Fireproof

reaction.
    Maggie glanced back at Patrick. His hair was dripping. He must have jumped out of the shower to come to her defense. All he had on was a towel around his waist. She tamped down the urge to roll her eyes, but couldn’t stop a smile. No wonder Ramirez was blushing.
    “Everything’s fine,” Maggie told him. “Ms. Ramirez has something she needs to show me at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.”
    “Actually Patrick may want to see this, too.”
    Maggie stepped aside and waved Ramirez inside, enjoying her obvious discomfort as she passed by Patrick.
    “Let me grab some clothes.” And he disappeared down the hallway.
    “I thought Agent Tully already went over the footage from the warehouse fires?”
    “We stopped when he found the man with the red backpack.”
    Without waiting for permission, Ramirez started unloading the camera, adapter, cords, and cables.
    “Agent Tully didn’t ask to see any more after that. But I noticed something.”
    She stopped herself. Looked up at Maggie. Her eyes flicked to Patrick, who had returned, now wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt. She quickly looked back to Maggie.
    “Actually I noticed someone in the crowd. He wasn’t there until after the second blast.”
    She pointed at Maggie’s television. “If I can plug it into your TV we’ll have a much better and bigger view.”
    “Here, I can help you with that.” Patrick slipped past Maggie and held out a hand for the cable.
    Maggie stood back and watched the two of them. She admitted electronic gadgets baffled her, but these two knew exactly what they were doing. And now she saw that the attraction went both ways—a graze of a hand, eyes trying to avoid but stealing quick glances.
    Without warning she thought about Ben. She certainly understood that uncontrollable physical reaction. Her body wanted what her mind told her she couldn’t have. Telling herself that she couldn’t have Ben only made her want him more. Would she ever get it right? Would she ever fall for a man who was emotionally available at the same time that she was emotionally available?
    Patrick turned on the TV. Ramirez pressed some buttons on the camera and suddenly the blaze from the other night filled the big screen.
    “This is right after the second blast.”
    Ramirez had swept the shaky camera across the grounds in front of her. She must have just been getting up off the ground. Maggie recognized Tully on his hands and knees, Racine beside him. And to his left she realized she was looking at herself. She hardly recognized the woman lying facedown, flat on the ground, pulling herself up onto her elbows. Back behind them was the perfect shot of the second building engulfed in flames. Ramirez couldn’t have positioned herself better without planning it.
    “Watch carefully. He’ll be up on the far left of the screen.”
    The image jerked around again. Ground then sky, like an airplane nose-diving before pulling up.
    “I was a bit unsteady on my feet,” Ramirez apologized. “It gets better.”
    The camera moved off Maggie, following Racine, who was on her feet and rushing to help a group of people beyond the crime scene tape. Several were still sprawled on the ground.
    The camera paused on them, then continued tracking. In the background Maggie could hear a low voice—Jeffery Cole narrating the scene, frame by frame. Ramirez had turned down the sound.
    The camera’s view swung back a little farther, taking in the crowd gathering on the sidewalk across the street. It panned the length of them, and halfway through Ramirez punched a button and froze the image. She put the camera down and walked to the left side of the television.
    “Right here.” She pointed at a man standing in the middle of the crowd, hands in his pockets, face expressionless. On the screen the image was big enough and focused enough to recognize, and although Maggie thought he looked familiar she couldn’t place him.
    Ramirez, however, wasn’t interested in Maggie’s reaction. Instead she was looking at Patrick.
    “Who is he?” she finally asked.
    “Wes Harper,” Patrick told her. “My partner.”
    And suddenly Maggie became interested. She walked across the living room to stand in front of the television, taking in as much of Wes Harper as she could.
    “It’s probably no big deal,” Patrick said. “He told me he likes to go watch other fires.”
    “Watch them?” Sam said. “Isn’t that a little weird?”
    “Tell me about him,” Maggie asked