Trial by Fire (Southern Heat Book 4) Read online

  He was surprised that the town council hadn’t demanded it be demolished yet. Perhaps the investigation was still open with the Feds? Seth pulled his eyes away from the structure and looked at Maya. The morning was still cool, reddening her cheeks. She looked a little better than she had at dawn, but she was obviously anxious. Her foot was tapping on the ground as she stood on the sidewalk outside what was left of the home, her hands crossed tightly across her chest, hands tucked in. Was she just cold, or was it something else? He was pretty sure from the way she’d looked him over that morning that she wasn’t impressed with her escort. Seth half shrugged. He was it. She’d either have to deal, or . . .

  She lifted one hand, waving it in a small, jaunty wave. “Umm, hi.”

  He smiled. “Hi, Maya. You found the place okay?”

  She looked back at the house, grimacing. “Kinda hard not to. First person I asked gave me precise directions.”

  Seth rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it was big news here at the time, I guess.”

  She nodded but didn’t reply and spun on her heels, moving quickly toward the house. Damn it. Big news. Her brother died that night. He was going to have to be less of a complete idiot if this was going to work. Seth hurried to grab two neon hard hats out of the bed of the truck and jog after her. He caught up to Maya at the threshold of the house, the front door long gone after being broken through that night—when they still had hope of finding anyone alive. He passed her one. “Here. The place is still standing, but I can’t guarantee something won’t fall or break off in there.” She took it, placing the hat on her head before stepping through the front door. Seth followed. At least she hadn’t made an excuse, or fussed about it ruining her hair, like some girls he knew. This couldn’t be easy for her, but at least she wasn’t putting herself at risk doing it. “Stick close to me, and you’ll be fine.”

  Entering the home, he walked her through the front room and hall. “There’s not much to see here,” he said. “It was pretty well all destroyed by the fire and then our attempts to put it out.” She nodded, her eyes wide as she took the room in. Her foot had stopped tapping and her hands hung limply by her sides. He frowned. Maya’s fingers were trembling. Seth looped his arm through hers and guided her back up the hall to the staircase. The sooner they got out of there, the better. He didn’t like seeing her so affected, even if it was unavoidable.

  He wondered again why she was doing this to herself. Surely there was someone else who could give her the answers she obviously so desperately needed? A police report, or she could talk to her brother’s fellow agents. Then again, he’d been undercover. Maybe they weren’t talking to anyone outside official channels. Seth had no idea how long, but from what he’d seen on TV, sometimes that stuff could go on for months, maybe even years.

  He watched Maya pick her way along the hall. He hadn’t understood it before, how someone could work on the side of the good guys their entire lives, only to turn into what they hunted. But on your own for months, cut off from your family, pretending to be someone else entirely. . . He could understand how shit like that happened. Who knows what the guy had been facing. God, given the right pressure, anyone could become a killer. He knew little about what Maya’s brother had been working on, didn’t even remember meeting the man, but it had been no secret that the judge had a pet project—bringing down the Dixie Mafia. Cute name, but a deadly outfit. Originally from Biloxi, Mississippi, they were less an actual family or organized group as their northern cousins, and more a sort of loose-knit tribe of traveling criminals. Without a chain of command, whoever had enough money and power to wrest control won. They only had one rule—don’t snitch to the cops.

  Seth stepped around a piece of charred wood, hiding a shudder. Was that what Maya’s brother had been working on? He could only imagine what might have happened to him if the Dixie Mafia found out he was a federal agent. He took another step forward, tiles and charcoal crunching under his boot, and then he stopped short. Did they know Maya was in town? He looked over. She was a few steps ahead of him, waiting at the foot of the staircase. At least she’d paid attention to not going anywhere in the house without him. “Umm, Maya. How long have you been here in Monroe?”

  She turned from peering up the staircase. He could barely see the upstairs landing, what was left of the room casting most of the upstairs in shadows. “I only arrived yesterday, last night. Slept for a bit and then I went straight to the firehouse.”

  Seth exhaled forcefully. “Okay. Does anyone else know why you’re here?”

  She cocked her head, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

  Just how many times was he going to put his foot in it in an hour? He took a deep breath. If he was going to piss her off, might as well get it over with. “After you left this morning, I was talking to the fire investigator that handled this case. He knew your brother was FBI, but that was it.”

  She turned around, facing him. Her mouth was level, but there was a sadness in her eyes. Shit, he hated being the one to put it there. What was it about this woman that got under his skin? He’d dealt with fire victims before; it was part of the job. This one seemed more intimate, though, more personal. It wasn’t as if he knew her. Maybe the mystery surrounding the whole thing? Hell, maybe the creepiness of the burned-out shell of the house was getting to him.

  She spoke softly. “Jesse was a very private person. I think you have to be, if you live that life. He didn’t like to talk about work.” She half smiled, a wistful look on her face. “Probably thought he was protecting his baby sister from the evils of the world. He was nearly ten years older than me, and acted like a third parent half the time when I was growing up. I’m not sure he would have told me much of what he was really up to, even if I’d asked.”

  Seth could understand that. He, and every guy at the firehouse, walked into each shift not knowing if it was going to be their last. Hell of a thing some days, especially when he’d started the job, fresh out of college. But he knew that was where he was meant to be. Fighting fires, the days you got to rescue people, saving lives—that was a hell of a rush. It was probably the same for Jesse at the FBI. The ones you don’t save, Seth tried not to think about, but sometimes when it was dark and still in his apartment at night, he’d remember the bad ones. He couldn’t blame Jesse at all for wanting to keep that life from Maya.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Maya stood, one hand on her hip. What had he missed?

  “Ahh, what question?”

  “Why do you care if anyone else knows I’m here?”

  Rip the bandage off. He should just go for it. Instead, he half stuttered, half fell over his words. “Umm, I don’t know anything about what Jesse . . . ahh, well, Liam said . . .” He sighed. “It’s like this, Maya. Judge Turner was federal. He didn’t deal with drunk-and-disorderlies or little old ladies bouncing checks at the grocery store.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And?”

  “And, well, I don’t know what or who your brother was involved with, but clearly it was a right mess.”

  “Look, Seth—”

  He held his hands up, interrupting. “I’m not making a judgment call either way, Maya.” His eyes softened. “He was your brother, and he’ll always be that. But whatever happened, I’m sure he wouldn’t want you caught up in anything even like the same mess.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

  “And I’m sure you can. Just, maybe don’t tell too many people you’re poking around the judge’s death.” He looked straight at her. “For me? I’d feel kinda responsible if someone got the wrong idea while you were in town.”

  Maya snorted. “And did what, exactly?”

  Seth paused. He did sound kind of silly. Yep, it definitely had to be the creepiness of the house. He was letting his imagination run away with him. Maya turned, her hair swinging over her shoulder as she started up the stairs. He just didn’t want anything to happen to her. She didn’t deserve it.

  He shook his head. He was o
verreacting. He’d show her through the house, then escort her back to the motel, maybe ask her out for coffee. Purely to make sure she was okay, of course. It had nothing to do with the view he had of her shapely ass climbing the stairs.

  Yeah, he was completely screwed.

  6

  Maya

  Seth hurried up the first few stairs to catch up with her. “Watch your step up here. Might be best to follow me and try to place your feet where I do.” His face was serious, with any of the softness she’d seen earlier gone. This was Seth the firefighter, the professional.

  “Okay.” They reached the landing and she stopped, looking around. He was right. The fire damage was far more extensive up here. He switched on a large flashlight, illuminating the floor in front of them, before taking her hand and stepping forward. Furnishings on the landing were outright gone and curtains that she was sure must have been beautiful once now hung in tatters or singed ends, the rest gone entirely. A charred leg was all that was left of a hall table, and small piles of broken glass dotted the floor. The surface was uneven, both with rubble still lying about and the geography of the wooden floor, which must have warped and cracked at the heat. She was going to need sturdier shoes if she was going to look around here properly. She could still smell the remnants of smoke, months later. Strange, how that smell clung to everything. What once was could never be again. There was no returning this house to its original state. Her life would never be the same again, either.

  “Evidence of arson can be nearly impossible to find sometimes,” he said. “The fire itself can often destroy any physical proof, and so can the chemicals that we use to put it out.” He moved closer to the wall, hugging the corner. “Often, what we witness as the first responders can make a difference in the determination.” He pointed to a heavily charred section of the wall. “That’s likely a point of origin for the fire. There was one downstairs, too.” Maya thought back. She’d seen the darkly burnt wood around the front door, but it hadn’t meant much to her. Fires were hot; they burned wood. Seth continued. “Multiple points of origin usually mean arson.” He gestured at a stain on the frayed, singed carpet in front of them. “And accelerant usage, though that one is confirmed by a lab afterward. Do you have any reports from the FBI labs?”

  She didn’t. Maya was starting to realize just how much she didn’t know about this—about all of this. Being here, making this trip, it was what she’d clung to for weeks. Maybe even for months. Ever since those two agents had appeared on her parents’ doorstep. If she could just see it firsthand, then she’d discover some crucial piece of evidence. It would be obvious that her brother wasn’t the murderer everyone said he was. Of course it would. There was no way it could happen any other way. Jesse had simply been too good for there to be any doubt. Now, standing in a burned-out hall in a house hundreds of miles from home, something else was suddenly clear. She was completely out of her depth. Maya had no idea how to read the scene in front of her. Burned was burned, and that’s all she understood. She looked over at Seth, watching as his eyes swept the walls and floor. He saw it. Without him, she would have probably never even made it up the stairs without falling through something. What the hell was she doing there?

  He must have sensed her hesitation, as he looked over, sympathy on his face. He pointed down the hall. “It’s just down there,” he said. “The bedroom.” The bedroom where the bodies were found. Maya swallowed hard. She wasn’t ready for that.

  “I . . . uh . . .”

  “It’s okay,” Seth said. He took her hand, turning and leading her down the stairs. Maya let him. “You don’t have to see that.”

  She took a deep breath, and another. By the time her head stopped spinning and the ground felt solid beneath her feet again, sun warmed her skin and a soft breeze brushed against her face. They were outside. Somehow she’d allowed herself to be guided back through the entire house, and she hadn’t paid attention to a single thing. Her mind had been caught up in memories, both real and imagined. Jesse was here many months ago, and any trace of him long removed. And yet, she could still feel him. Haunted. Until she’d stepped over the threshold of the house he’d died in, Maya had felt all alone. Now she was still grieving, still raging mad, but there was something else. Was it Jesse, somehow still here, or the man standing next to her, waiting patiently for her to come back to herself? She looked up, meeting his gaze, and smiled. “Thank you. I know you didn’t . . . well, showing people through fire scenes can’t be part of your usual job description. I appreciate it.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Seth said, his gaze lingering on hers. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” She pulled herself up, forcing herself to walk out the gate, to not look back at the house. Seth fell in step beside her.

  “Even so,” he said. “It’s still early. Did you eat yet?”

  When had she last eaten? Yesterday, maybe, a rushed burger in the drive-through on her way here. She needed to find a cheap grocery store if she was going to stay in town awhile. Maya had taken unpaid leave from her job to be here. Her boss had been understanding at first, but taking a cross-country trip on a hunch, with no idea when she’d be back? She’d been lucky he’d held the job open for her, but any living expenses were going to have to come out of her savings, and there weren’t much of those. But coffee, that she could afford.

  She hadn’t slept much the night before, a few short hours after arriving at the motel, then she’d been up before the sun to get to the firehouse before shift change. She’d wanted to catch the crew that had been in attendance the night of the fire, and if she missed them, she’d have to wait several days before they were back on shift. She was running on fumes by now, and Maya was sure that once she got back to the motel room and the adrenaline from that morning wore off, she’d crash hard. Caffeine would keep her awake long enough to ask Seth a few more questions, if her imagination could handle it.

  She looked up at him. “Sure, that’d be good.”

  Seth led her back to his truck. “Did you walk here?” She nodded. “Hop in, then. There’s a great little diner across town, and then I’ll drive you back to the motel.”

  The cafe was cute, with a blue awning and wrought-iron chairs sitting outside in the morning sunshine. They walked in, Seth nodding to the waitress standing behind the counter as he led Maya over to one of the clusters of lounge chairs dotted about the room. There were tables, too, but she had to agree, the couches looked like the perfect place to sit for a while and gather herself back together. The place was rustic, with cracked bricks exposing the wall behind and open wooden beams forming a pattern above her head. Guitars hung on the wall, along with prints of local landscapes. Bright rugs dotted the floor, along with an aqua trim along the counter top. There was even a shelf or two packed with books and magazines, for those who wanted to while away a few hours. Looking around the cozy place, she could feel the stress of the morning begin to leech from her.

  She gazed across the room. A long counter was stacked high with coffee mugs, sitting next to a gleaming chrome espresso machine. Her mind sparked at the idea of an extremely strong coffee. She would need both the caffeine and fuel if she was going to keep moving the rest of the day. A chalkboard hung on the wall listing the daily specials, and under that sat a refrigerated glass cabinet. Her appetite returned at the sight of packed sandwiches, filling nearly falling out they were so stuffed. And oh, my God, were those snickerdoodle cupcakes? Seth followed her gaze. “Sloane loves those,” he said. “Mason’s fiancé,” he clarified. “Engine 81’s captain. If any of us come here and don’t bring back a box, then there’ll be hell to pay on next shift.” He grinned. “Want to try one?”

  She so did. But her budget wasn’t going to stretch to cover cake. If her complete ineptitude that morning had shown her anything, it was that proving her brother’s innocence was going to be a lot harder than she’d originally anticipated. Jesse had been a good guy, a straight shooter who’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed
it. But there was something twisted going on if the men who worked with his brother—who knew him—believed that he’d killed a man. That took effort, and probably careful planning. She was playing with the big boys now, and she had to be prepared for the long haul. “Just a coffee.”

  “Awwh, come on, I saw the way you looked at those cupcakes.” Seth’s eyes roamed her figure. Maya blushed and he looked away, clearing his throat. “Everyone deserves something sweet now and then.” He patted his flat stomach. The guy didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. “Me, on the other hand, I need a burger.” Their waitress appeared at their table. “House burger please, Sarah, with extra bacon.” He looked over at Maya. “Actually, make that two, and a box of cupcakes for Sloane with one extra for now.” He looked over at Maya. “My treat.”

  Sarah chuckled. “As if I’d let you leave without that. I swear that woman must have planted cameras in here or something. She always knows when Joe cooks up a fresh batch.”

  “Thank you,” Maya said. She sat back in her chair, relaxing further even as the sounds of the busy room met her ears; a grinder somewhere in the kitchen, dishes clattering, spoons clinking, and both servers and other patrons chatting away happily. The smell of freshly brewed grounds filtered in through her nose and Maya almost groaned with delight. She’d always loved the smell of coffee brewing, and mixed here with baking and lunch, the aroma was heavenly. The place was noisy, but strangely peaceful all at once. A moment of normalcy. Those had been few and far between lately. She was just a girl in a diner, having coffee with a cute guy—well, coffee and a burger, now. She smiled. It was so damn normal she could forget why she was in Monroe, for just a moment, anyway.

  Seth shrugged. “You looked like you could do with a little sugar.” He opened the lid of a water bottle sitting at the table and poured them both a glass. “You were up pretty damn early this morning, and what you saw this morning can’t have been easy.”