He grabbed the kitchen extension, prepared for…hell, prepared for anything. He’d had to be in the past.
Instead of a boy’s voice, though, he heard the gruff tone of Cashner Warden, the fire chief. “Griff. Got a fire at your shop. The fire truck’s on its way, but I’m driving in from home as well.”
He saw Lily pausing in the doorway, then her expression changed to immediate concern. She’d obviously grasped that something was wrong.
“Was anyone in the store? Do you know how bad the fire is?”
“Not sure of anything yet. Neighbor saw smoke, called nine-one-one. I know you got a sprinkler set up in there, so I’m hoping that-well, it’s foolish to speculate until we know more. I’m on my way.”
“I’ll be there.” Before Griff could hang up, Cashner got in one more question.
“Griff. You happen to know where Lily Campbell is?”
Griff frowned. “Say what?”
“I’m just asking. If it’s arson, my first thought would normally be one of those loser kids you take on-but that’s not so logical, considering you’re the one always bailing ’em out of trouble. So then I have to say. You know. It’s the second fire since she’s been in town.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Griff snapped, and hung up.
“What?” Lily asked. “Something’s wrong-”
“Fire. At my ice-cream place. I have to go.”
“Of course you do. How can I help?”
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had offered to help him. And his first response was to say the male thing-“of course not.” Yet, even before he’d grabbed a light jacket from the hall closet, he’d rethought that. “Something’s wrong, Lily,” he said quietly.
“Obviously. A fire’s a terrible-”
“Not that. Or not just that. I’m not sure if you heard, but the fire last week was at the old mill. The place is deserted these days. Nothing to worry about, as far as damages. Someone just brought in a heap of trash and lit a match to it. But it happened to be…”
There was a sudden stillness in her face. “Yes. Where my dad used to work. Where he lost his job. That’s why, of course, I set that fire.”
It was as if she’d turned inward, to a place he couldn’t see, couldn’t be. He heard the joke. He just understood that it wasn’t really funny-not to her-and damned if it was for him either. “Yeah. First thing the fire chief asked me was whether I knew where you were.”
She took in a breath. “Wow. So I set this fire, too?”
“Amazing, isn’t it? Really, sugar, I already realized you were amazing. But I had no idea you could be two places at once.”
“Some women have that kind of magic.” She was still joking, even though her face had turned pale.
“I don’t like this.” He couldn’t define why adrenaline was shooting so fast through his veins, but every protective instinct was charged on full. Two fires in less than two weeks. Lily’s name publically associated with both of them. What was going on?
“I can’t seem to think straight,” he admitted. “My first instinct is to suggest you come with me, be with me, so people will see us together. I’d think that would prove you aren’t the fire setter. Unfortunately, the plan’s full of holes. I could be stuck at the shop for an unknown stretch of hours. Makes no sense to strand you without a car.”
“This is easy, Griff. I’ll drive with you. I’d like to help if I can. And if there’s nothing I can do, then I’ll just walk home to Louella’s.”
He was about to object. He liked her plan-except for letting her walk home in the dark. Just then, though, they both heard the distant scream of the fire truck.
There was no time to argue about logistics or details. She even beat him to the car.
In every way, Lily wanted to help Griff, to step up and do whatever she could. She’d just kind of forgotten a couple things.
Like that she was petrified of fire.
Like that she tended to have panic attacks anywhere near serious smoke and flames.
The instant Griff turned on Main Street, the chaotic scene flashed in front of them. Griff stiffened as if someone had slapped him-then moved. He pulled the car over, didn’t waste time parking it, just cut the engine, tossed Lily the keys, opened the door and took off running.
Lily climbed out quickly, too, but then couldn’t seem to move. The fire truck couldn’t have been there long, but firemen manned two hoses, both of which were aimed full-force at the ice-cream shop. People clustered as close as they dared, some in their nightclothes, some holding kids and crying. The hoses choked the sharp yellow flames, turning everything into a black, sooty mess. The crowd, held back by yellow tape, screamed when the front window of the shop blew out, raining shattered glass glittering onto the wet pavement.
Griff was still charging under the police barrier toward his store.
Lily struggled to unfreeze. She knew this nightmare, every sharp edge, every petrifying shadow. No one knew about the furious noise of fire unless they’d endured it. No one knew about the choking smoke, the impossible mess, the stink. No one knew how something beautiful and safe and sure could be devastated in mere minutes.
No one knew that you could lose everything that ever mattered to you faster than the snap of two fingers.
She shook herself, forced herself to breathe, to move. This wasn’t about her. It was about a whole town-and Griff losing that treasure of an ice-cream parlor. In the distance, she saw both the sheriff and fire chief jog over to reason with him, talk with him. Images nailed in her mind. Griff, fighting to get to his store, scalping a hand through his hair when he was held back. Sheriff Conner shaking his head. The fire chief, Cashner Warden, cocking a foot forward, clearly asking question after question. Griff never took his eyes off the fire.
Lily scanned the crowd, trying to think of something, anything she could do to help. The townspeople all seemed to love Griff. There wasn’t a kid or family who didn’t stop for his ice cream, barely a woman who didn’t take the time to flirt with him. Several kids in the crowd were crying, hands to their mouths, being comforted by moms and dads whose faces looked white in the darkness. Every few moments someone would look at her-including Sheriff Conner.
It hurt to see suspicion in their eyes. They unquestionably thought the fire was caused by arson.
Darn it, so did she.
She spotted two of the boys who worked for Griff-Jason and Steve-and instinctively walked toward them. In such a relentlessly clean-cut town, the boys stood out like weeds in a garden. They were huddled on their own, isolated from the crowd, both wearing tees too thin for the damp night, shoulders hunched.
The tall one, Steve, had arms decorated with tattoos and his hair dyed with a stripe of red. But for all the belligerent expression, he had the eyes of a lonely kid.
The other boy, Jason, was scrapper-small, his head shaved like a marine’s. He’d saddened Lily from the first time she met him. He had that beaten look in his eyes, a posture that was always anxious, spring-ready-ready to run, ready to punch, ready always to face the next bad thing.
Both boys recognized her, saw her walking, but neither paid any attention until she stopped in front of them. “Hi, guys. Have either of you been here long enough to know what happened?”
Jason looked behind him, as if thinking she must be speaking to someone else. When he realized she was talking to him, his face flushed.
“He got here first.” He lifted his shoulder toward Steve. “But I got here right after. We both wanted to help, but the cops and firemen won’t let us go any closer.”
“But we’re not leaving,” Steve said. “We’re staying for Griff. No matter what anybody says.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” Lily told them. “I don’t want to leave if there’s a chance I can help. But to tell you the truth, I’m really petrified of fires. Would you mind if I hang with you two?”