Irresistible Stranger

had been awakened by the sound of the fire truck.

Her heart was thudding with dread, but she told herself not to panic.

She told herself that there was no reason to worry this had anything to do with her. That was pretty darned self-centered thinking. Everything wasn’t about her.

Yet she whipped around, started searching for clothes. She’d just yanked a long-sleeved tee over her head when she sensed a sharp white flash of light, followed by a growl that made the whole house shake. Thunder. Lightning close enough to smell the ozone. Seconds later, rain slashed in the west windows, making the curtains dance and shake.

She pushed down the windows, turned and promptly hit her knee on the four-poster in the dark. She found underpants, shorts-though she couldn’t see what color-bent down, groped for her sandals. She could still hear the sirens. Her heart pounded as uncontrollably as a child’s nightmare. She rushed downstairs, almost tripping on the bottom step, and found Louella standing with her cane at the back screen door, wearing a housecoat and pink Crocs.

She’d lit a utility candle, put it in the sink, which illuminated just enough for Lily to find her way across the room.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Louella said. “You’re my only tenant right now. I never mind that. But the house always feels bigger and creakier in a storm. I was worried how close that lightning was. Thought it might have hit the catalpa tree three doors down.”

“Are you worried? Do you have a storm shelter?”

“Heavens no, honey. This is just a storm. It’ll pass. Once that lightning’s moved off to the east, I’ll relax good and well.” But there was worry in her eyes when she looked at Lily. “You heard the sirens?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in our town with these fires, but I have to say, it’s starting to make me uneasy. I was told twice yesterday that I was making a mistake, letting a fire setter rent a room here. Of course, anyone listens to June Ellis should get their head examined. Damn fool woman married the biggest drinker in town, then whines about the mess she’s in. So that’s the kind of judgment she’s got.”

Lily’s heart sank. Louella was staring out at the rain again, not at her. “Louella, do you want me to move?” she asked quietly.

“Lands sake, no. Lordamighty. You didn’t think I’d believe silly talk like that, did you? Give me credit for some brains, honey. I took one look at your face and knew you had a good heart through and through.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me for being smart. I was born smart. Can’t take credit for it.”

Lily had to smile, but it faded fast. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble-”

“You couldn’t cause me trouble if you tried. I’m a Southern magnolia, sugar. Southern women know how to be strong.” Louella’s gnarled hand circled Lily’s wrist. “But I am worried about you.”

“It’s all right,” Lily reassured her. “There’s no reason to…”

Her voice trailed off when she saw the sheriff’s car pull up to the curb.

Even in the gloomy storm, the flashing lights of the car were unmistakable.

Louella had the door open before Herman Conner was halfway up the veranda steps. “Why, Sheriff Conner,” she started to say, but apparently the sheriff wasn’t in a Southern, courteous mood.

He looked past Louella, saw Lily, motioned a come-on with his forefinger.

“You and I need to have a talk,” he said curtly.

“Sure,” she said. “How can I help?”

“You can help by getting in the car. I won’t put cuffs on you if you just don’t make a fuss. We’ll talk at the station.”

Lily’s stomach clenched into a tight fist. “What? Are you telling me I’m under arrest?” She wanted to laugh. She really wanted to believe this was funny.

“Lily. Get your fanny in the car. I mean it. Now.”

“Now, sheriff, there’s no call to speak to Lily that way-”

“Louella, you stay out of this. I’m hot and I’m tired and I’ve had enough right now.”

The station was as dark as everywhere else. Electricity was still down. Daylight was coming on, but the only thing easy to see was the stale coffee in yesterday’s pot. Conner still poured himself a cold cup and offered her one. He motioned her into a back office with windows-not a jail-but the only place that had enough light to talk. The chairs were hard-core metal, the table a battered gray institutional type.

“Am I under arrest?” she finally had a chance to ask again.

Even in the poor light, she could see the hound-dog bags under Conner’s eyes and the pallor of exhaustion behind his ruddy skin. The patience and kindness he’d shown her before was missing in a raw way. He was having trouble even meeting her eyes, was antsier than even she was.

“Darned if I know,” he said. “I’m thinking on it. Don’t tell me you didn’t hear the sirens an hour ago.”

“I did.”

“The fire was in the library. Where you were yesterday.”

“Oh, no-”

“Yeah. ‘Oh no.’ I’m getting tired of these oh-nos. You come in town, suddenly there’s arson. Specifically, everywhere you’ve been. Sarah-Leigh, she’s the head librarian-”

“I know.” At his glare, Lily decided not to interrupt again.

“Sarah-Leigh saw you talking to Mr. Renbarcker at some length yesterday morning. She saw you in the childrens’ section and in the adult section. She didn’t specifically see you in the back reference room, but she didn’t know of a soul who was back there yesterday, either. That’s where the fire started. The old microfiche machines. The old newspaper records and archives.”

“Oh, no,” she said again.

“Just in case you didn’t realize, this town thinks of the library as a treasure. And in case you didn’t know, Griff’s Secret is one of the favorite haunts in town. Everybody loves that ice cream. Then there was the first fire in the old mill, just days after you got here. At least there was no harm done in that one, but that’s now three cases of arson. Three where a gasoline accelerant was used. And that’s a for sure, because there were the same burn patterns in the debris, which is how we all know there was an ignitable liquid in a fire, but not diesel, because diesel burns a whole lot different than gasoline. I suspect you know all that. Because every one of those places has a connection to you. And the fire your daddy and mama were killed in, back when, was a gasoline-started fire, too. Now. What do you expect me to make of all this, Lily Campbell?”

“That this is awful. That this can’t be coincidence.”

“Well, now, we’re sure on the same page there. So far, nobody’s been hurt. It’s just financial losses. Time, trouble, money. I put on an extra man these last few days, thankfully got to the library within two minutes of the alarm going off. Some records destroyed for sure, but nothing worse than that.”

“Thank heavens,” Lily breathed.

“No. There’s no more ‘thank heavens’ in this story. I don’t have, at this time, any concrete evidence to arrest you. But you’re the one and only suspect. The only one with a connection to these arsons. The only one. You have anything you’d like to say about that?”

“I didn’t do it, Sheriff. I’ve never set a fire in my life, anywhere, anytime. I teach school. You can check anything about my past you want, my school records, my work record. I had one speeding ticket when I was nineteen-that’s all. You’ve talked to me. You’ve surely gotten a feel for my character-”

“Yes, I have, honey. I don’t get any of this. None of us do. And I don’t want to believe you’re our arsonist, but I can’t separate you from these crimes either. I’m not arresting you. Not this minute. But this would usually be the moment when I say you can’t leave town-only, I’m real, real tempted to say the opposite. Get out of here. Go back to wherever you’re from. Stay away from Pecan Valley. Don’t show your head here again.”

The lights suddenly popped on. An air conditioner wheezed to life, and phones immediately started ringing. Lily hadn’t answered the sheriff, didn’t know what to say, when she suddenly saw Griff pushing through the heavy metal doors. He looked out of breath, wrinkled, unshaven and downright ticked off.

Griff gave her credit-more than credit. She held it together until he got her out in the fresh air, and then she