Her Protector

by R. S. Lively

  I take a deep breath and head for the exit, Alice clutching tightly to me. “I’m sorry,” she keeps muttering under her breath, tears streaming down her face.

  “Shhhh,” I respond. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

  As I step into the cool evening air, the sound of approaching sirens fills our ears.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dean

  "You can't tell me this is a coincidence, Dean." Alice sounds on the brink of falling apart. "Over the last three days the electricity has gone out twice with no explanation, two pipes burst, and the front doors were tagged. Not even well."

  "Other than the tagging, those are all things that can happen during renovations."

  "They didn't have anything to do with the renovations. And what about this? Tell me you think this has anything to do with the renovations."

  The fire started in the alley behind the theater, but it was close enough smoke and embers to fill the ventilation system, severely damaging a lot of the old plumbing, A/C, and electrical systems. An acrid smell still clings to the air from the water extinguishing the flames and mixing with ashes to create black sludge that now trickles across the ground. The police and firefighters have left, but Alice refuses to go inside, even after a few hours have passed. It's like she doesn't want to face the possibility of there being anything else that could go wrong. As much as I'm trying to comfort and reassure her, a nagging suspicion in the back of my head is making it impossible for me to really feel at ease.

  After looking at the fire, the police and firefighters said it looked like the blaze was purposely started. Considering it was outside in a rarely-used alley, it seemed like a fairly straightforward conclusion. The more I think about it, the less my brain will let me link it to some random person tossing a cigarette or even lighting it just for fun to see what may happen. It's hard to keep it separated from the other things that have gone wrong in Wonderland over the last few days, which I can't help but realize corresponds with the message Alice got from ‘Q’.

  From the break-in and vandalism, to the strange system failures, and now a fire, the incidents are building up around Wonderland and it is becoming more difficult not to relate them to each other.

  "We were inside, Dean," she repeats for the umpteenth time over the last few hours. "We were in the building when this fire happened. Regardless of how it started or why, I was right inside there, and I had no idea. If you hadn’t been there to – to rescue me…" She shakes her head, not finishing the sentence. "It was moving fast and could have climbed the walls. One of the officers said it could have gotten into the stage and nearly burned the whole place down. There's no telling just how much destruction could have happened before we realized there was a fire."

  “But that didn’t happen. We’re okay. You’re safe.”

  “Sorry I froze up,” she says. “Thank you for saving me.”

  “Don’t mention it. I did what I had to do,” I insist.

  A moment passes between us in silence, and I try to change the subject. “Sure, it’s a setback, but we still have plenty of time to prep for Luella’s big night.”

  "Yes. Lee was meeting with a few vendors we're considering using for Luella's opening performance, so I was just answering emails before all this."

  My jaw twitches.

  "Any from Q?"

  She swallows and nods.

  "One."

  "Let me see it."

  Alice pulls up the message and hands the phone to me. Reading the words makes a shock of anger go down my spine and red dance in front of my eyes. I forward the message to myself the way I did with the others, and hand it back to her. Just as she takes it, Lee runs around the building toward us.

  "What's going on?" he asks.

  "There was a fire," Alice tells him. "We are okay. But there’s some pretty bad damage."

  "Are you alright?"

  He hugs her tightly.

  "We were inside, but we’re fine. Someone was walking down the alley and saw the fire, so they called the fire department before we even smelled it."

  "You were inside?"

  Alice nods. Lee hugs her again, and then he looks at me. “Did you protect her? So help me if you just ran out of here screaming like a little girl…” he trails off, somewhere between a joke and a threat.

  Alice laughs for the first time in hours. The tension we are all holding slowly starts to dissipate. “Dean saved my life,” she tells him.

  “Well, I guess you’re good for something. Who's the suspect?"

  Alice shrugs.

  "I don't know. When the police and fire departments got here, whoever it was had already left."

  "I can't believe someone would do that. How horrible do you have to be to try to burn down an old theater?" Lee laments.

  "I don’t know, Lee, but there's nothing we can really do about it now."

  "Lee, we’ve been out here all night. I have an important meeting I have to go to,” I say. “I'm sure everything is fine around here, but Alice is a little shaken up. Would you keep her company?"

  "Of course." He glances at Alice. "There's a lot I want to tell you about the preparations."

  "Maybe the two of you can go to the coffee shop."

  "No," Alice says.

  She sounds surprisingly forceful.

  "No?"

  "I'm not going to get driven out of my theater. Not yet, anyway."

  "You won't at all," I tell her. "I'll call you later."

  I kiss her and stalk down the alley toward my car. My patience has run out. I didn't want to say anything. I wanted to let the situation work out without interfering any more than I already have. But this isn't some legal statement. This isn't a nasty email. If this has anything to do with Micah, he has crossed a very serious line and I am going to drag him right back over it tonight.

  Micah often works late so I came to the building instead of his home. The elevator would be too slow for me right now. I can't stand around and wait for it to get me to the next floor. I need to keep moving, so I bypass the bank of elevators and instead go through the door at the back corner of the lobby that leads to the stairs. My feet barely touch them as I run up two at a time. Micah's voice is audible in the hallway through the few inches his door is standing open, but I don't bother to hesitate. Pushing the door, the rest of the way open, I slam it behind me as I step inside. Micah's chair whips around to face me, and some of the color drains from his cheeks.

  "I'm going to have to call you back." He sets the phone down and tilts his head at me. "Hey, Dean. I wasn't expecting to see you tonight. What’s going on?"

  "Cut the shit, Micah. I own this damn company and can go wherever, whenever I want to."

  "That's true."

  "It also means when I say something, I expect it be done. The first time. It doesn't mean what I say is a suggestion or a gentle form of guidance. When I make a decision, that decision is final, and it is to be respected. Do I make myself extraordinarily clear?"

  "I'm not sure I'm following you."

  "I told you to back off when it came to the Goldberg theater acquisition. The fact that you initiated the purchase against my consent at all is already a serious issue that, I assure you, I will deal with at another time. For right now, I want to know why you don't think you need to pay attention to me, when I direct what you do for my company."

  "Dean, I already apologized for starting that contract without your permission. I still stand behind my assertion it was a good idea at the time and continues to be, but I understand you didn't want to make that move and I have learned from it. As for not following what you said about me backing off... I don't know what you're talking about. I sent the owner a reminder letter more than a month ago and we corresponded a few times over email, but that's it."

  "That's it?" I demand. I wrench the phone out of my pocket and pull up the thread of email messages I forwarded to myself from Alice’s phone. "You think this is an appropriate way to interact with a client?"

&nbs
p; I sling the phone onto the desk so he can read the messages.

  "These aren't the messages I sent," he frowns.

  "Don't lie to me. You have a lot of balls trying to sabotage the theater and push her away, and you better never step foot near it again. She was inside today; did you know that?"

  "Dean, these aren't the messages I sent. Look at the address. That's not my email address. It's close to it, but it's not mine. And what's with the 'Q'? My name doesn't have a Q in it. I don't know anyone's who does."

  "This message was sent this morning, and another one was sent a few days ago right before there was a break-in at the theater."

  "A break-in? I didn't hear anything about it on the news. How do you know what's going on at the theater?"

  "What I do is none of your business. Remember, you made the stupid decision to enter this contract so you could acquire the theater on behalf of my company, not for yourself. I can do whatever I want to with a piece of property I have that much invested in."

  "Wait. You said a few days ago. I just got back from vacation. Don't you remember? I told you my sister was getting married and I was going to be out of town through yesterday. Whatever happened at the theater, I couldn't have anything to do with it." He slides the phone back in my direction. "And I didn't send those messages."

  His facial expression doesn't immediately give off suspicious clues, but I don't trust him. I shove the phone back in my pocket.

  "Tread lightly, Micah."

  I walk out of his office and back down to Jonathan.

  "Something wrong?" my assistant asks when I walk up to his desk.

  "Was Micah out of town?"

  "Yeah," Jonathan answers without hesitation. "Just for a few days, but he was up in some mountains somewhere at a wedding. Didn't even have enough phone reception to take a phone call from a client. I had to try to work with his assistant to answer all the client's questions."

  "Does his assistant have access to Micah's personal computer? His emails, contact information? Contracts? Anything like that?"

  "No," Jonathan says. "You know Micah. He's really weird about stuff like that. Essentially his assistant is good for things like getting coffee, making phone calls, and running errands. But he was able to give me enough insight into the buying process that I could ease the client's mind until Micah actually got back."

  I nod.

  "Alright. Thanks. I've got to go. If anyone calls for me, send them to Preston or Grant."

  "Will do."

  I can still see the office in my rearview mirror when the phone rings. It’s Seth.

  "Hello?"

  "Does Jell-O gel if you don't add hot water to it?"

  "Seth?"

  "If I was to pour a bunch of Jell-O into a lot of water, but that water was cold, would it still eventually set up, or is there something about the gelling process that requires the heat?"

  "Don't try to Jell-O the bay!"

  "Not the bay."

  "Good."

  "The pool at the hotel."

  A sudden thought goes through my mind.

  "I'll be home tomorrow. Don't Jell-O anything until I get there."

  I hang up and immediately the phone rings again. I answer without even looking at the screen.

  "No gelling!"

  "I wasn't planning on gelling anything, but it's good to know you have such a passion for hair care products."

  "I'm sorry, Alice. I was just on the phone with my brother."

  "Oh. I still don't know what you were talking about, but I probably don't want to. It turns out, I am being driven from my theater after all."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Fixing the pool, combined with repairing all the fire damage, is going to take some reworking of the plumbing that is more extensive than we thought. Shannon said it would probably be better if I just closed the theater for a couple days so they can do the major work. Once that's done, it's just a matter of finishing up smaller projects and finishing the restoration work."

  "That must make you happy."

  "It does, but it's also frustrating to not be there and to feel like all of this is for no reason, anyway."

  "What do you mean?"

  "My luck hasn't exactly been the best recently. In a few weeks this might all just be a bunch of work for someone else to own my theater."

  "I'm on my way to your place. Start packing a bag. I know something that just might change your luck."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Alice

  A few days later…

  A St. Patrick's Day festival was not the first thing that popped into my mind when Dean said he has something that may change my luck. But since the festival means spending more time with Dean and getting out of New York so I don't continue to wander to the theater every day and press myself to the glass doors to watch the renovations, I'm willing to go with it. The fact that it means seeing his hometown and meeting his family might play into the interest level as well.

  It's not like I've had a lot of time to sit around and think about it. I hadn’t actually had time to pack at all, just dealing with the aftermath of the fire. By the time Lee and I had made a detour through his favorite cafe to pick up lunch to bring back to my apartment, and got to the door, Dean was coming up the sidewalk toward us, asking if I was ready to go. Packing was a study in chewing and folding without getting crumbs in my suitcase and accepting sips of soup from the spoon Lee held out to me, while I was scooping makeup and toiletries into my bag. I could probably have stopped and actually eaten, but Dean's enthusiasm sparked a sense of urgency in me until I felt like a reality show contestant being whisked away on some adventure.

  I only hope there's no obstacle course or slime involved.

  I don't know why those are things on my mind as we pull up to a ferry dock in yet another sleek black car that was waiting for Dean when our airplane landed. It was just sitting there in a private area of the parking lot, not attended by anyone. It made me wonder how many other airport parking lots scattered throughout the country currently contain vehicles owned by the Laurence brothers, just sitting patiently until they'll be needed. That is a Google Earth scavenger hunt just waiting to happen.

  "Magnolia Falls is an island?" I ask.

  "I didn't mention that?"

  "No."

  "Well, it's not tropical. There are a few palm trees scattered around, but for the most part those are in pots in front of people's houses."

  I don't really care if it's tropical. The temperature here is soaring compared to New York, and even though the woman already standing on the deck of the ferry is wearing a cardigan pulled tightly around her, the difference in temperature is enough to make me want to strip down to a bathing suit and spend the afternoon in a hammock. The breeze picks up outside, and I reconsider the bathing suit.

  "Tell me again about this festival."

  "Magnolia Falls is serious about festivals. The people here take any excuse available to throw a party, and that includes holidays and even just seasons. Any opportunity is a good opportunity to take to the marina and spend time with the community. There's always music and food by different people who live here, and plenty of things to do like games and exhibits. The committees who plan them seem to be in an ongoing competition for the very best in small-town festivals. Considering there is no one for them to compete with, the competition is pretty one-sided. But that doesn't stop them from creating some spectacular things. Last Halloween, Grant's wife Emma, her best friend Judy, and I turned all the buildings near the marina into a haunted town, but there was a secret passage that led to the next street where it was playful and full of candy. The winter festival has an amazing Christmas tree maze. That maze is partially why my twin Preston is married. He'll probably just grumble at you if you ask him about it but ask his wife Victoria. She'll tell you the story. Incidentally, when you meet Victoria, don't mention your chocolate cheesecake."

  "Why not?"

  "Victoria owns a gourmet food shop in the village and I have
been known to essentially live off her chocolate cheesecake during my visits."

  "So, what you're telling me is you had a clandestine fling with my dessert and now you don't want anyone to know. That feels kind of dirty."

  Dean slides me a devilish look, and I have to divert the conversation before our ferry ride results in me being banned from the island before I even get onto it.

  "Does your family know I'm coming?" I ask.

  "They do," he says. "My mother is excited to meet you. Of course, my mother is excited to meet anyone in any circumstances. She might very well be the friendliest and most hospitable person who has ever existed."

  "Perfect. What did you tell them about me?"

  I hope I don't sound like I'm fishing to hear him gush about his feelings for me. That is absolutely what I'm doing, but I don't want it to be that obvious. The subtle fisher is the one who brings home the haul.

  In theory. I've never fished. I won't even touch fishsticks.

  "...but you'll get used to it."

  "Wait, what? What will I get used to?"

  "Are you not paying attention?"

  "I'm sorry. My mind was somewhere else."

  "Worrying about the theater?"

  "Thinking about fish."

  Dean laughs.

  "Well, as you can see, there's plenty of water around here. We can probably find some time while we're here to do a little fishing."

  Oh, fantastic.

  "What were you saying about me getting used to something?"

  "It was nothing. My brothers will all be here for the festival, and of course their wives and my niece and nephew. You'll meet my parents. Then there's the rest of Magnolia Falls."

  "Why does that sound ominous?"

  He chuckles.

  "Not ominous. Just a fair warning. It's a small community and the locals are sometimes fascinated by anyone coming from the mainland. There are tourists, of course, and extended family. Even people who sometimes come trying to strike up businesses. That never works out well for them. If a local brings home an outsider, though, that's a whole thing. A gorgeous blue-eyed redhead like you coming here for St. Patrick's Day?" He grins as he strokes the side of my face. "You might just be the main attraction of the festival."