On Fire by Carla Neggers Page A

His wounds had healed. He could climb tall mountains if he wanted to.
    He went to join Riley in the kitchen, but she’d already dashed off, presumably to her bedroom for more clothes. He poured himself a cup of coffee, made a spot at the table and sat down to mull over his options. Yesterday his mission had seemed clear. Find Emile. Start with Riley. Boom. Here he was.
    This morning, things were muddier. Riley had a job and didn’t want him around. Emile could be anywhere.Neither necessarily had any connection to the body found on Labreque Island.
    The telephone rang. Who’d be calling at seven in the morning? He waited a half beat after the final ring before picking up the portable.
    Riley was talking. “Sig—slow down. What’s wrong?”
    “Mom just talked to the police.” Sig spoke rapidly, obviously not getting enough air. “Riley, they’ve identified the man you found. Oh, Jesus. ”
    Straker stiffened. This wasn’t good news. He could hear Riley gulp in a breath. “Tell me.”
    “It’s Sam Cassain,” Sig said, sobbing.
    Riley was silent. Then, in a strangled whisper, “Oh, my God.”
    Straker frowned. “Who the hell’s Sam Cassain?”
    Sig almost screamed. “Riley? Who’s that? Who’s there?”
    “Straker, get off my damned phone!”
    He didn’t move. “Who’s Sam Cassain?”
    “John Straker?” Sig said, more calmly now. “Riley, what’s he doing in your apartment? Are you crazy? ”
    This wasn’t getting him anywhere. Straker hung up and went into the bedroom. Riley was sitting on the edge of her unmade bed in her work clothes, no shoes. Her eyes were huge. Her skin was pale. She stared up at him. “I’ll call you later, Sig,” she told her sister, and hung up.
    “Who’s Sam Cassain?” Straker repeated.
    She placed a shaky hand on her forehead. “He—he was the captain of the Encounter. ”
    The pieces fell together. “He’s the one who laid the blame for the explosion and fire at Emile’s feet.”
    She nodded dully.
    “He turns up dead on Labreque Island, and Emile disappears. Police’ll be calling you next.” He thought a moment, ignoring her increasing paleness. “Strike that. They’ll come see you in person. You didn’t recognize him?”
    “No. I didn’t get that close a look, and the gulls…”
    He remembered. “Emile must have figured it out.”
    “How could he? He never saw the body.”
    “Instincts,” Straker said.
    She slid to her feet. Her room was as cluttered as the rest of her apartment, but with feminine touches—a pair of earrings on the nightstand, a botanical print of beach plums above the bed, little jars of creams and perfumes on the bureau. She stood in front of him, smart, professional and quite pretty. And annoyed. “I don’t want you listening in on my phone conversations.”
    “Would you have told me about Cassain if I hadn’t?”
    “Probably.”
    “Probably” wasn’t good enough, but she was too unsteady and shaken for him to press the point. He made her drink a cup of coffee and eat a piece of toast, and when she protested about him driving her to work, he ignored her and coaxed her into his car. The rush-hour traffic into Boston reminded him why he’d retreated to an uninhabited island to recuperate. Lots of stimuli out here on the city streets. Cars, lights, horns, traffic helicopters, blaring radios, construction.
    Riley sat beside him, hugging her overstuffed leather tote on her lap so hard her knuckles turned white.
    “Remember to breathe,” he said.
    “I am breathing.”
    “Not from here.” He poked her breastbone. “From here.” He poked her low on her diaphragm. He could feel smooth, cool skin under her creamy blouse. More stimuli. “Slow, deep breaths. How well did you know Sam Cassain?”
    “He was the Encounter ’s captain for seven years. He was tough, no-nonsense and not one to suffer fools gladly.”
    “Who hired him?”
    “Emile did. His last captain had died of cancer. He was a scientist, too, and when he