Tested by Fire. Kathryn Springer

expression the first time she’d seen him after the bandages had been removed. He’d seen the flare of sorrow in her eyes before she’d looked away. Funny, but he’d immediately sensed that the sorrow was for herself more than for him. Because if she married him, she’d be sentenced to a lifetime of staring at his burned skin.

      And what did Finn know about scars? A twenty-three-year-old who had grown up in the shelter of a large, loving family?

      Finn went back to the department after her relief showed up. Gil was at the desk. She skirted past him while he was studying the computer screen and went into the back office.

      The Juvenile files were closed to the public, but she scanned them briefly and found what she was looking for. Ricky Calhoun. It wasn’t a long report, but it was enough.

      Carl poked his head in the doorway. “Need a ride home, Finn?”

      “Sure. Just a minute.” Finn closed the file.

      “Looking for something in particular?” he asked curiously as they walked out to the parking lot.

      “Not really.” Finn hesitated and glanced at him as she slid in the passenger side of the squad car. “I was checking to see if we have anything on Ricky Calhoun.”

      “Ricky Calhoun?” Carl repeated the name in surprise. “Why?”

      “I think I saw him last night at the scene.”

      “And?”

      “I have a hunch.”

      “A hunch.”

      “I think that Ricky Calhoun has been setting the fires.”

      Carl gave a burst of amazed laughter. “You aren’t serious…Finn, you can’t be serious!”

      “He started a fire in a Dumpster when he was a freshman in high school,” she told him.

      “And that’s the basis for your hunch?” Carl was grinning. “Finn, that was years ago!”

      Finn was beginning to wish she had never mentioned it. “He’s bored. He hangs around doing nothing.” As she voiced her thoughts out loud, she realized how thin her suspicions were.

      “Finn, that kid is the son of the man who practically runs this city. Even if you had a picture of Ricky Calhoun standing outside a burning building, holding a match and wearing a T-shirt that said ‘I love the smell of smoke,’ it wouldn’t get past the DA’s office.” Carl turned the squad car into her driveway and looked at her. “A hunch isn’t enough for this one, kiddo.”

      “Maybe if you and I went to the Chief—”

      Carl held up one hand. “Whoa, slow down. I’m not going out on a limb with you on this one. Not without solid proof. Look, I know you feel like you have to prove yourself, but if you’re wrong and this backfires…” His index finger made a slicing motion across his neck.

      “I know.” Finn grabbed her logbook and shoved it in her bag. “See you next week.”

      Carl stuck his head out the window. “Did you forget that his dad is on the Police and Fire Commission?”

      “No,” Finn muttered, raising her hand in a halfhearted wave. “I didn’t forget.”

      The house was quiet when she opened the door. No Colin. She realized that John must have taken him over to the other house and was relieved at having no demands placed on her for the moment.

      Maybe it was crazy to think that Ricky Calhoun had anything to do with the fires. He was just a kid, not a professional arsonist. If it was him, the fire inspector would have figured it out by now. No wonder Carl thought the smoke had gotten to her. Still, the feeling was so strong.

      You can’t always trust your feelings.

      She tried to push the thoughts from her mind and took a quick shower to get rid of the smell of smoke that still clung to her skin. Putting on her swimsuit and a matching pair of shorts, she stepped outside. When she slipped in through the patio doors of the big house, she found her grandmother in the kitchen, making chicken salad.

      “Hi, sweetheart!” Anne hugged her. “John told us all about the fire. Did you just get home?”

      “About half an hour ago. Chief said my eight hours started when I was called in for the fire, so that gives me the rest of the day off.” She found a spoon and sampled the salad. “A total loss, but no one was hurt and the fire didn’t spread to other buildings.”

      “Have some more,” Anne offered. “I’ll bet you haven’t eaten since last night.”

      “Just coffee and a stale doughnut,” Finn admitted.

      “John took Colin for a walk a little while ago. They should be back any minute. It looks like you’re going to take a swim. It’s a beautiful day for it.” Anne chatted as she cleaned up the kitchen. “I have to get my hair done and then Seamus is taking me out for dinner tonight. He invited John along, but he said he’d prefer to stay here. The man keeps to himself, doesn’t he. I remember after the accident we invited him to family get-togethers and such, but he wouldn’t come.”

      “Doesn’t he have any family?” Finn asked.

      Anne shook her head. “He was moved around to different foster families most of his life, that’s all we know.”

      Finn’s heart ached for him. She couldn’t imagine growing up and being shifted around from place to place. The Kellys were woven tightly together and no matter how large they got or how much distance separated them, the fabric of family was never weakened.

      “Your grandpa took John under his wing after the accident. He was the one who talked to the powers-that-be at the Madison Agency to hire him. John got in and, within a few months, started to make a name for himself all on his own.”

      Finn wasn’t surprised. Gritty determination was evident in every line on the man’s face.

      They both heard a sharp bark, and Anne looked out the kitchen window. “They’re back.”

      Finn’s insides fluttered crazily again. She wondered if he was still angry with her. For some reason, honesty won out when she was with John Gabriel. She couldn’t help it that she didn’t notice the scar on his face when she looked at him.

      He hasn’t let You heal the things in his past yet, has he, God? Or let them be used for Your purposes? Do whatever it takes to help him open the door to Your love.

      Chapter Six

      When John walked into the kitchen, both the women looked guilty. Finn’s cheeks flushed two shades lighter than her hair and Anne started scooping up bowls of salad. They had been talking about him.

      “Thank you for taking Colin out,” Finn said, an odd formality in her tone.

      John was frustrated. If he was ever going to find out what was going on—if there was something going on—then he couldn’t let his personal feelings show. Normally, that wasn’t a problem, but something about Finn unsettled him. Now, she looked skittish, and uncomfortable, no doubt remembering the conversation they’d had at the fire scene.

      “Have some lunch, John.” Anne pushed a bowl of chicken salad toward him. “Seamus is resting and then we’re going out for the afternoon.”

      “It’s eleven o’clock, Gran,” Finn said suspiciously. “Why is Chief resting? Isn’t he feeling well?”

      “Oh, he’s just a little tired today.” Anne smiled, and John thought it looked forced.

      “Are you sure?” Concern for her grandfather drained the little bit of color from Finn’s face, and there were dark smudges under her eyes from lack of sleep.

      “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Anne patted her arm comfortingly. “I better wake him up if I’m going to make my hair appointment on time. You two enjoy the pool.”