Read Online The Arsonist by Mary Burton - Free Book Online Page B

what if his passion hadn’t been for her? What if it was the fire that had turned him on?
    Gannon had been pegged a hero in D.C. but what if he was no hero at all?
    What if he was Nero?
    Damn.
    The idea was stunning—shattering. If she could prove one of the nation’s top arson investigators was in fact a serial arsonist who had killed twelve people, she could write her own ticket.
    Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears, she feared the whole café could hear it.
    To calm her racing heart, she reviewed the facts.
    One. Gannon had been at the fire today.
    Two. He’d been watching with a fanatic intensity.
    Three. Arsonists loved to watch their fires burn.
    “Darcy?” Nathan said. “Where’d you go?”
    Her attention snapped back. “Sorry. Just drifted for a moment.”
    “Did we bore you with our talk of buildings and mortgages?” Nathan said.
    “No, it was fascinating,” she said.
    Gannon chuckled. “Right.”
    Nathan adjusted his glasses. “I was wondering if you’d like to come out and see the condos.”
    “Oh, yeah, sure. That would be great.” She didn’t care about the development but accepting the offer seemed the right thing to do.
    Gannon tapped his finger on the side of his coffee cup. “So what brings you to Preston Springs, Darcy?”
    She hesitated. “I’m in between jobs so I figured I’d drive back and take it easy for a while. My family owns the Varsity and since they were shorthanded, they offered me a job.”
    “They were working you pretty hard last night in the tavern,” Nathan said.
    She could feel Gannon’s gaze on her. “I don’t mind the work. Keeps me off the streets,” she joked.
    Nathan laughed.
    Gannon didn’t.
    “So you own the garage, Gannon?” she said scrambling for more questions. “When I was a kid, the guy who owned it specialized in fixing Ford trucks. He called it American Parts.”
    “I figured as much by the stacks of old Ford manuals,” Gannon said.
    Nervous she tried not to squirm in her seat. If Gannon was Nero, this would be the biggest story of the decade. Pulitzer. Pulitzer. Pulitzer. “That was some fire.” Brilliant transition. Hitting Gannon over the head would have been less subtle.
    Gannon didn’t respond. He tapped his long finger on the side of his coffee cup.
    However, Nathan was eager to pick up the thread of the conversation. “Sounds like I missed a real show.”
    It surprised her that Gannon didn’t want to talk about the fire. She figured a true arsonist savored the damage he created. “I spoke to the chief after it was all over,” she said, trying not to look at Gannon too much. “He’s been a regular at the tavern for years. Anyway, he said the fire was one of the most intense he’d ever seen.” She hesitated. “You were there weren’t you, Gannon?”
    Gannon traced the rim of his cup with a calloused finger. “Yeah, I saw the smoke and came running.”
    “What did you think?” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.
    “A helluva mess, like you said.” Gannon didn’t elaborate.
    “Was anyone hurt?” Nathan asked.
    “No,” Gannon replied.
    “Thank God,” Nathan muttered as he sipped his coffee.
    Getting information out of Gannon was like squeezing blood from a stone. “I heard the guys in the bar talking about another fire,” Darcy said. “What was it that burned down?”
    “A Super 8,” Nathan said.
    “You think they are related?” she asked.
    Nathan shrugged. “Who’s to say? But I wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe Larry is right. Could be teen gangs.”
    “What do you think, Gannon?” A small white scar ran along the edge of his jaw from his ear to his mouth. She wondered where he’d gotten it.
    Gannon looked down at his cup. He took a sip. He clearly didn’t like talking about the fires. “Can’t say.”
    “I’ll bet it’s the talk of the tavern tonight,” she added, hoping he’d snag the bait.
    Instead, Gannon rose. “Nathan, Darcy, I’ve got to run. I just remembered I’ve got