Page 55 of Burning For You

“I was hardly alone,” she argued. “There were tons of people around.”

“Don’t be cute.”

He ran his hands through his hair. He looked tired. Exhausted, actually.

He hadn’t shaved, but she knew he did when he was working at the firehouse.

“I had a story to write,” she said. “It’s mine now. I’ve been covering it and covering it well. The people have a right to know what is going on.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I saw that when I woke up. That it’s the same person and we’ve got an arsonist on our hands. All the more reason you need to back off.”

“Whoever it is won’t come after me. Give me a break. They don’t even know who I am.”

Which was a lie because of that email. And her picture next to her name in each article.

“Bullshit,” he said. “Is a story that important to you? That you have to get out of bed in the middle of the night for it? It’s not even your full-time job. I thought you had a good job. Or is this about money?”

“No,” she said. “I told you what it was about.”

“Helping for your book. I get it. Some of it. But it’s like you’re only writing about the fires now.”

“Not true,” she argued. “I went to an accident the other day, and talked to someone in the community about a business growth opportunity, but my stories weren’t bought.”

“Huh?”

She marched over to her laptop and pulled it out to show him. First the accident came up. “See. But they didn’t think it was newsworthy enough. They just pulled it from the police blotter rather than pay me for it.” She hit a few more buttons. “The one on the business. Someone else beat me to it. They had more information. Again, wasted time.”

“So you write this and don’t get paid?”

“That’s how it works. If it’s not good enough, I wasted my time. But this, I’ve got the lead for it. And as long as I keep getting there first, they will keep paying me.”

“Then it is the money?” he asked, the frown filling his face.

“No. It doesn’t pay that much. I just kind of feel... invested now.”

Maybe a tad bit important when so much of her life was spent thinking no one cared.

“I looked at the report of your parents’ fire yesterday. It’s exactly what you were told.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yes. The cause of fire was a cigarette on paper. That’s it. It was ruled an accident.”

Her shoulders dropped. “I should have figured. I mean, Sean was right. I’m overthinking it. Maybe my memory has just weakened over time.”

“Or you’re looking for answers you might not get?” he asked softly.

“Probably that too. So no mention of other people around that night?”

“No. Neighbors were questioned and they said though they often saw cars coming and going late at night they didn’t remember anything. Didn’t mean it hadn’t happened, but no one said they saw anything.”

She put her laptop down. That had to be the end of it now. “Thanks.”

“You don’t look the least bit tired,” he said. “I’m assuming you came home and wrote your article.”

“I did, then I got some sleep and started making calls first thing.”

“What about your other job?”