The Arsonist by Mary Burton Read Free Book Online

Motorcycle Man, and what brings you to this small town?” Her reporter’s mind started to click. Without even realizing it, she’d ticked through a half dozen scenarios for him and had come up with the questions she’d ask if she had the chance to interview him. Hometown? Service record? Reason for leaving your last job? Why the interest in motorcycles?
    Of course, she’d never interview him. His story, despite his action hero swagger, wasn’t likely the kind that grabbed headlines. She was after the big game—Nero.
    Motorcycle Man tossed back his head, clearing his dark hair from his eyes, and pushed his bike into the garage. She watched as he stretched his long, lean body and reached for the garage door handle. He glanced toward the Varsity and for a minute she thought he was looking right at her. Her heart pounded in her chest. But, of course, he couldn’t see her in the dark.
    When he closed the door, she released the breath she’d been holding. He turned off the garage light.
    Disappointment flickered. She liked looking at Motorcycle Man and wondered what he’d taste like if she kissed him. Darcy was acutely aware that there’d been no one in her bed since she and Stephen had broken up ten months ago. She missed the touch and feel of a man inside her.
    But sex wasn’t a casual thing for her. It required trust, and mustering trust had been hard since Stephen. She’d been taken in by his megawatt smile and handy excuses.
    Motorcycle Man. He looked like he’d been plucked out of Easy Rider. Clearly her judgment in men had not improved.
    She turned from the window, moved to the door and checked the lock. It was secure. The grit from a night’s worth of customers crunched under her feet and she realized Trevor had not swept yet. She went into the kitchen and noticed her brother’s light was off. He’d left. She checked the back door. Unlocked.
    Surprised that Trevor would have missed such an important detail, she turned the dead bolt. What the heck was the matter with him? Dad had always drilled security into their brains.
    Trevor was getting sloppy.

    Darcy woke at 6:00 a.m. She sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She glanced around the room and for a moment didn’t know where she was. Nothing seemed familiar to her. She blinked. Recognition dawned.
    She rolled over and buried her head under the pillow. She dearly would have loved to sleep in another couple of hours but the Nero story wasn’t going to write itself.
    Darcy got out of bed and stretched. After hitting the bathroom, she went to the small dresser drawers, dug out her shorts and T-shirt and put on her jogging shoes.
    A run was what she needed. She would get out in the fresh air, blow the cobwebs from her head and burn some of the calories she’d consumed last night. This last year since beginning her weight loss quest, she’d started running for the exercise because it was quick and effective. At first she’d hated it, but as she grew accustomed to the workouts, running became her best thinking time.
    Then, after she’d showered, she’d find Gannon.
    She pulled back her thick hair into a ponytail and headed down the staircase. The tavern was quiet. The chairs had been stacked on the tables but the floor hadn’t been swept.
    “Thanks, Trevor,” she muttered as the faint smell of beer and cigarettes filled her nose.
    Her stomach turned as she moved toward the kitchen and the coffeepot. She dumped yesterday’s grounds down the disposal, scooped out fresh coffee and dropped in the filter. She filled the machine with water and flicked on the switch.
    As the machine hissed, she leaned against the counter and stared at the kitchen. Her father had been an early riser and they’d often bumped into each other in the kitchen in the mornings. And they’d always managed to find something to fight about.
    Darcy rubbed the tense muscles in the back of her neck with her hand. She could look back now and see that she’d started her share of