by AC Arthur
“They’re still at the clubhouse.”
“Yeah. Let’s go out and treat the family to a lovely lunch and not think about that for a while.” He knew that was going to be easier said than done, but Roark had to try.
He wanted to try. These fires, the killing, it was all taking a toll on him. Every day he was away from the office, he was playing catch-up. His assistant was great and she was attempting to stay on top of things, but Roark knew it was difficult because he wasn’t there.
Putting himself aside, he could see Aunt Birdie was stressed, because she was more irritable than normal. Sandra had moments where she’d cry silently, and Roark knew she was thinking about the secret she and her friends had kept and all that it had led to. Suri seemed to be dealing the best, remaining her upbeat self as she attended to not only Aunt Birdie, but the other two elderly women as well.
So yes, he wanted to treat them all to lunch, to give them a glimpse of normalcy if just for a little while.
Two hours later, after they’d returned to the clubhouse, Roark was in the library checking, as he’d already done with each room in the house, to make sure the police hadn’t left anything out of place. Of course, they hadn’t found anything to prove he was involved with the fires or the explosion, and Burrows had contacted the chief of the department at the MPD to let him know the detectives’ behavior was dangerously close to harassment, which would not be tolerated in the future.
Roark hadn’t found anything out of place yet, but he was certain that was because Geoff, Lily and Dorianne had been here and had probably put everything back in place before their return. As far as staff went, those three were the best, and once this was over and they were ready to leave, Roark would have to think of a way to repay them for how helpful and attentive they’d each been in the past weeks.
“You’re sleeping with that girl.”
He turned at the sound of Aunt Birdie’s voice and fought back a frown when he saw her entering the library and going over to take a seat on one of the burgundy leather couches in the center of the room. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t try to lie to me. I can tell when two people are having sex. It’s in the way you talk to each other and touch each other. Plus, she was in your room in the middle of the night when I arrived.” Aunt Birdie waved her hand as she settled back on the couch and then heaved a deep breath.
Roark wanted to be more irritated by her waltzing in here saying these things, but he didn’t miss the fact that she’d been looking even more tired lately. “Aunt Birdie, I’m an adult. I think it’s okay for me to have sex with a woman.” He tried to go back to what he was doing, looking along the bookshelves and on the desk in the corner.
“You’re a Donovan man, so you’re virile enough. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have something to say about it.” She slapped a hand down on the arm of the chair to get his attention.
“With all due respect—” he began.
“Oh please, don’t give me that crap. Anytime somebody says that, it means they’re getting ready to disrespect you. And you’d better not even try it. Besides, I’d still keep going until I said what I had to say.”
Roark clapped his lips shut, because every word of what she’d just said was correct. It was better and would probably go quicker if he just listened to what she had to say and got it over with.
“Now, she’s a nice enough girl. Takes care of her mother, which is always a good thing. Even though I still don’t understand why she let that poor woman come all the way over here and live by herself for a year.”
“She wasn’t actually by herself. Tuppence was with her,” he interjected.
“Please, that woman’s a little off.”
Roark held back a chuckle, because he was almost certain people had said that about Aunt Birdie a time or two.
“But like I said, Tamika’s a good enough girl. She’s not like Katrina.”
For the second time today Roark’s mind reluctantly went to his ex-wife. “Katrina and I have been over for a long time, Aunt Birdie.”
“And thank the good Lord for that. She wasn’t right for you. Maxine and I talked about that. It was one of the few things she and I agreed on. But that’s not what I came in here to talk to you about.”
Roark walked over to the couch and took a seat beside her.
“I want to know your intentions toward her,” Aunt Birdie said simply. “Are you going to just keep sleeping with her, or do you plan to marry this girl?”
“Whoa, Aunt Birdie, slow down. I just got a divorce.”
“You also just reminded me that was a long time ago. Don’t dilly-dally with me, Roark. Tell me what you have planned.”
He’d never answered to anyone before regarding his personal relationships, and Roark didn’t plan to now. He also didn’t plan to disrespect his aunt for fear she’d carry through on whatever unspoken threat she’d mentioned just a few moments ago. “Tamika and I are just— We’re getting to know each other,” he said and then swallowed because he hated that he was having this conversation with her.
“In a biblical way,” his aunt continued. Of course, this morning’s church service was the culprit.
“Yes, ma’am. We’re both consenting adults, and we’re okay with the status of our relation…I mean, friendship.” To his own ears, that word sounded incorrect for what was actually going on between them, but Aunt Birdie didn’t need to know he was feeling that way.
“Women aren’t to be toyed with, Roark. I’ve had this conversation with Ridge more times than I can count, but he’s as stubborn as a mule, just like my daddy was. Anyway, I always thought you were the smarter, more reasonable of Gabe’s boys.” There was a compliment in there somewhere, Roark was certain. “If this isn’t going to go past the sex stage, you should stop it now.”
“Even if she’s in agreement?”
“No woman is ever going to agree to be just a sex partner for long. It’ll always change. Feelings will grow, expectations will be set and you’ll be caught if you’re not careful. You’ve been sleeping with her all during this dilemma, but when it’s over, what happens? How do you think she’s going to react to being nothing better than your mistress at that point?”
“I wouldn’t ever call her a mistress.”
“But you’ll treat her like one.”
“I’m not treating her like a mistress.” Hadn’t they gone out in public? Well, not on a real date, but this is a different scenario. He’d like to think that if he’d met her on the street, he would’ve asked her out on a proper date before they’d begun sleeping together.
“Not yet. But mark my words, all of this is going to change.”
“My first concern right now is for Sandra’s safety, Aunt Birdie. I want this killer to be caught so we all can get back to some semblance of normalcy. I can finish grieving for my mother, and Tamika can continue grieving for her father. Then we can both move on.”
She pointed a finger, pressing it into his arm. “And you’ll move on together or apart? That’s the question I’m asking you. It’s what you need to think long and hard about before the time comes, or mark my words, they’ll be confusion and hurt feelings and another big mess you didn’t anticipate. Trust me,” she said. “I’m an old woman but I’ve been a mistress before. I know how things can change in the blink of an eye.”
Roark didn’t know how to respond to her last words. He didn’t want to know about his aunt’s previous lovers or any who’d broken her heart for fear he might have to hunt down some old guy and beat his ass. No, Roark only wanted Kaymen Benedict to be caught, finally, and for everyone to be safe again. That was all he wanted, or at least that was all he was going to let himself acknowledge that he wanted.
Chapter 19
Roark awoke with a start. His eyes opened but he didn’t move. He was laying on his side so he could see the lighted numbers from the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was two a.m.
He sighed, because for the past nights Tamika had been in his bed, Roark had been sle
eping soundly through the night. He’d even dreamed of a calmer, happier time in his sleep. But tonight, he was up.
After a few seconds of going over that fact, he rolled over and reached for her. She was there, and he loved the feel of her softness pressing eagerly against him. Not in a sexual way—of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t thoroughly enjoy having sex with her—but what he was feeling right now was a heavy dose of comfort.
Roark wrapped his arm tighter around her, snuggling his face into her neck where he inhaled her scent.
He paused and inhaled again, deeper this time.
Roark sat straight up in the bed. It wasn’t flowers he smelled.
Tamika sat up right behind him. “Smoke,” she whispered, and in the next seconds they were both leaping out of the bed.
Roark paused long enough to slip on shoes; he was bare-chested and wore only basketball shorts, but that would have to be enough. Tamika wore a nightgown and she pushed her feet into her slippers too, but they both made it to the door at the same time.
“Touch it first,” she said. “See if it’s hot. The door and the handle.”
Roark did as she instructed, pressing his palm to the center of the door at the top, then bending down to do the same at the bottom. There was no heat. He stood and reached slowly for the doorknob—again, no heat. In the next second, he yanked the door open and stepped through with Tamika right behind him.
They both looked up and down the hall but didn’t see any evidence of smoke. They only smelled it.
“We need to check each room before going downstairs,” she told him.
“And call for the guards,” he said as an afterthought and then cursed when he ran back to his room to grab his phone off the nightstand. Sure, the phone wouldn’t save anyone from a fire, but Roark was acutely aware they weren’t just dealing with a fire.
He dialed Jack’s number and waited for him to pick up, but after five rings, Roark disconnected. By then, he was at the door to Tuppence’s room, because it was the first room next to his. Tamika was already in there waking Tuppence and telling her to get her slippers and robe on.
“There’s no fire or smoke in here,” Tamika came to him saying.
He nodded, and they both headed to the next room. Sandra’s.
Tamika checked the door this time and then hurriedly pushed inside. She flicked on lights as she moved, and Roark looked around the room, his heart sinking as he did.
“She’s probably in the bathroom,” Tamika said. “She goes a lot at night.” She walked toward the closed bathroom door.
As she checked it, Roark knew what she’d find. He reached for his phone again this time dialing Cade.
Tamika came running out of the bathroom, eyes wide, voice cracking as she said, “She’s not in here.”
Roark went to her then, wrapping an arm around her and hurriedly leading her out of the room as he waited for Cade to pick up. Tuppence was already in the hallway when Cade answered.
“Sandra’s gone,” Roark told him. “She’s gone, and we smell smoke in the house. I’m gonna get everyone out.”
“What? We’re sitting right outside and we don’t see anything,” Cade replied.
“Well, she’s gone, Cade! She’s gone!”
Roark and Tamika walked Tuppence down the steps gently, only to stop the minute they saw the smoke coming from the parlor.
“Why aren’t the smoke alarms going off?” Roark asked. “What the hell is wrong with the alarms?” There was a security system connected to the smoke alarms, but nothing was going off, even though something was clearly burning in the house. “Take her back upstairs. I have to get Suri and Aunt Birdie.” He was talking to Tamika, who looked at him as if she were getting ready to tell him it was too dangerous to go downstairs. He wasn’t going to accept that if she did. “Or just stay right here, and I’ll give you a signal if it’s clear for you to get her to the doorway.”
Roark didn’t wait for another reaction from her or a response. He ran down the stairs, using his arm to cover his mouth and nose so he wouldn’t inhale too much smoke. There was only a dim glow from the two wall sconces in the foyer, which was how they’d seen the smoke. Other than that, no lights were on down here. It didn’t matter—he knew where he was going.
Roark ran past the parlor and the formal living room. He turned down the hallway that led to the bedrooms facing the back of the house. But before he could get to the first one, there was a blast, and a door flew off its hinges. Flames quickly followed blocking his progress. Roark reared back so fast he stumbled and landed on his ass, heat from the flames causing his skin to sweat instantly.
“Fuck!” he yelled. He had to get to Suri and Aunt Birdie. He wasn’t going to leave them in here.
There were noises all around now. He thought the front door may have been kicked in or there was more thumping. Smoke was definitely thicker now, and he choked after inhaling quite a bit of it.
“Suri!” he yelled. “Suri!”
Maybe if she heard him, she could at least find Aunt Birdie and lead her out the window or something. There was nothing on this side of the house but bedrooms. Down the opposite hallway was the pool area and the exit to the back veranda.
“Suri! Suri!”
Nothing. All Roark heard was thumping. All he smelled was smoke and just ahead of him, all he could see were the glowing flames licking against the walls and everything else they touched as they traveled. He had to get up, and find them some help. He stood and ran back the way he’d come, but there was even more smoke in that direction now.
Tamika had waited long enough. She had Tuppence remove her robe and nightgown. Then she put the robe back on and zipped it up to her neck. She used the nightgown to wrap around the bottom half of Tuppence’s face, protecting her from the smoke.
“We’re gonna walk now,” she instructed her. “We’ll take it slow, one step at a time, but we need to get downstairs and out the front door.” Because there was no way Tuppence could jump out of a window. It wasn’t Tamika’s best idea either, but she would’ve done it if she had to. What she wasn’t going to do was leave Tuppence.
They made their way slowly down the curving staircase until she knew they were on the ground floor because it was covered with smoke. The front door was open, and security guys were filing in.
“Over here! We’re here! Get her out!” she yelled.
A guard ran over and lifted Tuppence into his arms. Tamika watched them go toward the door when out of the corner of her eye she saw another guard coming her way.
“Come on, you can get out this way!” he yelled to her.
She was shaking her head, even though she wasn’t sure he could see or understand her. “Not without my mother!”
“Ma’am, the Fire Brigade is on their way. We gotta get you out of here.” He grabbed for Tamika’s arm, but she pulled away from him and ran in the opposite direction.
“Mama! Mama, are you in here?” she screamed and ran down the hallway until she slammed into something hard and fell back on the floor.
Roark picked her up. “You can’t go back there,” he was yelling. “There’s too much fire. We gotta get help. Let’s go out the front door and get help!”
“Not without my mother, Roark. I won’t leave this house without her,” she said. “The pool, did you check the pool? It doesn’t look like the smoke’s coming from down there.”
She pushed past him and ran down the hall, only to be stopped by a strong arm around her waist. Tamika protested when he lifted her off her feet and carried her back toward the front of the house.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” he yelled.
She was screaming at him and trying to break free when they were both knocked back by a blast. On their hands and knees now, Roark pointed to a door. She’d pulled her nightshirt up over her face to block the smoke and followed him. Roark kicked the door in and pushed her inside before closing the door behind them.
“Welcome to the party.”
They both stop
ped dead in their tracks when they saw him. Dressed in full firefighter regalia and holding a blowtorch in his right hand was Kaymen Benedict. And strapped to the chair in front of him was her mother.
Tamika screamed and tried to run toward her, but Roark caught her around the waist again as Kaymen lifted the blowtorch and aimed it at her.
“Don’t come any closer, or I’ll burn your ass too.” His voice was a raspy snarl, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her now was getting her mother to safety.
“He’s not gonna kill her in front of us.”
She heard Roark talking from behind her, but her heart was beating so fast every part of her body was shaking. Why was he talking to him? What did he think that was going to do? The man was obviously a lunatic.
“I don’t give a damn about any of you, just her. She’s the last one. You were last that night too, weren’t you, Sandra? You’d been sitting right next to me, and I felt when your body eased away from mine. You never touched me, never checked to see if I was still breathing.” Kaymen moved closer to her mother, putting the torch beside her right ear as he spoke.
Tamika tried to calm herself as Roark spoke. “Why didn’t you call out to them? Why didn’t you tell them you were alive, Kaymen?”
Okay, he was going to try distracting the psychotic killer. She guessed there were worst things to do, but again she focused on her own breathing. There was gasoline in here. It was all over the place—on the floors, the furniture, probably even the walls. That meant he was planning to burn the place down. The question now was how did he think he was going to get out in time if he’d already started fires in other areas of the house?
She didn’t have time to figure that out.
“We thought you were with us,” Sandra said, her voice barely a creak amid the sound of the torch.
“Stop lying!” Kaymen shouted into her face. “Stop sitting there telling those lies when you knew I wasn’t with you. Not one time during that three-mile walk to the motel did any of you see me and wonder where I was. Or did you just not care?”