They would never catch him because he had left no evidence behind. Laughter bubbled in his throat. Detective Bradford Walsh would spin in circles.
Perfect. He hated Bradford Walsh.
Now the woman was a different story. Hed felt her presence, sensed that she was like him. Different.
What her talents were he didnt know. But he would find out.
And he would use her if needed.
He followed her now. Had seen her before, but couldnt place where.
She was dressed to kill and heading toward the party end of town. Probably on the prowl for a man to fulfill her fantasies.
He had fantasies of his own.
His thirst for another fire already burned inside him, stronger and more intense than before. The city would host a fireworks show in the park tonight, but those would be pitiful compared to his work.
The café fire was only the beginning of the festivities
he had planned.
But he had cut short his fun in watching the flames die down at the café because of this woman. He wanted that lost time back, those lost moments of joy, of seeing the final embers dwindle to ashes. That part usually satisfied and fed him for hours. Sometimes days. But not tonight.
She had robbed him of that pleasure.
And she would suffer.
In fact, he just might set her afire and watch her skin erupt into flames like kindling.
Chapter Two
Frustration gnawed at him. No one stuck out as a possible arsonist. No one had seen or heard anything suspicious.
Of course, the holiday crowds and tourist season made it easy for a culprit to hide. Restaurants and bars overflowed, catering to the party scene. A ship of sailors had docked and they were combing the streets on their furlough.
If the guy was among them or the tourists, he could disappear tomorrow.
Families had gathered in the squares for picnics and special booths had been set up for the holiday offering cotton candy, sno cones, frozen lemonade and other treats. Face-painting, tarot card readers, clowns, balloon artists and mimes entertained in the square, and a vendor sold voodoo dolls to passersby. The ever-present ghost tours strolled along the graveyards and historic district adding to the atmosphere.
Still, excitement sizzled in the balmy summer air, the sound of children and partiers filling the streets growing louder in anticipation of the upcoming fireworks show.
Hazels son Robby had arrived and tried to console his mother while Parker interviewed her.
Bradford listened, then cornered Chief Jackson as the last of the flames died down. Now the ruins, soaked with water, looked like a sludgy mess of charred wood and plastic.
What do you think? Bradford asked.
Its too early to tell, Chief Jackson said. Well have to sift through the debris, take samples, run tests The tall African-American man shifted, restless himself. Did you learn anything from the interviews?
Afraid not. But three fires in three weeks. Not all accidental.
Ill review the other two scenes, Jackson said. See if my men missed anything. Look for a connection.
Bradford nodded. Hed already talked to the officers himself. In the first two instances, the sites had been vacant. At this one there were people inside. Which meant, if the incidents were related, their perpetrator was taking more chances, growing more confident, more aggressive.
And that hed just begun his reign of terror. Next time, there might be casualties.
They had to stop him before that happened.
SOMEONE WAS WATCHING her.
Rosanna pivoted in the dark corner of the bar, searching the faces, hunting for someone familiar, or maybe a stranger staring at her. But no one stood out.
Shivering in spite of the heat, she tried to convince herself that the fire and then walking by the graveyard had made her paranoid. After all, for years after her fathers death, shed had nightmares that he might claw his way from his coffin and try to drag her into hell with him. The fire tonight had reminded her of that nightmare.
The image of that cop helping the café owner to safety returned. Hed been kind and gentle and had consoled the older woman as if he cared.
But when hed looked at her, shed seen a coldness that chilled her to the bone.
Determined to put him out of her mind, she studied the dance floor. White lights glittered and popped intermittently across the room, an indoor fireworks show and hopping singles scene. Not one she was accustomed to being a part of.
She sipped a Lemon Drop martini while she watched the hump-and-grind show on the dance floor. Bodies gyrated, sliding against other bodies, men wrapped around women, skin to skin, a game of foreplay in public that made her body tighten with need.
And resurrected images of that detective again.
For a brief second, she pictured the two of them swaying to the music, his big, muscled arms holding her tight, his thigh slipping between her heat, his thick lips skating over hers. Desire shot through her.
A good-looking, blond architect paired up with Natalie and they headed to the dance floor. During the next half hour, Rosanna fended off unwanted advances.