Up in Flames [The Heroes of Silver Springs 10] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Read Free Page A

strutted his stuff onto the stage dressed in a lab coat left open over a stained dark shirt, dark pants, and scuffed bowling shoes. His spiky brown hair, wild dark eyes, and crooked come-get-me grin had completed the perfect picture of the mad-scientist look he was known for.
    “Like a kid in a candy store. Your babbling”—Max spun the conversation back to the starting point—“could have a couple of different causes. You’re either a happy drunk with a lot to say, or you’ve got a lot on your mind you don’t want to say so you’re covering it with mindless chatter.” He glanced at her again, his smile gone, his expression intensely serious. “I’m betting on the latter.”
    Regina scowled and took great care not to slur her next words. “Yeah, you put your money wherever you want. I think I’ll stick with the babbling.”
    “Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
    Regina straightened stiffly in her seat and stared out the passenger window, only absently seeing the passing trees and houses on the residential street. “Positive.”
    “All right.” Max waited a beat. “Did you hear about that accident a couple of weeks ago out on Vancleave Road? Two cars, head-on collision, one caught fire under the hood?”
    Regina rubbed her forehead before propping her elbow on the window frame of the door, half relieved he’d let the subject drop so easily and partly pissed that he hadn’t pressed. “I don’t think so. I heard about the one that happened last week. You guys were toned out for that one, weren’t you?”
    “Yeah, same scenario, only this one happened on Washington Avenue. The first one wasn’t in our district, but Kyle was pulling an extra shift at Station 4 the day it happened.”
    Regina shook her head. “You’re going to have to help me here, Max. I’m drunk, remember? If I’m supposed to be grabbing onto something, I’m grabbing nothing but air. I know I wasn’t called in to investigate either accident.”
    Max steered the truck around another turn and failed miserably at attempting to stifle a laugh. “You weren’t called because there didn’t appear to be a need for investigation. SSPD did their part, figured out who was at fault, and deemed both fires to be mechanical failure or some shit.” He pushed a hard breath from his lungs. “There probably isn’t anything to grab onto but air. I don’t know. Kyle brought it up today at his place, the similarities between the two accidents, the fact that both were head-on collisions that resulted in one of the cars catching fire under the hood. Miraculously, no one was injured in either accident, but wrecks like that don’t happen much these days. The NHTSA has set standards for manufacturers to make sure collision-related fires don’t happen.”
    “What kind of cars were they?”
    “See, that’s the other peculiar thing. Both cars that caught fire were early-eighties-model Buick Regals.”
    “Same make and model? Same type of fires?”
    “Yes and yes. The SSPD didn’t put it together, different officers called to the scene, different shifts, et cetera. Hell, we probably shouldn’t be putting it together either. It struck Kyle as odd, and the guys chatted about it over plastering walls and fixing baseboards.” Max slowed the truck to a stop, then turned in his seat to face her. “That’s your place, right?”
    Regina looked out the window, immediately noting she’d forgotten to flip on her porch light on her way out that morning. She hadn’t intended on being out so late tonight, hadn’t planned on getting drunk, and damn sure hadn’t fathomed she’d be bringing Max Jasper home with her.
    “Yeah.” She looked back at Max and drew her brows together. “I didn’t tell you where I live, did I?”
    “You told the cap one day when I happened to be standing close by.”
    Dean Wolcott was the captain of B-shift and, lately, had become her closest friend and confidant. “You know I’m crazy about your captain,