Fight Fire with Fire

  FIGHT FIRE WITH FIRE

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal

  To Bari Paige Rosenow

  Lila ran her fingers gently over the page as if she were caressing Steven's face. But as she read on, the smile disappeared from her lips. The sweet, romantic words had changed, and she didn't like what they said.

  I can just imagine our future. We'll have a simple wedding in my parents' backyard. There'll be family and a few friends—only the people we care about the most. And we can have a cookout and pool party after the ceremony.

  Then, after spending our honeymoon kayaking and camping in the mountains, we'll settle down in a modest house with a porch swing and a white picket fence. It will have a few extra bedrooms, of course, for all the little Wakefields we'll have running around. The girls will have your beauty, and the boys will have my intelligence.

  Life will be one big family barbecue. And with my beautiful wife by my side—with you by my side, Lila—I know I'll be successful in the D.A.'s office. The pay will be next to nothing, but it will be enough to support us, although we'll have to give up certain comforts. . . .

  Lila threw the letter back on the shelf and slammed her locker shut. If that's what Steven has in mind for the future, he obviously has no idea who he's dealing with.

  Visit the Official Sweet Valley Web Site on the Internet at:

  http://www.sweetvalley.com

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 1

  I can't believe this is happening to me, Lila Fowler thought, struggling to hold hack a threatening flood of tears. She closed her deep brown eyes and prayed the events of the last hour were just parts of a bad dream. But the cold metal of the handcuffs clamped firmly around her wrists reminded her that the nightmare was all too real. She had been arrested and charged with arson.

  As she was led into the police station and past the desk Lila kept her shoulders hunched and her head down, letting her long brown hair shield her face. She was painfully aware of the eyes that turned to stare as she walked by in her pale green satin dinner dress. Every so often she raised her hands to her neck nervously, intending to tug at the gold necklace she had purchased that afternoon. But the necklace was gone, along with her new emerald earrings. An officer had taken them from her and tossed them carelessly into a brown paper envelope.

  I wish I could roll myself into a ball and disappear, she thought. Then they couldn't stare at me with their accusing eyes.

  Her arresting officer, a tall, burly man with close-cropped brown hair, led her to a desk piled high with papers. Behind it sat a balding man in a short-sleeved polyester shirt. In spite of his pocket protector there were two ink stains seeping through the fabric.

  Lila felt one corner of her mouth curling into a sneer as she looked at the smeared blue blotches. As soon as she realized what she was doing she wiped the grimace from her face. These officers thought she was a criminal. Who knew what they might do to her if she showed her contempt?

  Gingerly Lila perched on the edge of a maroon vinyl-covered chair. The man barely looked at her as he started demanding information. In a monotonous voice Lila told him her name, date of birth, eye color, hair color, weight, and social security number while he scribbled furiously on a form. Then he asked her a question that turned her stomach.

  "Have you ever been arrested before?"

  Lila felt as if she'd been punched in the gut. Her mouth dropped open. "What?" she gasped.

  The man stared at her and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. His beady, ratlike eyes were watery and rimmed in red. When he spoke, he pronounced each word with exaggerated clarity, as if he were talking to someone who wasn't too bright.

  "I—meant—have—you—ever—been—charged—with—a—crime . . . miss?"

  "Certainly not!" Lila said indignantly. She jumped to her feet.

  A corner of the man's mouth twisted into a smirk. "Don't get huffy, lady," he said. Then his expression turned to stone. His gray eyes bored into Lila's.

  "Sit!" he snapped in a tone one would use to command a naughty dog. Lila felt color flame into her face as she did as she was told.

  The man clasped his hands together on the desk. "This is a routine question, and I would appreciate it if you would simply answer it."

  Lila drew in a shaky breath. "The answer is no," she said quietly. The man made a quick note on his form.

  "We're through here," he said. He nodded to an officer, who took Lila by the shoulder and pulled her out of her seat.

  What next? she whimpered internally.

  Her latest captor had huge sweat stains on his uniform underneath his arms. Lila swallowed hard, choking back the urge to be sick.

  Without a word the officer grabbed her hands and pressed her fingers one by one against an ink pad and then onto a fingerprint card. Lila nearly squealed in pain each time he mashed another delicate fingertip against the white cardboard. I guess this is what they call police brutality, she thought.

  Then came the pictures.

  "Hold these numbers in front of you. Face forward . . . turn right . . . turn left." Lila Fowler was accustomed to giving orders, not taking them. From the moment she could talk, servants had scurried to fulfill her demands. Now she was the one being told what to do. And she wasn't even being treated in a civilized manner. She was being treated like a common criminal.

  When Lila had officially been booked, a female officer with frizzy red hair guided her toward the holding cell.

  "Let's go," the officer said wearily. She grabbed Lila as if she were a piece of meat at the supermarket. Lila thought the lack of expression in the woman's eyes was almost more frightening than anger would have been. Her legs felt rubbery as she passed by a cell full of huge, raucous women. One prisoner pulled up a tattered sleeve to show Lila a tattoo depicting a knife with blood dripping from the blade. Lila's eyes widened in horror as the woman laughed and blew her a kiss.

  "Can't you tell I don't belong here?" Lila whimpered. The officer ignored her and kept a tight grip on Lila's arm, pulling her along. As they turned a corner Lila stumbled. She had barely caught herself when the woman gave her a shove.

  Lila stiffly walked a few more paces. Then the officer stopped in front of a dark, deserted cell.

  The sound of keys rattling in the lock made Lila's heart pound. She broke out in a sweat all over her body as her breath came in short spasmatic bursts.

  The officer leaned forward and unlocked Lila's handcuffs. Lila looked at the compact woman in disbelief. Was she letting her go?

  "Step inside, miss," the officer instructed her.

  Lila's heart dropped. For a moment she felt as if her whole body was frozen. I can't go in there. Don't make me go in there, a voice in her head pleaded silently. She was sure if she tried to take a step, she would faint.

  "Step inside, miss," the officer repeated, a little louder and more firmly this time.

  Somehow Lila dragged herself forward into the cell. She heard the clang of the door shutting and the keys rattling again, this time locking her inside. She whirled around to face the metal bars and saw the officer walking away.

  "Wait!" Lila cried urgently. She rushed to the black bars and grabbed them with both hands. She yanked at them desperately, as if she could somehow pull them apart.

  The officer turned. "What is it?"

  Lila lifted her hands to the sides of her face. "You can't leave me here. I'm not a criminal!" she wailed.

  The officer gazed back at her blankly. "I can't help you, miss. I'm just doing my job," she droned. Then she paused for a moment, her face softening slightly. "The best thing you can do is calm down and wait for the person you phoned to come and post bail. That's my advice. If you haven't done anything wrong, everything will be OK."

  Then the officer was gone. As Lila looked after her a choking sob rose in her throat. She threw herself onto a rickety bunk and cradled her head in her hands.

  The tears she had held back flowed freely now until her face was bathed in them. She thought she would never be able to stop crying again.

  The idea that she had been arrested and charged with firebombing the Palomar House restaurant had thrown her into a state of disbelief and confusion. She curled up like a baby, bringing her knees to her chin.

  How did those blasting caps and traces of fuel oil get into my car? she asked herself wildly. She had told the police she had never seen the junk before, but they'd acted as if they hadn't even heard her. Why wouldn't they believe me? She turned the question over again and again in her mind. How could anyone think that she, Lila Fowler, would even know how to build a bomb?

  Lila wept silently as a feeling of total helplessness overcame her. Then, mercifully, she slept.

  Jessica Wakefield and her twin sister, Elizabeth, glanced up at Adele, the District Attorneys receptionist. The middle-aged woman was usually full of cheery comments no matter how busy she was, but today she was eerily silent.

  "I'm sure your brother will be ready to meet you for lunch soon," Adele said, running a hand over her silver-streaked, dark brown hair. She looked a
way and tapped her pen on the desk, seeming uncomfortable. "He and the D.A. are just having a little . . . discussion." She pursed her lips tightly and glanced at her watch.

  "Oh! Look at the time!" Adele exclaimed, jumping up. "Well, I have some errands to run. So little time to get everything done on the lunch hour, you know." She grabbed her purse, nodded to Jessica and Elizabeth, and pushed through the office door. The sound of her high heels echoed in the hallway

  Jessica frowned as she turned to her sister. "Jeez. What's her deal?"

  Elizabeth's eyes were clouded with concern. "She seemed preoccupied—like something was bothering her."

  "Yeah, well, she couldn't wait to get away from us," Jessica observed. "She was acting like we had cooties or bad hair or something."

  Elizabeth smiled slightly. "Maybe it's just the workload," she said. "They've been working Steven to death."

  "No kidding," Jessica muttered, rolling her eyes. "He spends so much time at this stupid office, you can hardly even tell he moved home."

  Jessica was acting grumpy because she hated being made to wait, but she was actually excited that she and Elizabeth were meeting their brother for lunch. He was a prelaw student at Sweet Valley University and had a summer internship in the D.A.'s office. It was a great opportunity for him, but ever since he started, he had been swamped with the Fowler Crest arson case.

  The cluttered office was a buzz of activity as usual. Interns and attorneys bustled to and fro between the cubicles, carrying files. Others sat hunched over computer keyboards or talked on the telephone.

  As the minutes ticked by, the activity began to die down. The office staff started thinning out as everyone hurried to grab a quick lunch.

  Jessica tapped her foot impatiently and tossed her long golden hair. "Come on, Steven, hurry up," she whispered, smoothing the hem of her trendy bright blue dress.

  Jessica glanced at Elizabeth, who was drumming her fingers on the arm of the bench. For the umpteenth time Jessica wished she had tried to talk her sister into wearing something a little more hip than that plain navy blue dress with the little Peter Pan collar. Jessica bit her lip. I should know better by now, she thought. Besides, if Liz wants to scare away any hot young lawyers who may be wandering around, that'll just leave more for me.

  Though the girls were identical twins, with the same silky blond hair, gorgeous blue-green eyes, and slender, athletic figures, they were also as different as two girls could be.

  Jessica followed fashion closely and dressed in vibrant colors that reflected her live-for-the moment attitude and love of adventure. For her fun meant being cocaptain of Sweet Valley High's cheerleading squad, and she adored gossiping, shopping, and checking out guys. She firmly believed that once she got interested in someone, it was only a matter of time before she had him wrapped around her finger.

  But Elizabeth's idea of fun was Jessica's idea of boring. Elizabeth loved reading, writing, and watching old movies with a few close friends. After school she worked at the Oracle, Sweet Valley High's newspaper, and hoped to become a professional writer someday. Her clothing tended toward wash-and-wear in muted tones and pastel colors.

  Another important part of Elizabeth's life was her boyfriend, Todd Wilkins. Jessica thought Todd was more bland and tiresome than a biology film on the life of an amoeba. But with his tall build, broad shoulders, and deep brown eyes, even Jessica had to admit he was gorgeous. But not half as gorgeous as that guy, Jessica thought, admiring a blond, well-dressed intern who winked at her as he passed by.

  Suddenly the door to the inner office opened and Jessica smiled brightly. She tapped her sister on the arm.

  "Maybe that's Steven," she said excitedly. Then her face fell as the sound of angry voices filled the air.

  She recognized Steven's strong, clear voice, now filled with notes of strain and tension. The other voice, with it's low, gravelly tones, must belong to the D.A., she decided.

  "Listen, Steven, I've told you again and again not to get personally involved with Lila Fowler. You were supposed to be investigating her, not starting a romance. This is the last straw."

  Jessica heard the sound of papers being tossed on the desk. Then the D.A. continued. "If you post bail for her, you're finished here. You'll get no recommendation from me. In fact, if it were up to me, you'd be barred from studying to be a lawyer. As far as I'm concerned, you just don't have what it takes."

  Jessica felt her jaw drop. She looked at Elizabeth and saw her sister's eyes widen with surprise.

  "I had no idea it had gone this far," Jessica whispered. "I didn't know they had actually arrested her." She crept closer to the D.A.'s office and waved her hand, motioning for Elizabeth to follow.

  Through the glass panel on the partially open door Jessica saw the D.A., Joe Garrison, shaking his finger in her brother's face. The small, tough-looking man was clearly exasperated. He ran a hand over his short, dark curly hair.

  "I'm telling you, Wakefield," he said. "I'm just about at the end of my rope."

  Then Steven spoke, his tone respectful but his voice quaking with determination.

  "I'm sorry you feel that way, sir," Steven began. "This internship means a lot to me. But I believe that being a good lawyer means standing up for your convictions, and I believe that Lila Fowler is innocent."

  Steven's words rocked through Jessica. She knew how much the internship meant to him, and she felt a rush of pride that he would risk losing his job by standing up to the imposing D.A. She held her breath as she saw Garrison's face flush and a vein begin throbbing in his temple.

  "She is the primary suspect," the D.A. said through clenched teeth. "Every bit of evidence points in her direction."

  "It's all circumstantial," Steven said. "And if you'll just listen to me . . ."

  "Don't you order me around, Wakefield!" Garrison bellowed. Jessica jumped slightly and saw Steven do the same. The D.A. took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm warning you, Steven, you're going to ruin your career as a lawyer before it has even begun." He shook his head, then looked Steven in the eye. "You will not bail the Fowler girl out of jail, and you will stop this silly infatuation once and for all," Garrison said evenly.

  "And if I do bail her out?" Steven said, meeting the D.A.'s gaze.

  "Then don't bother coming back here," Garrison replied.

  Jessica gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She glanced at Elizabeth, and her twin shot her a worried look. Suddenly Steven came charging through the door. His face was flushed, and his mouth was pressed in a thin line of determination. He did a double take when he saw Jessica and Elizabeth.

  "Well, I see you've been eavesdropping, so you heard everything," he said. In a single, furious motion he loosened his tie, tore it off, and stuffed it in his pocket. "I'm going to post bail for Lila, and I don't want either of you to by to stop me." There was a cold glint in his eyes.

  "Steven, calm down," Elizabeth said in a hushed voice. He ignored her. Then he got right in Jessica's face.

  "You should have stood by her," he said angrily. "You were her best friend."

  "B-But I did stand by her, Steven," Jessica sputtered. "I did everything I could to cheer her out of her depression after the fire."

  "Yeah, right," Steven spat. "You're not even talking to her. How is that gonna cheer her up?"

  Jessica pulled back as if she had been slapped. Steven hardly ever spoke sharply. She saw that Elizabeth's face had gone pale.

  Jessica took a deep breath, drew herself up straighter, and put both hands on her hips. "Listen, Steven, I just couldn't stand by and let her steal my brother. You two are all wrong for each other, but you just can't see that. It's like she has some kind of spell on you." Suddenly she noticed the D.A. was watching them from the doorway and she clapped her hand over her mouth again. Jessica's heart sank as she realized she had just confirmed all of the D.A.'s suspicions.

  "I—I'm sorry, Steven," Jessica stammered.

  Steven looked at the D.A. and then back at Jessica. An expression of disgust twisted his features. "It doesn't matter what either of you think," Steven said. "I am not going to desert Lila just when she needs me most. I'm not you, Jessica."

  Jessica gasped and stared at Steven in disbelief. Why was he being so mean to her? She opened her mouth to reply, but her brother simply pushed past her and stormed out of the office, leaving his sisters in stunned silence.