Fireproof

local cop watering hole and she’d never think twice about his being anything other than an interested citizen paying his respects. He’d done just that many times. He liked hanging out, listening to them. Got some of the best information directly from the cops. Details that would help him tweak his methods or give him fresh ideas for his future ventures.
    Yeah, he liked cops. Respected them. Even admired them. Probably would have been one, once upon a time, if he hadn’t become so successful in his own profession. Now he made too much money to even consider something in law enforcement. He was good at what he did, in demand. He liked his lifestyle. It gave him plenty of freedom for his outside interests, for his restless spirit and his curiosity-induced adventures.
    He watched her walk the entire block, then suddenly she turned around.
    Damn! She was good .
    He stayed in the shadows and smiled. He’d never expected tofind someone who piqued his interest here. A most unlikely place. He liked this lady cop. Liked that she could sense his presence. Made it interesting. A challenge.
    She was confident, smart, strong-minded. He liked strong women. He particularly liked to hear them scream.

CHAPTER 7

    “Hey, are you okay?”
    Racine was right beside Maggie. Her voice so quiet and gentle, Maggie almost didn’t recognize it.
    She hated that tone, that look of concern. It grated on her nerves and shoved her guard carefully back into place. Since she’d gotten shot last October, too many people approached her like she might shatter or snap before their eyes. And she was getting sick and tired of it.
    “I’m fine.”
    “You don’t look so good.” Racine dealt the second blow. At least, that’s what it felt like.
    Maggie’s best friend, Gwen Patterson, had told her to ignore the kid-glove treatment. People were just showing their concern. Getting pissed off by it would only validate their concerns, their suspicions. Actually, Maggie added “suspicions.” Gwen had used “concerns.”
    “I thought I saw someone. Back there behind the lamppost.”
    She saw Racine glance over to the area but her eyes didn’t spend much time there and she looked back at Maggie.
    Oh great! Now they’d all think she was paranoid, seeing things in the shadows.
    “You said on the phone the body was outside.” Maggie needed to change the subject, wipe that look of concern off Racine’s face. “Where is it? Can we take a look?”
    “It’s in between the burning building and the next.”
    Maggie turned and started walking toward the perimeter, making Racine follow and hopefully transferring the detective’s mind back to the scene and off Maggie’s newly revealed vulnerability.
    “We have to wait until the hose monkeys are finished,” Racine said. “Just hope they don’t wash away and trample all the trace. Right now they say it’s too dangerous for us to be there.” Then Racine shrugged and crossed her arms like they were in for a wait.
    Maggie wanted to ask her, Why didn’t you wait to call me or say not to hurry? Her patience ran thin with Racine, sometimes hanging on by a frayed thread. Maggie wasn’t quite sure why the woman still pushed her buttons after five years. After all, they’d become friends … sort of friends.
    In the beginning, Racine’s reckless tactics had grated on Maggie. The young detective was all bravado, taking unnecessary risks, smart-mouthing and bullying her way through the ranks as though she believed it was necessary to compensate for being a woman. All the while it was like she was shouting, “Yeah, I’m a woman, you wanna make something of it?”
    Even now Maggie wondered if Racine, with her jacket left open, was showing off her badge and gun or her full breasts in the tight knit shirt. Or both, as a way of constantly pushing, constantly daring. Racine’s version of Dirty Harry’s “Go ahead, make my day.”
    Maggie had spent her entire career doing just the opposite, trying to draw little attention to herself, wanting to blend in by wearing suits that matched her boss’s style. She spent extra time at the shooting range, worked out, and kept in shape so she could defend herself and cover her partner’s back. She didn’t want special credit. Unlike Racine, the last thing she wanted her colleagues to notice was that she was a woman.
    Now Maggie started to glance around, pretending to assess the scene and trying to hide the fact that she was searching for an escape. She avoided