Chapter Seventeen

Remy catapulted out of the water and groped the pocket of his discarded jeans. A strip of condoms fell out, but he found the phone. Julia followed him, wet and sleek as a seal. She fumbled trying to get her shirt over her head. Remy ripped it away. “Later. Call 9-1-1 right now.”

He drew up his jeans, stumbling along over shell shards and close-cut brambles as he headed for the temporary water line he’d had installed for the work crew and its pitiful single hose. He turned the tap on full and stretched the line toward the old kitchen as far as it could go, wetting first the shingles, then working down to the ground where the flames licked at the old, grease-saturated boards with relish.

Julia came rushing to his elbow. She’d had the sense to put on her sneakers as well as the T-shirt that clung to her as if she’d entered a contest to show off her body. Sensible woman had his shoes and phone in hand. No panic about his Julia.

“The fire department is on its way. Put your shoes on, and I’ll hold the hose.” She directed the water to the outer corner of the wooden annex, but the fire seemed to run completely around its base. The glow penetrated the deep shadows of the oaks. “Do you see him?” Julia questioned. “A man over there watching the hotel burn!”

Remy peered at where she pointed. A figure, slender and white, light-haired, lurked there. “No ghost,” he said. The form took off, swinging two red gas cans like exercise weights.

“I’ll follow him!”

Remy held Julia back by grasping the neck of her shirt. “No way. He could jump you anywhere out to the road.”

A truck gunned its engine. In the distance, sirens sounded, rushing aid to the Queen.

“I think he’s gone. I should steer the firemen.”

“I wish you had your crowbar along, but okay. Be careful.”

As she scooted off toward the road, Remy asked himself why he bothered trying to put out the fire. Instinct? Trying to impress Julia? The connection Julia spoke of that he’d felt and denied? Letting the Queen burn hewed to his best interests. Nothing more to stand between them with the ancient hotel reduced a heap of ashes. Still, he didn’t turn off the hose.

The fire engines took advantage of the new culverts and pulled into place. Part of the crew emptied the well of the pumper truck onto the inferno while another ran a line to the bayou to suck up more water, a far cry from the bucket brigades of the Queen’s youth. Remy shut the spigot, recoiled the hose, and let the professionals and well-trained volunteers work.

Chapelle’s new fire chief, a younger man with the fitting name of Ashton Blaise, stalked over to him. Julia dogged the heels of his fireman’s boots like an eager Dalmatian. Remy wondered if she noticed how handsome the man was, how heroic in his gear.

“Any idea why this started and who might have done it?” Chief Blaise questioned. “Ms. Rossi said you saw a man carrying gas cans leave the area.”

“We did.”

“A thin blond man,” Julia prompted.

“Only person I can think of fitting that description is Todd, Julia’s intern.”

Her outrage burned as hot as the fire. “How could you even suggest that? Todd totally supports restoration!”

Because the other man resembling Todd was his cousin, NuNu. Broussards did not rat on each other, even if they defended a rat.

The sheriff walked up and caught the tail end of the conversation. “I can think of another, Nolan “NuNu” Broussard. He has a record, but not for arson. Cousin of yours, Remy, right? We’ll check out both of them.” A man on the job for years, he knew about everyone in the area. Anyone focusing on his middle-aged gut and gray mustache instead of his shrewd eyes made a big mistake.

“Todd isn’t used to hard work in this climate. He was in bed before I left Alleman.” Julia staunchly defended her apprentice.

“And you were here because…” Sheriff LeDoux probed.

Julia shrugged, lifting the T-shirt that covered her to the thighs a little too high for Remy’s comfort. “We had a picnic on the new dock and went for a dip in the bayou.”

“That’s what you were doing out here in the middle of the night?”

“It’s my property and not the middle of the night, barely past nine o-clock.” Remy let his irritation show. “Even you were still awake.”

“Just thinking burning this place down would work in your favor.” Sheriff LeDoux contemplated the annex as its roof caved in over the old kitchen.

“I think Julia, who is highly in favor of saving this place, can vouch for me. We were both in the water when I noticed the smoke.”

“Yes, that’s right.” She spoke as if she begrudged Remy the alibi.

“Sorry we couldn’t spare this part of the hotel. Can we get in the front to make sure the fire hasn’t spread?” Chief Blaise asked.

“It’s open. Go ahead. I did block off the old kitchen recently. That might hold back the flames.” He truly regretted polishing the bannister and the parquet now, only more fuel for the fire.

“Lex,” Blaise called to one of the firemen heading up a group of volunteers. “Take a few men inside and make sure we don’t have worse to handle. Check upstairs as well.”

Remy winced at what they’d find in the ballroom. The answer wasn’t long in coming when Lex reported in to his leader. A broad smile split his black face. “No penetration on the main floor, but maybe some kids fooling around upstairs in the ballroom: sleeping bags, empty wine bottle, and this.” He dangled a delicate bra from his gloved finger and glanced at Julia in her damp tee as if assessing her cup size. “Could be they started the fire for more fun and games.”

“I’ll take that!” Julia snatched her underwear from the fireman’s grip. “As I said, we decided to go for a swim after having a little wine. No crime in that.”

Having given his report, Lex backed away. “Surely not a crime, ma’am.” But he failed to wipe that suggestive grin off his face.

“Glad we could save most of the hotel. My wife would not forgive me if I allowed it to burn. She’s solidly with the preservationists,” Blaise said.

Great, the fire chief’s wife ran the local animal shelter. Even the animal activists were on Julia’s side. At least, Julia now knew the guy was married. Although still clearly pissed at him, she eyed Remy avidly. “You could have let her burn. I think in your heart of hearts, you want to restore this building.”

He denied it. “Plenty of good salvage to be taken out of the Queen yet. All I did was turn on a hose to protect my own best interests. The firefighters saved her.”

They stayed until the last coal drowned in water, and the firemen packed up their gear. The sheriff had gone on his way with a promise to stop by both Alleman and NuNu’s trailer. Reports would be ready Monday morning if Remy needed them for insurance purposes. Black streaks of soot marred the rear of the Queen, not that the cracked stucco over her bricks was all that attractive anymore.

Julia mused, “We’d wash that old plaster and put a new top coat on it. The hotel would gleam in the sunshine again like a white temple.”

Remy didn’t answer. “Can we go inside and check things out?” he asked Blaise, really meaning could they retrieve the sleeping bags and the rest of Julia’s clothes. At one point during the wait, she’d slipped into the deepest of the shadows and put on her bra, guessing rightly they were fooling no one.

“Sure. Glad we could put this one out with so little damage to the main structure.” Tipping his fireman’s hat, Chief Blaise left in his official red vehicle.

Julia charged ahead of Remy, up the stairs to the ballroom. The firemen had closed the windows, but a smoky haze hung in the air like the ghosts that supposedly haunted the place. She sat on the sleeping bags to draw up her panties and shorts, but let her shirt hang out over her thighs. No tucking in to show her shape.

Worth a try he figured, Remy asked, “Do you still want to spend the night?”

“No, I do not! Trying to foist the blame off on Todd when your own relative is responsible—I cannot believe you did that.”

“We don’t know NuNu is guilty.” He offered a hand to help her up. She slapped it away and sprang up on her own. Nothing more to do than roll up the sleeping bags and pack out the empty bottle and glasses.

“All I can say is you had better be at that meeting with Hartz if you expect me to trust you again. The Queen deserves a fair chance, not death by arson.” Her last words of the evening.

The ride to his house was swift and silent. Julia jumped ship at his dock before he had the Cormorant properly tied up. She sat in her truck until he opened the gate, then roared off into the night, her vehicle sounding as annoyed as she.

Yeah, he’d be at the meeting on Monday since he’d made a deal to attend. Too bad it wouldn’t and couldn’t make any difference to the fate of the Queen.