Lexie could have died.
And Kat almost did.
She’d cut Vinnie some slack. As soon as this case was closed, she’d dig a little deeper on Ashley Medearis. At this point, Kat wasn’t sure what the future held for her or the agency, but it was still her responsibility to make sure Ashley wasn’t hiding something that could hurt them.
“Whatever you say.” Vinnie pointed to the papers. “Do you think this guy saw the sketches?”
“He might. I had them on the table and I was by the window in the diner. Anyone passing by could have seen them.”
“Kat, I don’t like it. If this guy knows we are on to him, who knows what he’ll do next? You should stay the night with the fire marshal.”
“What? Why?” She couldn’t stay with someone who didn’t want her around. “I’m fine. The suspect doesn’t know who I am or where I live.”
Pacing in front of her desk, Vinnie argued. “It wouldn’t take much to find out who is investigating the fires for the insurance company. We’ve been snooping around, asking everyone about the fires. How hard do you think it would be for him to get your name? Hell, I’d bet a first-grader could get it within an hour. Kat, he’s already killed one person. If you won’t stay with Randall, stay at your parents’ house. They have better security than you do. At least then I’ll know you’re safe tonight.”
“I. Am. Not. Staying. With my parents. Nor am I cowering behind some man. Besides, it’s easier to get the fire marshal’s name than mine. What’s to stop him from going after Shawn?” She stood toe to toe with Vinnie, her voice firm, not a single hint of the anger or the fear flowing through her. Thank goodness the curtains were drawn for the night.
“Nothing. But two people together are less vulnerable than one.”
She could see the concern marring his sparkling eyes. The accident that almost took her life had shaken Vinnie up, just like the rest of her family. “I’ll think about it. First though, we need to share this info with Detective Daines, see if he can get any hits with the additional data. I need to call Shawn and let him know too.” She reminded herself, she wasn’t caving. The call was a professional obligation, nothing more.
She called the police detective, passed on what they’d learned, and let him know which sketches had been identified and where. Next she put in a call to Shawn’s cell phone. It took a couple of heartbeats for her to realize she’d reached his voice mail. She left a friendly, yet professional message for him advising of the break in the case and asked him to call at his convenience. It was hard not to be disappointed, but she was proud that she kept the emotion out of her voice, that she didn’t let him hear how much she missed him.
Thankfully, the drive between the office and home consisted of only two blocks, because Kat remembered none of the trip. She walked into her condo, pulled the curtains, kicked her shoes off, tossed her coat and purse onto a chair, and dropped to the couch. It was like a signal to her body to open the flood gate, releasing all her pent-up frustration. Tears flowed down her cheeks to disappear beneath the collar of her blouse.
Hours later, spent, exhausted from the escaping rush of emotions she’d been holding in for months, she climbed the stairs to her room. The tears hadn’t all been about Shawn. Sure, some of them had. Some for what they could have had, if only their timing had been better. But most were for letting the actions of other people take hold of her life and steer her down a path she had no desire to go down. To strip her of her self-esteem, to doubt her every decision, to stop believing in herself. Some of those tears were also out of joy and thanks, especially to Shawn for helping to point her toward the path she wanted to be on, if only for the moment. Not everything had to be for life. To believe in herself and her choices again. To remember she had options, that she could take a chance and not fear the outcome.
Tomorrow was a new day. While it was too late to back out of substitute teaching for the next couple of months, it didn’t have to be a lifelong choice, unless she wanted it to be. She’d decided, there on the couch, drenched in her own tears, that she’d give it a try. At the same time, she’d continue to help Lexie with the agency at night and on the weekends. In December, if and it was a big if, the school offered her another position she would think about it then. And if—or rather when—love came her way again, she’d invite it in and give it a chance.
But for now, she needed sleep.
Shawn listened to the voice mail message from Kat. A quick glance at the time had him cringing. No wonder Rodriguez had taken to nagging at him like an old mother hen. He hadn’t gotten home once all week before eleven. Tonight, was no exception.
He’d been meaning to call Kat for the past two days, but he’d been on the go teaching the little tykes to stop, drop, and roll, the bigger kids more fire safety, and inspecting a shitload of businesses. Most days he returned to the station house at the end of his shift, only to spend another couple of hours filing reports and prepping for the next day. By the time he got home there were calls to make for the move and searching the ‘net for a new place to live. Basically, doing everything he could to avoid what was in front of him and what was going on inside his head.
Because the inside of his head was one giant jumbled mess.
Within an hour of dropping Kat off on Monday morning he had been jonesing to see her again, hear her voice, taste her on his lips, feel her under him. He had become a man with an obsession. Going into the affair, he’d had his eyes wide open, had planned to walk away with no strings attached, no consequences.
But somewhere along the way, he’d lost his objective. Well, it was time to get it back, get on track, and remember his priorities. He’d worked damn hard to make this move happen, to land the job in Seattle, and he wasn’t about to blow it now.
Kat was great, and maybe if he’d met her in Washington or if a year ago things had been different, he would have risked a relationship. But not now. Not this close to achieving his goals. He had a chance in the Seattle house to rise through the ranks, to someday head up his own team. When he’d moved to Connecticut, he gave that all up for a woman.
He wasn’t prepared to do it all over again, only to have it handed back to him when she got bored or to find out he didn’t fit with her plans for the future.
In the morning he’d pass the message on to Calabrese. She could call Kat and follow up on the leads. It was a dickhead move, not even telling her himself that he was off the case, not saying goodbye or giving her a reason. But in the end, it was the best for both of them. And if he tried really hard, he might even believe that bullshit excuse.
Stalking across the room, he yanked the fridge door open, grabbed a beer, and tossed the cap in the vicinity of the trash. He downed half of it before moving to drop in a chair and flip on the TV. Tuning to Spike, he caught Die Hard just as John McClane took out the first bad guy. A perfect match for his mood. Loud and violent.
He spun the bottle round and round as McClane took out one terrorist after another in order to save the woman he loved. A darkness crept over him, sliding into his mind, filling his heart, making his breath short and painful as it tried to leave his body. All the bad guys were dead, McClane and his wife were reunited—and instead of being happy because the good guys won, Shawn felt like shit.
He wasn’t the guy for Kat. She needed someone like McClane, a guy that would move heaven and earth for her, who would fight the odds, one who would face down a crazed gunman without thought for his own safety. She deserved more than he could give her. Fuck. When did watching action movies turn him into a chick? Maybe he should have watched the fucking Hallmark channel or Lifetime.
Too wired to sleep, he walked to the kitchen and dumped the rest of his beer, now warm, down the drain. On the way back to the chair, he grabbed his laptop. He flipped through the TV channels and put on The Big Bang Theory for background noise. Powering up his laptop, he went straight to e-mail and dumped the sixty-five messages in his spam folder, all promising a better sex life, he was sure, without even h
aving to read them.
His sex life wasn’t the problem.
He scrolled down past the other crap in the inbox, wondering why everyone needed a person’s e-mail these days and, even more, why did he give it out? Finally, he came upon the ones he needed to read, the ones from Gram and his cousin.
Gram’s email was the usual, catching him up on all the family news, what was happening in the area, and ending it with how excited she was about his move home. She couldn’t wait to see him. He closed the email as his phone rang. A look at caller ID had him relaxing.
“Hey cuz, what’s up? I was just reading Gram’s email. She sounds good.”
“She tell you she’s doing good?”
“Yeah, why?” All his earlier tension returned, times two.
“She lies,” Sutter said.
“What do you mean? What’s going on?”
Heavy breathing came over the line, as he imagined his cousin gathering his thoughts. “She fell getting out of bed the other night.”
He sat up quickly. “Is she okay?” He didn’t want to think about brittle bones and fractured hips and the statistics.
“She hit her head on the dresser, has a mild concussion and lots of bruising, but the doctor let her go home.”
Shawn breathed a small sigh of relief. Home was good. But not if it happened again and she was alone. “She shouldn’t be alone in that old house. It’s too big, too many stairs, and too isolated.”
“That’s why I moved in.”
Good. Sutter would take care of her. “What about Amy? I thought you two were living together.”
“Keyword were.”
Sutter’s voice held all the heartbreak Shawn knew about firsthand. “I’m sorry, cuz. You doing okay?”
The line went quiet.
“Sutter?”
“I’m here. Not sure how to answer your question. I thought she was the one. Had a ring bought and was planning on asking her next week on her birthday.”
Shit. “What happened?”
“A distinct difference in priorities. I thought it was important to move home and be there for Gram, she thought it was important to remain across the sound and pursue her job as a fitness instructor. Like she couldn’t do that anywhere.”
“Man, I’m sorry. If I was there—”
“It wouldn’t matter. You can’t commute to Seattle from Erlands Point. That’s crazy and not safe if you’ve pulled an all-nighter. Besides, she’d still be alone at night when you’re on shift.”
Sutter never pulled punches with him. They were more like brothers than cousins. He was right. Even if he were back now, he still couldn’t be home 24/7. But he could help. Give his cousin a break. Swap nights with him so he could be with Amy at least part of the time.
“I can hear your wheels turning from here, Shawn. Stop. Amy showed her true colors. You know family comes first. If she couldn’t bend for Gram, you think she’d put me first when I needed it or for our future kids? Better I found out now than later.”
“Yeah, I get it. How’s my mom doing with all of this?”
Gram was Shawn’s mother’s mother after all, but while the two women were close, he couldn’t imagine the two of them living together. Talk about bulls butting heads. The problem was they were too much alike—meaning stubborn as hell.
“Aunt Lynn’s good. Dealing with the situation as best as she can. She took Gram to the doctor for the follow-up. Gram’s blood pressure was low, but they’re not sure yet why. Your mom’s stopping by every day to check, but that pisses Gram off, so she keeps the visits short.”
“Sounds like business as normal for those two.”
“Yeah, it is. I could tell your mom was relieved when I moved in. I started rebuilding the front porch after work, but I’ll need your help to get the roof replaced.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll come over when I’m not on shift. We only work eight twenty-four-hour shifts a month. I’ll have the time.”
“It’ll be good to have you back,” Tim said.
Shawn choked back his emotions. His cousin didn’t need any more family drama laid at his feet.
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Let me if anything happens between now and then.”
The call reaffirmed the necessity to move home. It wasn’t a whim or wimping out. His family needed him.
Before he closed out his e-mail program, a new message popped up from a realtor he’d been working with in Seattle. He’d really wanted a small house. But prices in the city were way out of his budget for the time being. Commuting took too long when you’d just pulled a twenty-four-hour shift and spent the last eighteen of those hours fighting a fire and cleaning equipment. He expected the message to give info on a mega-apartment complex, kind of like what he lived in now. Not that what he had was all bad, if you didn’t mind bland white walls, a kitchen you could barely move in, and the ability to hear everything going on in your neighbors’ place. This was an overnight stop, not a home.
Kat would expect a home. Deserved a home.
He shoved the thought away. It didn’t matter what Kat expected or deserved. She’d be on one coast and he on the other. They had no future together and the sooner he got that through his head, the better off both of them would be.
He turned his attention back to the matter at hand—getting home—but thoughts of Kat lingered at the edge of his mind.
What he found in the e-mail was an apartment over a detached three-car garage located fifteen minutes from the station. He’d get one spot in the garage, and the door leading to his apartment was on the far side away from the main house. Semifurnished, full kitchen, two bedrooms, and use of the pool for less than he was paying now as long as he helped a little around the house—mowing the lawn, a few minor repairs—for the elderly couple who owned the home.
Not quite a home, but more than an overnight stop.
Before he even realized what he was doing, he shot off a reply saying he’d take it. He grabbed his phone and sent off the deposit.
There was no turning back now. Before long, Connecticut and one amazing lady would be in his rearview mirror.
Chapter 13
The day dragged, with minutes stretching out into hours, and no amount of work in the world could make the time pass fast enough. When Kat got the call from Fire Marshal Teri Calabrese advising her that the case had been passed over to her, to say Kat had been pissed was an understatement. No, not about the case being reassigned, that was to be expected with Shawn’s move. What ticked her off was being blown off like a cheap one-night stand. She didn’t expect him to get down on bended knee and propose but, at the same time, she sure as hell didn’t expect or deserve to be treated like a slut.
And she planned to tell him that to his face.
According to her new friend Teri, Shawn should be back at the station around four. Normally she wasn’t into making scenes, but the chances of missing him at his apartment were too high and she wasn’t about to confront him in front of a bunch of kids. Not that she was planning to cause a big stink—that wasn’t her style—she simply wanted to know why he couldn’t tell her himself. If nothing else, she thought they had become friends over the past couple of weeks. Maybe if she were honest with herself and looked deep down, she’d admit that what she felt for Shawn went far beyond platonic, but he didn’t know that. He couldn’t know. She’d been careful to keep it light and fun.
Still, you don’t treat friends like the muck you stepped in while walking in the sewer.
An hour later she sat in her car across the street from the fire station watching the nonstop activity. Criminy, there were people everywhere. Guys were outside washing a truck and rolling hoses. The bay doors were open and more men were standing around talking, killing time, something. She hadn’t expected it to be so, so active. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she grabbed Shawn’s black leather coat that she had borrowed last weekend and headed into the station. All eyes turned toward her, making the fine hairs on her neck and arms stand up. Conversations
died.
“Hi, I’m looking for Marshal Shawn Randall.”
A good looking Hispanic in his early thirties flashed a killer smile. “Hello, beautiful. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Lt. Miguel Rodriguez, one of the firefighters here. Perhaps I can be of assistance? Take you on a personal tour of the station? Answer any questions you have on being a firefighter, how we put our lives on the line every day to save our wonderful citizens?”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t help it. He was so sincere and cheesy at the same time. “I appreciate the offers,” she responded, stressing the s. “But I really do need to speak with Shawn.”
“He’s in the kitchen.” He indicated a door to their left. “If you should change your mind, say the word and I’m your man.”
Pushing the door open, she came face-to-face with another room full of men. Aren’t there any women at this station? Not that she needed backup, but seeing one set of eyes that wasn’t undressing her would have been comforting.
Shawn slowly rose from where he’d been hunched down in front of the fridge, a bottle of water in his hand. A fleeting emotion crossed his face before he shut it down, apparently shutting her out of his thoughts, making it clear she was out of his life.
“Hey, did Calabrese get hold of you?”
“Yeah, she managed to find the time in her busy schedule to check in with me on the case.”
Before the Dawn Page 18