Scorched Edges Read Free Page B

his laptop. He did a quick scan of the news and read an article about the previous day’s fire. Thankfully the journalist had stuck to the facts and there was no mention of the painted message. Beau had no doubt that should even a hint of suspicion that a serial firebug was on the loose get out, the Internet would be full of speculative stories. The early fires had been too minor to even make the local gossip sheets, let alone the nationals, but the guy was escalating and the latest burn had gained some coverage, albeit just a column or two.
    “He’s not after publicity,” Beau mused. “He’s trying to attract attention, but from an individual…someone on my watch. We need to start talking to each other, to hunt for clues.” He ought to start with himself. Beau couldn’t think of anyone he’d annoyed enough to cause such obsessive behavior. He hadn’t dumped anyone in years. At the club he was careful only to play with willing house subs and Carey would soon let him know if he’d upset anyone. The Underground took care of its staff and Carey didn’t stand for ungentlemanly behavior.
    “So if not me, who could it be?” Beau ran what he knew about his colleagues through his head. Most were happily married, both to the job and their respective partners. In his regular watch there were two other guys who were out, neither of whom was into the scene. Of the younger, single guys, Beau wasn’t aware of any issues. The station house had a few women on staff but none were on his watch. Even the station cat was a pampered ex-stray. The plump ginger moggy had probably befriended every mouse within a mile radius and made some kind of mutually beneficial ‘no-chasing’ agreement to allow him more time to snooze in the equipment locker.
    “This is getting me nowhere,” he muttered. He brought up a list of local restaurants and focused on where to take Marty for dinner. Serial arsonists could wait until his weekend was over.

Chapter Two
     
     
     
    “He’s going to be here any second.” Marty folded his arms and gave himself a hug that did nothing to calm his nerves. “Why the heck did I give him my address? We could have met at the restaurant.” He did yet another circuit of his tiny flat and plumped a cushion. Everything was tidy and in its place. The space was too small for him to have the luxury of being a slob. Marty added another log to the wood burner, then took the half a dozen paces to his bedroom to check for the third time that the bed covers were straight. He’d already changed out of his comfy old jeans and varsity sweatshirt into dark wool trousers and a soft sweater of deep burgundy. His hair flopped into his eyes and he pushed it away with a shaky hand. The intercom buzzed and he almost jumped out of his skin.
    “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Marty ran to the panel and stabbed at the button. “Yes?”
    “Marty, it’s Beau.”
    “Yes, yes…of course. Please come up.” He pressed the release button for the street level entrance then took a few deep breaths.
    When the knock at his front door came, Marty was tempted to run away and hide in the bedroom. “He’ll just chop his way in with an axe—firemen are good at that kind of thing.” He plucked up his courage and opened the door. Six feet five inches of ebony haired gorgeousness walked in like he owned the place.
    “You’re beautiful, Marty.” Beau smiled.
    You have to be kidding me, I am not a girl! Marty lifted an eyebrow and forgot his nerves but then Beau handed him a bunch of stunning sunflowers and Marty melted. His knees threatened to give way.
    “You brought me flowers?” Oh, that’s smooth, you idiot. Talk about stating the obvious. The tiny lines at the corner of Beau’s eyes crinkled with amusement. He has eyes like thunderclouds. Wow.
    “I did.” Beau walked to him and encircled Marty’s waist with his arms. His lips parted as he dipped his head toward Marty.
    “Hello.”
    Marty froze. He had no idea what to do, but it