An Honorable Man

“But surely no one from this shift. I mean, they were all here when the warehouse fire started. They couldn’t have started it.”

Roark lowered his voice. “This isn’t common knowledge, but there was a timer on the ignition device. The whole thing could have been set up several hours before.”

“I don’t want to believe this. It can’t be any of the guys here.”

“What about Tate?”

“Not even him. Every one of those guys out there has grieved for the men who died. I’ve watched them.”

“It’s only a possibility at this point. It could be anybody, from any shift, any station.”

“So why are you talking to me about this? How could I possibly help?”

“Maybe you weren’t here for the warehouse fire, but you’ve been around for several months now. You could see or hear something as easily as anyone. For instance, if there’s anyone with an ax to grind with the department—any scuttlebutt going around—that’s the kind of information I need.”

“You want me to rat on my brothers?”

“To stop this guy from killing more firefighters? Yeah. And he will kill again. If he goes unchecked, it’s only a matter of time.” The arsonist often left a little surprise for the firefighters. Once, it was a vicious dog that had bitten Murph McCrae when he’d tried to rescue it. Another time, the serial arsonist had left a homemade bomb, though fortunately the thing hadn’t detonated.

Priscilla sagged a little in her chair. “I know he’s got to be stopped.”

“Anything you tell me is confidential,” Roark continued. “I’m asking everyone the same thing. If there’s anyone I should look at more closely…”

“I wish I could help. But I’m the last person anyone would trust or confide in,” she said a little testily.

“Just keep your eyes and ears open.”

“I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.”

“Believe me, I don’t like it either. And I hope I’m wrong. But it’s my responsibility to catch this guy, and I’ll do whatever it takes. Even if it ticks people off.” He would not allow another person to die on his watch.

“Is that all?” She stood, preparing to make her escape.

He stood, too, and stepped around the desk. He didn’t want to end their meeting on such a negative note. “Have you told your mother all about me?”

She nodded, inching away from him, putting more distance between them. “Mother is thrilled. She got on the Internet so she could read all the newspaper articles you’ve been quoted in. She printed them off to show my aunt Clara.”

“Aunt Clara being…the mother of the bride?”

“Good guess. She and my mom are sisters and they’re intensely competitive. It’s killing Mother that Clara’s daughter is getting married before hers, especially since…”

“Since what?”

“Well, since last year Mother thought she heard wedding bells. Turned out to be a funeral dirge.”

“The guy you were rebounding from?”

She nodded. “When we broke up, Mother was more disappointed than I was, I think.”

“And now she has something to pin her hopes on again.”

Priscilla nodded, wincing. “I hadn’t realized it was going to get this complicated. I thought this plan would buy me some peace, at least for a few months. Maybe I should claim we broke up at the last minute.”

Roark smiled. “I wouldn’t do that to your mother. But I do have one question for you.”

“Yes?”

“How is anyone going to believe I’m your boyfriend when you look like a scared rabbit every time I get within two feet of you?”

“I’ll do better,” she promised hastily.

“Maybe we should rehearse. You know, practice looking fondly at each other. Hold hands.” With every suggestion, her eyes got a little wider.

“That’s not necessary,” she said. “We’ll do fine.” Then she did escape. But Roark wasn’t too discouraged—if anything, her skittishness raised the bar. Would he even want a woman if she was a pushover? He enjoyed the challenge.

ROARK HAD BEEN LOOKING forward to this day like a kid counting the days to Christmas. The wedding of two people he’d never met. He could devote the whole evening to Priscilla. She would be his captive, stuck at the wedding and unable to flee. And he intended to see how far that could take him.

He pulled up to the curb in front of her two-story frame house in Oak Cliff’s historic district and cut the engine. He was late by five minutes, which was probably good. He didn’t want to appear too eager. He checked his hair in the mirror and then laughed at himself for being vain. His brothers and sisters had always teased him about that, about the fact that he liked to dress well and look his best even if he was just running to the grocery store for milk.

When he rang the bell, Tony Veracruz promptly opened the front door. He held a crying baby in one arm and a cat in the other and he was wearing a big smile.

Roark had been to this house before. Tony had invited him over a couple of times to play shuffleboard. He knew that Priscilla owned the house and lived in the upper apartment, renting the main floor to Tony. But he’d never been up the stairs.

“Priscilla will be down in a minute,” Tony said.

They were standing in a small vestibule. A set of steps to the immediate left of the door led upstairs. Roark wanted to see what kind of apartment a woman like Priscilla called home. But she apparently didn’t want him up there.

“Come on in,” Tony was saying. “Sorry about the racket. Josephina is teething.”

Last he’d heard, Tony didn’t have a baby. A nine-year-old daughter, yes. And there was Jasmine, perched on a chair in the living room, holding a baby bottle.

“Jasmine and I are babysitting,” Tony explained. “The baby belongs to Julie’s chef. Her regular sitter is sick.” Julie was Tony’s wife and also the owner of Brady’s Tavern and Tearoom, across the street from Fire Station 59.

Roark could see that Tony and his daughter had been exerting considerable effort to distract the baby from her teething pain. Toys of every description were spread out over the coffee table and a large area rug in the living room.

“Jasmine,” Tony said, “run upstairs and tell Pris her boyfriend is here.”

Startled, Jasmine stared at Roark. “Priscilla has a boyfriend?” She sounded almost scandalized.

“Go,” Tony said.

When she’d gone, Roark asked, “You aren’t giving Priscilla trouble over this fake boyfriend thing, are you?”

“Are you kidding? After all the grief she gave me when Julie and I got engaged, I couldn’t let a golden opportunity like this pass by.” He paused, put the cat down and shifted the baby to his other shoulder. “I shouldn’t do that, huh?”

“It’s a bit of a sore spot with her, I think,” Roark said carefully. “She’d probably never admit that.”

“Yeah, heaven forbid she show any weakness.” Tony jiggled the baby and offered her a teething ring, which she promptly rejected. “Aw, come on, little one.”