Page 25 of Burning For You

Sean sighed. “I don’t remember anyone coming over, but I didn’t hear all that much either. I had the TV on before I snuck out. You were sleeping. What if someone was there and left it? It’s still an accident.”

“They could have come forward,” she argued.

Her brother laughed. “Really? You remember their friends, right? No. No one was coming forward. Hell, they might not have any reason to think it was their cigarette either. It’d still be an accident. Don’t go down that path, Skye. There’s nothing to find but shitty memories that neither of us needs or wants. I’ve moved on, you should too.”

“You’re right. Tell me about you. About Sara. If this is the only chance I get to talk to you, we can at least catch up, right?”

Sean hesitated like he didn’t believe what he was hearing.

Or maybe didn’t want to open himself up.

“I met Sara at work,” Sean said, then continued to talk more than she ever remembered before.

7

WISHFUL THINKING

“How quiet do you think it’ll be tonight?” Ash asked on Saturday.

They’d already run trunk-or-treat earlier in the day. The kids flooded the lot in costumes, stuffing their bags with candy, cheap toys, and brochures for local programs. Anything to keep them off the streets after dark.

It was a joint effort between Glens Falls PD and the fire department, staged right in the parking lot.

He liked it. Liked seeing kids dressed as superheroes, athletes, even a few pint-sized cops and firefighters reminding him why nights like this mattered.

“Saturday night. Halloween.” Mike snorted. “Good luck. I just hope we get enough downtime to take a piss.”

“I think you just jinxed us.”

Mike pointed his fork at him. “You did it first by asking the stupid question. Saturdays are never quiet.”

“Fair.”

An hour later, when the alarms screamed and the call came in—vehicle fire—Ash swallowed his groan.

Still better than a structure fire. But with kids walking the streets, distracted drivers, costumes blocking peripheral vision? It could turn ugly fast.

They were moving before the tones finished. Gear was thrown on in a hurry, trucks roaring to life, lights slicing through the dark.

Three minutes out and cruising through the streets.

When they arrived, the fire was already chewing through the front of the truck. Another blaze burned in the bed. Contained and almost deliberate. Like a backyard fire pit someone had abandoned.

Jesus.

Hoses were pulled and charged, positions taken without a word. Muscle memory kicked in and they hit it hard and fast, knocking it down before it could spread.

It was routine to him. Or so he thought, but a fire was anything but routine.

Things could turn on a dime. The wind could pick up, blow ashes around and catch anything else on fire.

Like cheap plastic costumes on kids. Because just like he expected, the crowd was bigger this time.

Not a dead-end street. This was worse. A long stretch with few houses and zero streetlights. The perfect place to watch something burn without being seen.

Thirty minutes later, Ash headed back toward the engine, steam curling into the cold air. Two cruisers worked the crowd back as he scanned faces, his instincts humming.

Someone caught his eye.