Single Mom’s Firemen: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)

Charlie Drucker welcomes us into his office one morning with a huge grin on his face.

“How’s Halle holding up?” he asks as Eric and I take a seat on the guest sofa.

“She’s holding up,” I tell Charlie. “As well as she can.”

“She’s ready to bolt,” Eric grumbles. “Whether we like to admit it or not.”

Charlie lets a heavy sigh roll from his chest. “Then you’d better not share any of the information that I’m about to give you with her.”

“What’s going on?” Eric asks, his brow furrowed.

We just got off a twenty-four-hour shift, and we’re beyond exhausted.

“We’ve got reason to believe that the warehouse fire was arson,” Charlie says. “We’ve identified the same type of accelerant that was found at the diner.”

“You’re kidding,” I gasp, instantly connecting the dots.

“They filled the canisters at the same station, at least,” Charlie continues. “What are the odds that it was a coincidence, given that they had people dressed up as firefighters, ready to greet you once you came in?”

The realization sinks my stomach into the floor. It’s hard for me to breathe as I remember the carnage and the tragedy that ensued in that place. We worked our asses off to save as many employees as possible, but sadly, the death toll jumped past one hundred in the end. It was a fucking nightmare and a tragedy that never had to happen.

“Charlie, hold up,” I say, trying to keep myself anchored somehow. “Are you saying that Colby Nash started the warehouse fire?”

“It would make sense,” Charlie replies. “Either he did it or one of his associates. He’s clearly not doing any of this alone. He’s got people covering for him, helping him hide, doing his dirty work.”

“Figures, he’s mama’s little boy,” Eric scoffs. “He killed a lot of people with that warehouse fire, man.”

“I don’t think that was the plan though,” Charlie says. “I think the warehouse itself was severely problematic in terms of fire safety, and Nash simply didn’t know it would go up in flames the way it did. That it would escalate to that point.”

I shake my head slowly. “It still sounds astonishingly half-assed.”

“Does Colby Nash strike you as some kind of criminal mastermind?” Charlie chuckles dryly. “The man has cash to burn and a narcissistic character to soothe. His guys don’t give a shit as long as they get paid, and his mother is working overtime to mitigate the PR nightmare. Frankly, she doesn’t stand a chance, but all we can do is watch her flail until she takes the wrong step. She’s going to make a mistake soon enough.”

“We need Colby to make a mistake,” Eric snaps. “He’s responsible for so many deaths. Charlie, you weren’t inside with us. You didn’t see what we saw.”

Charlie gives us a hard, saddened look. “No, but I’ve been poring over crime scene photos for the past couple of days. I saw the damage it did. There’s no unseeing any of it.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “My captain has agreed to put a task force together. Arson is gonna run point, mind you, but the Feds and the ATF are getting involved too. It’s too big for us.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means that all hell is about to break loose for Colby Nash. There won’t be a safe place for him to hide, not in Dallas, anyway,” Charlie replies. “The Texas Rangers are also gunning for him and his Mama hard. They have quite the history.”

“But what does that mean for Halle?” Eric says, following the thread as closely as possible.

“Colby might feel like he’s running out of time. Which means he might get desperate. He’s clearly obsessed with Halle, with hurting her. She’s the only one who can draw him out. All she has to do is go somewhere close by, unattended. We’re confident he constantly has eyes on her.”

Eric bangs his fist against Charlie’s desk. The whole thing shakes, and the thud echoes out into the bullpen. I glance back through the clear windows to see the whole Arson Squad staring at us with a mixture of concern and curiosity until Charlie waves their concerns away.

“You’re not using Halle as bait,” Eric declares. “Not in a million fucking years.”

An awkward silence falls over the room. Judging by Charlie’s fleeting glances, he knows he pushed the wrong buttons. I can’t blame him for trying, but I do agree with Eric on this.

“Alright, let’s think about it this way,” I say, trying to appease both sides. I can tell Charlie still wants to use Halle against Colby, one way or another. We might as well do it in a manner that doesn’t put her in additional danger. We’re barely able to protect her as it is, given the reach and the determination of our enemy. “The diner and the warehouse. Both fires were set with the same accelerant and you said the gas was bought from the same station, right?”

“Right,” Charlie confirms.

“Assuming that Nash is behind both fires, we’re dealing with a pattern,” I reply. “He’s probably done this before. Elsewhere. To other people. Other businesses or homes.”

“His record did show some larceny and arson charges but none of them stuck,” Charlie sighs. “Worth revisiting, however.”

“And worth talking to any of the survivors,” I add. “If Nash had a bone to pick with them, then we can definitely fine line this pattern beyond a reasonable doubt for any jury.”

Charlie goes through his phone, where he keeps copies of every single active case file. I know he has a folder dedicated to the Nash crime family, specifically. He tends to obsess—especially when a pattern emerges—and there is no denying that we are, in fact, dealing with a pattern. “I wonder if Halle ever noticed Colby’s propensity for fire,” he says. “You might want to ask her.”

“I don’t want her involved in this any more than she needs to be,” Eric shoots back.

“It’s better than using her as any kind of bait,” I patiently remind him. “All we have to do is talk to her. Run through any memory that may yield more intel into Colby’s mind and way of doing things.”

“These definitely weren’t his first fires,” Charlie concludes, then shows us a file on his phone. “From ten years back. A high-rise in northern Dallas, owned by one of his business competitors. The whole thing burned down.” He pauses and flips over to another file. “And this, an Indian deli. The owner said they refused to pay the Nash’s their protection tax. The next day, the place burned down.”

“Can we link it to Colby specifically?” I ask.

He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Only if we can get some witness testimony.”

“Halle,” I sigh deeply, then give Eric a long look. “We have to talk to her, you know that.”

“I just hate making her go through those nightmares again,” he groans, running a hand through his hair. I get it. I completely understand, and I hate it as much as he does. But there’s no other way. “Fine,” he finally concedes. “We’ll talk to her and see what we can dig up.”

“There’s a criminal profile we’re working on here,” Charlie says. “The more information we get, the clearer the picture will be, and the easier it’ll make it for us to get one step ahead of Colby Nash. Right now, he’s got an advantage and people backing him, albeit in exchange for copious amounts of money.”

Eric thinks about it for a moment, his gaze never leaving me. “If Colby is a serial arsonist, it’s worth digging as far back as his teenage years.”

“The juvie records would be sealed,” I point out.

“Yes, but I might be able to at least get confirmation that they exist,” Charlie chimes in with newfound enthusiasm.

“How do we go about getting a juvie record unsealed?” I ask. “If he doesn’t have any arson-related priors, it wouldn’t be enough to build a reasonable connection here.”

Upon my question, Charlie begins texting back and forth with someone who I assume is the Assistant DA, judging by the way he nods and grunts whenever a new message comes in.

“Halle’s testimony might be enough for a warrant,” Charlie says. “Emphasis on might.”

“Alright then, that’s what we’re going to do next,” I declare, getting up from the sofa and stretching my arms out. “We talk to Halle.”

“That’ll be a fucking joyride,” Eric replies sarcastically.

It will be uncomfortable. We’ve done our best to keep history talk to a minimum and only when it pertained to the arson investigations. But we never had to dig this deep since there wasn’t even the faintest suspicion that Colby might’ve started the warehouse fire. That accelerant signature changes everything—including our perception of the guy.

Not only is he an unstable, narcissistic psychopath of an ex-husband but he may also be a deadly serial arsonist with absolutely nothing left to lose. The stakes are now higher than ever. Our reaction must match this new set of parameters, otherwise it’ll get us all killed. So if we have to have an uncomfortable conversation with the woman we love and swore to protect, then we’ll do it.