The Arsonist by Mary Burton Read Free Book Online Page A

the fights. She’d felt trapped in those days and could be a real bitch. If she’d had a little maturity, she’d have seen the old man was stressed out about the tavern finances. Throw in a roaring hangover, which he suffered almost daily, and you had an explosive mix.
    She couldn’t forgive the drinking but she could have diffused a lot of the tension. Instead she’d stirred it up.
    Darcy heard her mother starting to move upstairs. The idea of facing her mother over coffee didn’t appeal. She’d already dredged up enough memories for one day, so she headed out the back door to the alley and followed it to the street. She paused and stretched out the muscles in her legs and then started to run her old route.
    Her muscles were tight and stiff as she started to jog down the sidewalk along Main Street, past the shops. By the time she reached the top of the hill, her legs started to relax and her gait fell into a steady pace. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead.
    Her mind started to clear and her spirits lifted as the endorphins kicked in.
    Her first night hadn’t been very productive story-wise, but she’d gotten herself established and that was a good thing. It wouldn’t take long to find Gannon in a town this small.
    She jogged up a hill and her muscles groaned, demanding her attention. Breathing in slowly, she let the oxygen fill her lungs and nourish her muscles. The morning was warming up and she began to really sweat.
    One of her first priorities was to get her money from Trevor. Her car’s gas tank was on vapors, her credit card was maxed and she needed pocket money. No doubt Trevor was still sleeping but she’d catch up with him today. And when she did get her money, she would be mobile again.
    Until then she was stuck.
    As she headed down the hill, she heard the distant sound of sirens. She stopped, and wiping the sweat from her forehead, listened, trying to pinpoint the location. At first she thought they were police sirens but realized they belonged to fire trucks. Judging by the sounds, several trucks were headed out.
    Another fire.
    The sirens grew louder, coming from the north end of town. She started to run down the hill toward the warehouses. As she rounded a corner, she saw a large black plume of smoke rising up into bright blue morning sky.
    Darcy ran toward the smoke and the sirens, which grew louder by the second. She hurried down the brick sidewalk and rounded the corner. She stopped immediately, coming face to face with the city’s two fire trucks parked in front of Snead’s Restaurant, which was engulfed in flames.
    Snead’s had once been an old tobacco warehouse. Three stories high, the owners had converted it two years ago. Darcy had kept up with local news through the Internet and had read that the Snead’s restoration had cost over two hundred thousand dollars. It was set to open this weekend.
    Through the windows she could see flames burning on all three floors. The fire had spread to the ceiling and had wrapped around the walls and door. The heat had shattered the glass, and smoke had blackened the red brick exterior.
    The police had set up their cars as a barrier between the firefighters, and the policemen watched the growing crowd of onlookers.
    She recognized the chief who watched as his captain dressed in his heavy fire gear and ordered crews to get in position with their hoses. Within minutes, a steady stream of water blasted the inferno. The fire hissed and spit. And the heavy scent of smoke saturated the air.
    Darcy hung back, wrapping her arms around her chest. The heat was so intense that none of the firefighters approached the building. They continued to battle the blaze, but the building started to groan under the fire’s attack. Timbers snapped and gave way inside. She winced and took a step back. The blaze had a life of its own.
    Soon, it became clear the firefighters weren’t going to be able to save Snead’s. Their priority shifted to saving the