Nothing Left to Burn

  I shut my eyes and imagined the moment when I pulled over to the curb. “It curled out from under the eaves. It was thick and moving fast.”

  “What color was it?”

  “Light. It didn’t turn black until after the trucks arrived and vented.”

  Steve wrote more notes. “I want you to take a look at these summaries. See if anything there reminds you of Saturday’s fire.” From a folder, he took out three sheets of paper.

  I read the papers. Three other fires this year, all empty and boarded-up homes. “He’s practicing.”

  Steve angled his head. “Why do you think that?”

  “Three previous fires—Saturday’s makes four. All residential homes. All were empty. Foreclosures. And the flames—each report states flames were colored. Purple, blue, green. Rainbow fire.”

  At Steve’s raised eyebrow, I elaborated. “Something I learned in J squad. Metals burn in color; that’s the principle behind fireworks. At Saturday’s fire, I saw green flames.”

  “Were all the flames green?”

  “No. No, they weren’t. Only the first flames I saw were green, after the truck crew ventilated the roof. You’d need a lot of chemicals to produce that much green fire, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “I saw Larry Ecker leave the chemistry lab at school. The lab was empty and should have been locked. He’s not even taking chemistry. Coloring fire is possible with metals—metal salts, right? The chem lab would have those. Blue fire could be butane or copper chloride. And the purple flame could be created with potassium chloride. This isn’t about destroying property. He just likes the colors.”

  Steve and Dad exchanged a look, and then Steve put all his reports back in the folder. “Reece, thank you for talking to me. I think the Ecker boy is a good lead.” He smiled, revealing that gap between his teeth, and left.

  Mom shut the door after him and then stood awkwardly in the living room. “Well, thanks for bringing him home, John.”

  “Yeah, no problem.” Dad stood up and looked back at me. “Reece, I get why you gave Amanda some time. But you can’t do that anymore.”

  “I know.” I hoped Amanda and me could be more than friends. But she didn’t—or couldn’t—trust me. “I wonder if the only reason she showed you guys my note was to get me off her foster brother’s back.”

  Dad shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and made a face. “Maybe, maybe not. I really get the sense that she cares about you. A lot. But she doesn’t want to. She gave it to me pretty good about the way I treat you.”

  Mom snorted. “Smart girl.”

  Dad shot Mom a look. “Reece, could you do me a favor? Could you give me and your mom a few minutes to talk alone?”

  My eyes narrowed. He didn’t look pissed off, but he could be sneaky about it sometimes. I nodded and walked upstairs to my room. I left the door open so I could run interference the minute I heard raised voices, but there weren’t any. In fact, I didn’t hear anything at all until the front door shut an hour later.

  Chapter 30

  Amanda

  “I need your help,” I said in a breathless rush the second Bear opened his front door.

  “No way, Man.” Bear waved both hands. “You got Reece kicked out.”

  I stuck my foot in the door before he could close it in my face. “I can get him back in, if you help me.”

  Bear crossed thick arms over his chest and angled his head. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  I smiled my thanks. “I want to fix things.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the thing. The letter? Lieutenant Logan called Reece’s mom and told her to take him to a hospital.”

  Bear dropped his arms. “What?”

  “That’s why nobody’s heard from him. He’s been in the hospital. Psych eval.”

  “Jesus, Man.” Bear sank to the porch steps and scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Shit. You ruined his life. They’re never gonna let him come back now.”

  “They might if his friends defend him. Talk about how great he’s been, how much he loves J squad. That kind of thing.”

  “Aw, fuck.” Bear dropped his head and blew out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Bear, I’m sorry. I thought I was helping. His dad hates him. When I saw that note—I don’t know.” I lifted my hands. “His pain was just so raw, you know?”

  “Okay, so what are we supposed to do? If they put Reece in a hospital, they must believe that too. How are we supposed to change that?”

  “I don’t know. But we have to try. Can you talk to the other guys? I’m going over to his house now to talk to his mom. Maybe, if we all talk to the chief, he’ll listen.”

  Bear raised his head and shook it. “I’ll give it a try. But what if it’s true? What if Logan’s really sick?”

  “If he is, then he needs friends. He needs to know he’s liked and respected and—and—”

  “Wanted,” Bear supplied, and I nodded.

  “Yeah. Wanted.”

  ***

  By the time I got to Reece’s house, it was dinnertime. I was going to be in trouble when I got back to the Becketts’. Mrs. Beckett was strict about mealtimes, but I couldn’t worry about that now. I had to talk to Mrs. Logan, tell her what I knew about Reece and his stupid note. Why had he bothered to show it to me in the first place?

  I straightened my shoulders, took a deep breath, and pressed the doorbell. The door opened, and instead of Mrs. Logan, it was the lieutenant.

  He frowned. “What are you doing here, Jamison?”

  “John! Don’t be rude.” Mrs. Logan slapped his arm and opened the door wider.

  “Um, Mrs. Logan, I wanted to talk to you about Reece. Could I come in?”

  John rolled his eyes and stepped aside. I followed them into the living room. “I’m Amanda Jamison, from the junior squad.”

  “Yes, I know. Have a seat.” She waved a hand at the sofa that faced the big window at the front of the house. She sat on the love seat next to it. To my total shock, John sat beside her. I took off my backpack and sat on the edge of the sofa.

  “What do you need, Amanda?” John’s tone was abrupt.

  I swallowed hard. “Um, okay. I wanted to apologize for making trouble for your family. I thought I was helping Reece. I’m no expert, but when I recognized that one line in his note, I got scared.”

  Mrs. Logan waved off my concern. “I’m glad you said something. I read that note, and honestly, I’m still worried.”

  John flung up his hand and rolled his eyes. “Abby, will you stop? The kid’s fine, I told you.”

  “John, you talked to him for an hour. Would you even know if he lied to you?”

  The lieutenant’s lips tightened into a line. “I talked to him, Abby. I apologized. I even hugged the kid. What more do you want?”

  I shifted, uncomfortable with the accusing tone. I was trying to fix things, not make them worse, and that seemed to be all I was doing. I jumped up. “Um, so would it be okay to visit Reece?”

  “Yeah, go on up.” Lieutenant Logan waved his hand, happy to be rid of me.

  “John!”

  “What? He’s probably up there missing her. Give the kid a break.”

  Um, yeah. Upstairs? Okay. I’ll just walk slowly away and jog up the stairs while they argue over it.

  At the top of the stairs, I hesitated in front of the open door to Reece’s room. There he was, sitting at a desk with one hand petting a big black-and-white dog, the other clicking through some online search results. He still wore the hospital bracelet around his wrist. I tapped on the door and stepped inside. He looked over his shoulder and, when he saw me, broke into one of those huge grins I didn’t deserve at all.

  “Hey,” I said lamely.

  His smile disappeared. I figured it was because he just remembered to hate me. “What are you doing h
ere?” The dog sat up and twitched his ears at me.

  Where do I start? “Uh, well,” I stammered, trying to find the right words. “Everybody misses you. Especially Bear. He’s sent you, like, a dozen texts.”

  Reece swiveled in his chair, faced me directly, and folded his arms. “And what about you? Do you miss me, Amanda?”

  God, yes. More than I can ever tell you. “A little.”

  He snorted. “Right. Well, thanks for stopping by.” He swiveled back to his laptop.

  What? No, I was not about to let him get rid of me that fast. “There’s more.”

  The chair squeaked when he shifted back to face me. I stared down at my hands, clenching and unclenching them. I unzipped my backpack and took out the container I’d rescued from the trash that morning. “I’ve been watching Larry for days. He’s acting strange. Nervous. I’ve caught him sneaking out twice. This morning, he was helping Mr. Beckett do yard work, and I watched him steal this from the garage, then bury it under a pile of trash at the curb.”

  Reece stood up and took the plastic jug. “What is it?”

  “No idea. Chemistry’s not my strong suit.”

  He uncapped the top, took a sniff, and frowned. “Maybe it’s just water?”

  “No way Larry would have risked getting in trouble for just water.”

  “So if it’s a chemical, why would he throw it away?”

  I shook my head. “I think he was stealing it. It’s probably something Mr. Beckett got from school. He doesn’t let us in the garage. Ever. Not even when he needs yard help. It’s like his man cave or something. He’s got a TV and a big chair out there, plus a ton of chemicals he uses to design lab exercises. But Larry knew right where this was. I think you were right, Reece. I think he’s been taking stuff from Mr. Beckett…you know, to play. I think he hid this with the trash, hoping to rescue it as soon as his chores were done so he could play some more.”

  Slowly, deliberately, he angled his head and stared at me for a long moment. “So let me get this straight. You’re basically saying everything I said was right and that I didn’t need to spend the last couple of days strapped to a hospital bed getting my head shrunk?”

  “Reece, please. I—”

  “What, Amanda? You want to take another kick at me? Go ahead. Can’t possibly do any more damage.” His voice rose, and the dog’s ears went back.

  Tears burned my throat. “I’m sorry! I should have listened to you. But I’m not sorry about the note.”

  “I trusted you!” He kicked at his chair, sending it skidding across his room. “You were the only one I showed that fucking note to, and you ratted me out to protect a kid who isn’t even your brother. Tucker, quiet!” He pointed a finger, and the dog stopped his mad barking.

  “Reece, I—”

  He flung up a hand. “My mother hasn’t slept in days. And me—they pumped me full of so many drugs, I’m still whacked, so excuse me for saying there is no reason, no excuse, you could possibly tell me to make up for that.”

  “I can’t lose you.”

  The words bounced around the small bedroom and hung in the air. I clapped a hand over my mouth. How had they escaped? I was afraid to think them, let alone form them, and suddenly, they’d exploded from me like verbal diarrhea. Judging by the sneer on Reece’s face, they smelled as bad.

  “Lose me? Are you fucking kidding me? All you do is push me away,” he said.

  “Because I have no idea how long I’ll be here, not because I want you to die,” I shouted back. “Jesus, Reece. Anybody who looks in your eyes after you and your dad go a round can see it. But those words! They’re from a suicide note. I—Jesus, Reece—” I broke off when my voice hitched on a sob. “I had to do something before you—” I couldn’t say it, didn’t want to think of him lifeless, in a box in the ground next to Matt. I didn’t want to imagine never seeing that breathtaking smile again, or never seeing that little boy joy when the trucks rolled out. My lungs constricted, and I couldn’t breathe, and suddenly, he was there, right there, his arms holding me.

  “Hold on, Amanda. Just hold on to me. Hold on.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to remember how to breathe.

  He gripped my arms and held me back. “Look at me. I’m not going anywhere.” He ran his hands over my hair, my shoulders, and my back, and my heart just flipped over.

  Oh crap.

  I’d done it. I’d done the one thing my foster parents and my social worker and my guidance counselor had cautioned me—warned me—not to do.

  I’d fallen in love with a boy.

  No. Not just a boy.

  Reece Logan. The only boy.

  “I’m sorry,” I croaked when I could talk. “For everything. I didn’t think about what they’d do to you. I only wanted to save you.”

  “Save me,” he echoed and smiled. “But you’ve been treating me like crap.”

  “Yeah, about that.” I sat on his bed, my back up against the wall. “I was trying to not fall in love with you.” His eyes nearly popped out of his head, so I rushed on. “If I can just hold out with the Becketts until I’m twenty-one, I’ve got a good shot, Reece. A really good shot. The state will pay my way for college, but I need a car, rent, books, clothes. And Mr. Beckett has a strict no-boys policy. You have no idea what it’s like living with the constant threat of reassignment over your head.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Guess I don’t.”

  “But all of that’s just an excuse.” When his eyes went wide, I rushed ahead before I lost all my courage. “Love scares me, Reece. It scares the fucking hell out of me.”

  He let out a snort. I shot up a hand and continued. “My mom got stuck with me because she loved a guy who didn’t love her back enough to stick around and take care of the kid he made. And then she got sent to prison when I was barely nine years old because she loved another guy who didn’t deserve it. She left me, Reece. She loved someone else more than she loved me, and I—oh God! I just couldn’t stand if that happened with you.” I folded my legs and leaned forward. “I tried as hard as I could to stay away from you, but you have those puppy-dog eyes and that smile that makes me think of Christmas morning, and you’re so devoted to your father for no reason except that he’s your dad and—and—damn it, I didn’t want to love you. I didn’t want you to matter.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “Wait. Are you telling me that all this time—”

  “Yeah. I love you.”

  “Say it again,” he whispered.

  “What—oh. Once wasn’t enough?” My face burned.

  “Only three people in my entire life have ever said that to me before, and one’s dead. Say it again.”

  “Only one person in my entire life ever said it to me, and she’s in prison, so, okay. I love—”

  His mouth was on mine before I finished talking, swallowing the words like they were food. My heart sped up so fast, I could hear it beat. His hands on my face warmed me all the way to my toes, and when I felt his lips part, I forgot all about the no-boys rule and aging out of care and the statistics and the note. This kiss was all there was, and I never wanted it to stop.

  Until a tongue licked me from neck to temple and I squealed.

  “Jeez, Tucker. Get your own girl.” He pushed the dog’s head away from mine. I giggled.

  “Tucker?”

  Reece blinked at me, idly rubbing his lips. “Oh, um, yeah. My buddy. And apparently yours too,” he added when Tucker put his head down on my lap, staring up at me with adoring eyes. “My dad bought him when Matt said he wanted a dog. But Matt never really had enough patience to train him, play with him, and stuff.”

  “He’s pretty.” The dog’s thick coat was snow white and jet black. If he stood on his hind legs, he’d be as tall as I was. When he looked up at me, I swore he was grinning.

  “So are you.”

 
My already-hot face burst into flame, and I looked away in frustration. A boy finally noticed I was a real girl, and I choked.

  Reece took my hand, his thumb making quiet little circles on the back of my hand that weirdly had the same effect on me as his kiss. His other arm came around my shoulders, hugging me closer. “I’m sorry. I get why you’ve been so determined to help me with my dad now though.”

  “You do?”

  “There wasn’t much to do, strapped to a hospital bed, except think. So I thought. A lot. And I realized that this whole thing with your mom and her boyfriend and foster care—J squad is your family. And you shared it with me.”

  Crap. Do not cry. Not now. I was a sixteen-year-old foster kid who still believed in fairy-tale magic. There should be a pill for that or something.

  ***

  Steve Conner held a long slim lighter to the glass dish that held the mystery fluid I’d rescued from the trash along with a little fuel.

  It ignited and burned—green.

  “Boric acid.” He took off his gloves and safety glasses. “You say your foster brother took this out of the garage?” He wiped his hands on his pants and picked up a piece of fried chicken from a plate he had left on the table.

  “Yeah. Well, maybe. He might have been throwing it out. I can’t be sure.”

  “But he knew where to find it.” Steve squinted at me. “You live with this kid. Do you believe Larry could have set that fire?”

  I sank into a chair in the conference room we used for junior squad lessons and spread my hands apart. “I don’t know, Steve. The thing is he’s a pretty good kid. I’ve met my share of messed-up kids, and he’s just not like them.” I watched Steve devour the chicken leg.

  “Oh, um,” he said with his mouth full. “Want some? Ken fried up a huge batch. There’s lots left in the kitchen. Help yourselves.”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t sure I could eat. The green flame fizzled out. Reece put down the fire extinguisher he held and waved a hand at the glass dish. “Was boric acid used at all the fires?”

  Steve looked at the pile of file folders on the table but didn’t open them. “No.”