Chapter 5: A hot time in the old town

The police and fire departments wouldn't let us though the barricades and there were EMS personnel on hand, so we parked and watched the fire burn helplessly. Keven was angry and he stalked back and forth along the barricade like a caged tiger, glaring at the burning building. I tried to take his shoulder to comfort him, but he just shrugged me off. His voice, when he did speak, was cold and furious, but I could tell it wasn't directed at me so I let him be.

The view was an educational one for me. My description of him as a hunter earlier was wrong. He was a predator. Not the kind that I watched the streets for at night; I wasn't afraid of him. He had a temper that wasn't to be trifled with, though. When someone crossed him, he wouldn't sit back and be rolled over. He got even. No, not even. He crushed those that crossed him. And the more he stalked, the angrier he was getting.

Rather than try and draw him away, I decided a better course might be to get more information to focus him. I walked over to one of the uniformed policemen blocking off the street. His unfocused gaze of the whole crowd sharpened as I approached him.

"Excuse me, officer, but my..." Christ, I'd almost said "boyfriend." I picked up after the hitch in my thoughts, "friend over there is the artist that was having the show in the gallery that's on fire. Can he talk to someone to find out how bad it is?"

"Probably," he agreed. "Hang on." He used his radio to call someone and pass the information up whatever chain of command they used. We could both hear the response that a detective would be there in a few minutes.

I nodded to him before he could repeat what I already heard. "I'll wait over here by my friend. Thank you." I walked back to stand near Keven and let him see me. Either my presence or my expression must have meant something to him because he took a deep breath and visibly shook himself.

"This isn't productive," he said in a deceptively calm voice. "You don't need to see me snarling about this. I should take you home."

"So, you think it's right to be there when I need you and to be alone when you need me?"

Keven shrugged. "It's a man thing. We don't talk about what hurts us; we track it down and do alpha male things to it. Me snarling at you and everyone around me isn't going to help anything." He resumed his pacing.

"If you don't want to talk, that's fine with me," I assured him. "I'm here as moral support silently, then. Just don't force me away."

He stopped in front of me, his dark eyes searched my face and he nodded. "Okay."

We both saw the man in a suit with a badge on his belt walk up to the cop and then over to us. "I'm Detective Sergeant Williams. I'm told that's your building. Is that right?"

Keven shook his head. "No, I own the artwork that is on display." He glanced back at the blazing inferno. "That was on display."

"It's all gone," the detective confirmed. "I'm sorry. The good news is that everyone got out safely. I need both of your names for the record." He pulled out a pen and notebook, jotting the information down. "Mister Braddock, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to destroy all your work?"

Keven laughed mirthlessly. "Hardly all my work, but I understand. It was all my new work. No, I don't think I've ever made any enemies that hate me this much. Can you tell me what happened?"

The detective considered that and slowly nodded. "Yeah, someone threw a brick through the front window and followed it up with a Molotov cocktail. The front of the building was an inferno within seconds. All the customers and staff escaped out the back while the sprinklers tried to fight the blaze and failed. We think the person or persons responsible may have thrown something else in after the first to overwhelm the fire suppression system." He shrugged. "In any case, the building and its contents were fully involved when the first responders got here and no one saw anything."

Keven nodded, anger seething just below the surface. "Was the stuff insured," the detective continued.

"Of course," Keven said. "I'd have been an idiot not to insure everything I do. The loss of all that work hurts, but it won't hurt my wallet."

"Will it help?" the detective asked.

That lit up a glare from Keven aimed at the hapless law enforcer. "Do you mean, will I be better off than if there was no fire? No. All the work was either sold already or soon to be sold. I had every reason to believe that all the pieces would be sold before the month is out. Insurance fraud isn't really a good one to pin on me, I'm afraid. I can't paint fast enough to keep up with demand."

The detective gestured at me with his chin. "What about your girlfriend?"

That brought a little humor to Keven's face and he glanced at me. "We're still discussing that."

I flushed, but didn't disagree.

The detective looked between us, a frown on his face. "What? No, I mean does she have someone that might take something out on her through you?"

That brought me up short and my eyes widened. A glance at Keven saw his expression go thoughtful. "Maybe. I... I was carjacked yesterday and a policeman killed the man. I didn't think..."

The detective's eyes sharpened considerably. "Did the man tell you something or give you something?"

I shook my head. "No, he was running from someone that I think had already shot him. He stole some money from me, but he didn't tell me anything or give me anything. Why?"

He scratched his head with the pen. I idly wondered how many pen marks he had on his scalp idly. "Because that might explain the one obvious piece of evidence we have so far."

I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "What do you mean?"

"Someone painted a message on the side of the building, in the alley. Probably before the fire was started. It said, 'I want what's mine, Bitch.'"

My heart flew into my throat making it hard to swallow. "Me?" I squeaked, backing up a step in surprise. "This was because of me?"

Keven pulled an arm around my shoulders and I retreated into his protection. The detective shrugged again. "Maybe. Or maybe someone wants something from the lady that owns the building. Or someone wants something from Mister Braddock and is gender challenged. Or it might not even be related. It's way too early to make a guess."

"You've got our contact information, Detective," Keven said. "If you don't have any more questions, I think we should go."

As he was nodding his agreement, my cell phone rang. I answered it shakily. "Hello?"

"This is Tom with Brinks Home Security. Is this Sandy Craig?" a mellow male voice asked.

"Yes." What now?

"Our systems indicate an alarm at your home, ma'am. Both entry and motion detector. Are you at home?"

"No," Now I was really shaking. "It's not me."

"I'm dispatching the police right away," he said calmly. "And the fire department. The fire alarm just activated. You should not go home until emergency personnel clear the alarm, ma'am."

I was shaking uncontrollably now. "Thank... Thank you." I hung up. Both the men were staring at me expectantly. It took another swallow to clear my throat so I could speak clearly. "Someone is breaking into my house and the fire alarm is on."

The detective grabbed his radio and notebook, dispatching more police to my address and telling them it was linked to the gallery fire. He stared at me. "Stay here." Then he ran back toward the gallery.

I felt like someone was pulling my intestines out through my bellybutton an inch at a time. My vision tunneled and I started hyperventilating. Shock, the doctoring me murmured. I should probably lay down before I fell down. A blanket would be good, too. And elevating my feet. When the world started spinning, Keven caught me as I slumped toward the ground and then everything went dark.

When I opened my eyes, I was disoriented. An unknown man in full fire gear was leaning over me, fitting an oxygen mask over my face. He was rapidly joined by another man in an EMS uniform. I blinked stupidly, looking around for Keven. I spotted him about five feet away, looking at me with concern etched all over his face.

I held my hand out toward him and he brushed the cop beside him away to kneel by my legs and take my hand. My blanket covered legs, I saw. At least someone listened to the voice in my head.

The fireman gave him a look that just bounced off Keven. When it was someone else's trouble, he was a lot more calm than his own it seemed. The paramedic spared Keven a glance and went back to work, looking into my eyes with a small light, unconcerned with the intrusion.

I focused on the paramedic and didn't try to speak until he started asking me the standard battery of questions. I know that a doctor that treats herself has a fool for a patient, so I tried not to be judgmental. Even with the oxygen, I still felt light-headed. If I were treating myself, I'd be loading me up into the ambulance and let the doctors at the hospital take a look at me. Still, when he said he was going to put me on the gurney and take me to the hospital, I shook my head. "No, I don't need to go to the hospital."

The paramedic started to argue, but Keven leaned over me and shook his head. I sighed with relief. He was going to back me up.

"No, let me," Keven told the paramedic. Then he looked down at me and smiled. "You're going to the hospital and that's final."

I blinked in surprise. "What?"

"You fainted and I want to be sure you're okay."

"I'm a doctor," I snorted. "I can tell what's going on."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "You can play it that way if you like. But if you don't go with him, I'll tie your ass to the back of my bike and drive you there myself. The little roller bed looks more comfortable."