Too Hot to Handle by Pascal Francine

Author:Pascal, Francine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-01-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Steven shrugged Elizabeth's hand off his shoulder as he mentally compared the papers on John's desk with the printout on arsonists he'd received anonymously. The slightly skewed printing was identical. He was almost sure. The Web page must have come through the same printer, he thought excitedly.

He felt Elizabeth give his shoulder a hard shake. "What is it?" he grumbled, scowling at her. Elizabeth's face was as white as chalk as she stared at something behind him. He jerked his head around and saw a guy skulking across the office toward them.

"What do you think you're doing, going through my stuff?" the guy demanded.

Steven slowly straightened and replaced the papers on John's desk. A feeling of hot, raw anger surged through him. "You must be John Pfeifer," he said, forcing his voice to maintain a level tone. He kept his hands at his sides, even though he was itching to wrap them around the creep's meaty throat. Steven hated him for what he'd done to Lila . . . and for what he might have done.

"What's going on?" John asked.

"I can explain," Elizabeth blurted, her face turning bright pink now.

"So can I," Steven said, taking charge. He leaned back against the side of the desk and folded his arms. "I'm Steven Wakefield."

"I know who you are," John snapped. "What I want to know is what you're doing at my desk."

"I'm with the D.A.'s office," Steven continued, "looking into the Fowler Crest fire. We're pretty sure it was arson."

"What does that have to do with me?" John questioned.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Nothing, most likely. But Steven thought . . . you see, he . . . um . . ."

Steven shot her a silencing look and turned to John. "Have you been following the story at all?" he asked in a deceptively casual tone.

John snorted. "I read the newspaper and watch the news, just like everyone else. But that doesn't explain why you're going through my things."

"Doesn't it?" Steven challenged.

"You don't scare me," John said. "Because I don't have anything to hide. But unless you have a search warrant, get away from my stuff."

Steven pushed himself off the desk immediately. "No problem," he said with a wide-eyed look of forced innocence.

Elizabeth's hand trembled as she brushed her fingers over her lips. Steven could see how uncomfortable she was about the confrontation, but he pressed on. He had a job to do.

"By the way, John, where were you the night the fire broke out at Fowler Crest?" Steven asked.

"I don't have to answer any of your questions," John retorted, "But just for the record, I was out bowling with some friends—until very late."

Steven sniffed. "I didn't know you had any friends."

Elizabeth made a small, gasping sound and turned away, shaking her head.

John Pfeifer uttered a derisive laugh. "I still have a few," he spat. "Lila Fowler hasn't managed to turn everyone against me—although she certainly tried."

Steven nodded, "I take it you're very angry with her for ruining your life."

"If you're making accusations, you'd better have some solid proof," John warned.

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