Crash and Burn (Wildfire Hearts Book 1)

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Crash and Burn (Wildfire Hearts Book 1) Page 13

by Savannah Kade


  Big Sebastian, who could face anything, looked terrified. But he blurted out the words. “I want us to be more than friends.”

  Her eyes went wide and her breath sucked in. It was exactly what she

  was hoping he would say, but she hadn't believed he actually would. She’d been waiting for this, but it was still a shock.

  “I'm sorry,” he blurted that out just as fast and stepped back. “I don't want you to think that that's the only reason I came, or that I'm staying because I think that you owe me something, or—”

  The fingers she’d laid on his chest curled involuntarily. And it had the effect of stopping his words in their tracks.

  Stepping closer, she lifted up on her tiptoes and said, “Me, too.”

  Her lips lifted to his, the shock of finally kissing him reverberated through her system as she pressed her mouth to his.

  But Sebastian stood stock still.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sebastian had expected Maggie to tell him he wasn’t welcome anymore. He’d been ready to beg her to let him stay until someone else showed up, maybe even Rex. Or he’d planned to squeeze his eyes shut and listen to her tell him how she liked him, a lot, but not in that way.

  He’d been braced for a lot of outcomes.

  But not this one.

  Her lips on his shot fire through his system and he wasn’t ready. The headiness of her wanting him had him frozen in place.

  Until the touch of her left and he had nothing but air to make him wish for something he hadn’t expected. His eyes blinked open as she stepped back.

  “Oh. I’m sorry, I thought ...”

  Hell, no.

  He was not letting her think he didn’t want her.

  “If you thought I wanted you, you’re right. I just … I didn’t expect you to want me, too.”

  She laughed, a soft sound that didn’t ridicule his uncertainty, it only assured him. “I wish you’d asked me out first.”

  He would have reached out to pull her closer, but she stepped back.

  “If we’re confessing things, I wished you’d asked me out even when Rex and I were first going out. And that was horrible of me. Rex is a great guy who got a rough deal lately, though Hannah is awesome, but I was not a good girlfriend.” She seemed to be explaining away things Sebastian didn’t think she owed anyone. Besides, he was still hung up on the ‘wish you’d asked me out first’ part.

  “You were a really great girlfriend, babysitting full time like that.” He stopped himself right there. The last thing he wanted to talk about was her ex. Instead, Sebastian wanted to suggest she could be an amazing girlfriend to him. “Can I make up for just now?”

  Those mossy green eyes blinked at him, confused until his hand slid around her hip and nudged her closer. As she moved willingly into his arms, he slid his other hand into her hair, hinting for her to tip her mouth up to his. The headiness of finally having Maggie in his arms washed over him and his movements were pure instinct.

  This time, when her lips touched his, Sebastian let the fire take over. Every connection lit up, the feeling of kissing Maggie engulfed his whole world. Her lips parted for him and he didn’t know if he’d done it first or if she had, but his tongue swept her mouth, an intimate invasion that felt right.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest as she shifted upward, fusing their mouths together. No more light touches, no more tastes, Maggie had moved to devour him, and Sebastian was willing to return the favor.

  His hands roamed and slipped beneath the edge of her t-shirt. Though he had traced every curve of her—the fabric was so thin—the touch of skin under his fingertips burst through him like wildfire. There was no containing it.

  Maggie’s touch roamed his shoulders, her fingers curling in to pull herself up higher and letting him know that she was here for this as much as he was. He let her nudge him backward, until the wall was at his back and he almost slid down, just a little, to put them on more even levels. She was tall, but not as tall as him.

  When Maggie pulled back with a small frustrated growl, his heart stopped cold in his chest. What had he done? But she grabbed his shirt in fistfuls and pulled him away from the wall.

  He was more than willing to let Maggie steer him around. Dear God, yes.

  She turned him, pushed him backward and he was looking in her eyes—her mischievous green eyes—as she maneuvered him back onto the stairs.

  Oh. God. Yes.

  Reaching back, he settled himself onto a step, and was more than rewarded when Maggie settled herself on his lap. “Is this okay?”

  She was sliding forward, up his thighs, her legs straddling his.

  “Very much.” He maybe didn’t get all of that last word out. He’d pulled her closer, sliding her the last few inches until she was settled flush against him. Until she could feel with no doubt that, yes, it was very much okay.

  This time, his touch wandered down below the edge of the so-short running shorts. It was too easy to stroke her skin, right up under the edge of the fabric, to grab her sweet ass and try to move her even closer.

  He wanted to peel all their clothing, toss it aside, and drive into her right there on the steps. And he also wanted, just as badly, to let her know she was safe with him. To turn this into more than just a fuck on the staircase. The ride they were on was careening wildly forward, and he wasn’t sure he could stop it.

  Maggie’s soft fingers slid under his shirt, traced the edge of his jeans, and elicited a moan from somewhere deep in his soul. God, he’d wanted this for so long, and he didn’t want to stop it.

  She pulled back, her breathing as heavy as his. Her chest moved with each inhale, but her eyes stayed on his. Was she going to say they should stop?

  Pulling her down, he kissed her again. She could stop them at any time, but he’d wanted to taste her again. Just this once.

  Maggie leaned into him, almost toppling him backward. He was lost to everything except the feeling of her skin on his.

  But then she jerked upright, and he placed the noise he’d just heard.

  Tires squealing on pavement, just outside the front door.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Maggie jolted back at the sound. She was straddling Sebastian, her hair a mess from his fingers. Her own hands were still twisted into his t shirt. The two of them looked like they'd been doing exactly what they'd been doing.

  Awkwardly, she scrambled off him and bolted toward the front window. Hearing the car squealing down toward the end of the street, she tipped her head to the left and almost pressed her face to the glass.

  Sebastian was right behind her.

  In any other situation, she would have been concerned about climbing the couch like a dog and having her ass in the air while she looked out the window. But not right now. She looked back at Sebastian. “It was a silver sedan.”

  “That's not good,” Sebastian said. “Which means he was here. Probably sitting in front of the house. Even after I followed him earlier.”

  She looked to the man she'd been ravaging just a moment before. His clothes and his hair were still mussed. His expression was anything but—it was fierce, angry, worried.

  He was strong and lean, and even upset, he looked like something she wanted. Maggie shrugged at him, not knowing what to do about the silver sedan. She wanted to go back to what they were doing, but clearly they hadn’t been paying enough attention.

  Who knew if he'd even come to the door? He might have even peeked in the window and seen them. They’d been making out on the stairs in the front foyer. Thank God the window on the front door was frosted, but the living room window afforded a clear view.

  Her attention had all been focused on Sebastian and the way he made her feel. And oh, how he made her feel. That one kiss had blown everything with Rex out of the water—just more proof that she'd not made a good decision up front.

  Climbing off the couch, she turned to face Sebastian. That was when she saw the uncertainty in his eyes, too. As if he was wondering
if that would be it: one flash makeout session on the steps and then never again.

  She stepped toward him again, pushed up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth softly to his, fighting the urge to turn the gentle kiss into something more. Forcing herself to step back, Maggie realized her hands still twisted into his T shirt, as if she could hold him to her. “We should look up that license plate.”

  His own hand came up to cover hers, reassuring. “Can you do that? I thought only law enforcement had that ability.”

  She tipped her head. “Maybe. But at this point it’s worth a try. We might not get a reverse search on the plate, but you know as good as anybody, that there’s a lot on the internet.”

  She headed toward the back of the house, “I’m grabbing my laptop.” And she heard Sebastian head up the stairs, presumably to get his. Settling in at the dinner table, she realized she was out of sorts in her running shorts and T shirt, with her computer at her overly formal antique dining set.

  But she needed to work more than she needed to change out of her house cleaning clothes. So she was already punching buttons as Sebastian powered up his own laptop next to her.

  He was so close and he smelled of some kind of deep aftershave. She wanted to be doing a lot of other things with him besides internet research, but here she was. Maggie pulled out her phone and checked the picture she’d taken. Then she matched it against Sebastian’s text. And, confident that they had the same number, she started typing.

  First, she looked for sites where she could input the plate itself.

  “Well, shit,” Sebastian said, as he looked over her shoulder. Her screen had popped up. Sure enough, the plate belonged to a silver sedan.

  “Looks like a Toyota in this picture,” she pointed at the screen. Her own hadn’t been clear, it wasn’t her best photographic effort.

  “I think it was.” He looked up as though trying to remember. “I was more concerned with memorizing the plate, though.”

  “Actual DMV records should be harder to come by,” she said. Sure enough, it was difficult to get a picture of the owner or even a name as to who the car was registered to.

  “What about the VIN?” Sebastian asked, and when she looked at him oddly he said “Vehicle ID number, if you can get that from the plate, you might get the owner or even the seller from the VIN, maybe even a list of recent repairs.”

  He was typing on his own keyboard, looking up similar information. But after fifteen minutes with no results, she asked, “What about arrests?”

  The more she thought about it, the more she liked it. She snapped her fingers as she realized it could work. He was grinning at her enthusiasm, but she said, “Arrests are in the newspaper. They’re public knowledge. If we search and we search for a silver Toyota sedan, then if he got pulled over in the car … we should be able to find a name!”

  Thirty minutes later, though, she was still looking. Sebastian was typing in short bursts himself but hadn’t had any eureka moments either. They sat side by side, punching keys, scrolling through screens of data, and occasionally swearing.

  “What about Blue River Killer suspects?” Sebastian asked as he hit keys again. Five minutes later, he said, “Look at this,” and turned his screen to face her. “What about this guy?”

  Maggie frowned. The picture didn’t mean anything to her. He was older, brown hair cut short, but clearly turning white. She hadn’t thought about him being old, but if he’d been killing for twenty years, he would have had to start as a teenager to be any younger than she was. This was probably the right age range for him, she realized.

  So she looked a little closer … but then she read his name and her heart twisted as she realized she’d seen it before.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Maggie clicked buttons frantically on her own laptop, her elbow threatening to bump his but she didn't care. “Remember I told you I found something?”

  Sebastian looked at her with trepidation in his eyes, as though he was growing more concerned. He was right to be concerned.

  “I went through Abbie's records—the ones we photographed. They seemed incredibly incomplete though it's plausible that the boardinghouse was just never full. I don't know which it is.”

  Sebastian leaned back a little in the chair, now thinking, no longer hunched over his own keyboard. “I don't remember. I mean, I was a kid for a lot of it. I can ask my mom.”

  “That would be great!” Maggie’s thoughts twisted. She hadn’t even considered that some of the locals could be references. They would know a lot about Abbie’s boarders and maybe help sort this out. But then she wondered if she could get to meet Sebastian’s parents herself. She had, after all, just had her tongue down the man's throat. The two of them had confessed that they were interested in each other, but … where would that lead?

  Unfortunately, right now, there seemed to be a killer associated with her house, which was definitely the more pressing issue. She waited a moment, while Sebastian went through the pleasantries with his mom. It warmed Maggie’s heart that they talked with an easy camaraderie.

  “Really?” he said, “Interesting. What years do you think it was most full?” He motioned to Maggie for paper and pencil. She pushed her notepad over toward him and he jotted down a few decades. Then he thanked his mom and hung up.

  Setting his phone down, he rotated the pad around so she could read it upright. “This is when my mom remembers the place was hopping. Otherwise, she doesn't remember Sabbie keeping the place full. Sometimes she thought it was maybe just one or two people.”

  “And always men?” Maggie asked.

  He nodded. “My mother always explained that it was an old-fashioned thing. There were boarding houses for men and boarding houses for women. But they were always run by women.”

  Maggie nodded. “So here's what I found when I looked earlier. This one particular man boarded here, repeatedly.”

  “He stayed a long time?”

  “Overall, Yes. But he was in and out. He left for a while—months or even a few years—but he came back and boarded with her again. And he was always in the same room.”

  “Let me guess which one,” Sebastian said wryly.

  She nodded back, glad he didn’t think she was silly. “He probably requested it.”

  This time she turned her laptop around to face him as she flipped through pictures and pointed to the ones that were important.

  The third picture was one of Sabbie’s crappy napkin rental agreements. “My guess is, by the time they signed this she felt she knew him, which is why they had this crappy rental arrangement.”

  “There’s no name,” Sebastian pointed out.

  Maggie pointed to the photo of the napkin. “Right, nothing printed, but there are two signatures at the bottom. And this signature—” she pointed, then flipped to another image, “—matches the one over here.” She flipped the screen again. “And this one back here.”

  She was having to remember where in the grouping each picture was. They weren’t in chronological order, because Abbie’s records hadn’t been. Had she and Sebastian had time to go through them carefully, Maggie would have arranged them by date. When she had a chance, she’d duplicate the file and sort everything. Maybe it would reveal something else.

  “The signature looks the same,” she said, still pointing and popping through the images. “And the names on the first two are the same, as well. Merrit Geller—always in room number five.”

  Though she’d said it before, this time Sebastian frowned, and stared at her. “How would he always get the same room? Wouldn't he sometimes want it and someone would be in it?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I didn't see any documentation where she moved somebody out of five for him. But if she occasionally ran at as low volume as the paperwork and as your mother suggests, Abbie might have been leaving that room open for him whenever possible.”

  “Which would indicate—” Sebastian offered, “that maybe she’d liked the guy … At least professionally.”

&n
bsp; Maggie thought about it. What if Aunt Abbie had liked him more than professionally? She'd never married or had kids of her own, but to think that she'd never gotten involved with anyone would be ridiculous. It would be easy enough to have a romantic relationship with one of the boarders. No one would accuse her of having a man over when she wasn’t married. They could keep it all hush-hush. And Maggie suspected that would have been necessary then. It would hurt her business to have an affair that people knew about.

  Sebastian seemed to see what she was thinking. “If she was involved with him, he may have had special privileges.”

  Nodding along, Maggie flipped through the pictures again. “When we were photographing her records, I noticed a couple copies of a list of rules.” She found one and pointed to the old mimeographed copy. “They had to be inside by eleven pm though. And they weren't able to leave before five in the morning. The Blue River murders are all estimated to have taken place late at night.”

  She was thinking out loud now. “Were all the men inside every night, did she check that?”

  “Or—” Sebastian proposed, “did Sabbie just lock the doors at eleven? I mean, I've stayed at hostels before when I traveled. They had very similar rules, but they didn’t corral you. If you weren't in by a certain time, you simply weren't allowed back in until they opened in the morning. It didn't mean you were always there.”

  “If someone was her favorite, he might have gotten a key.”

  Sebastian nodded along and Maggie didn't know if it worried him as much as it worried her that Aunt Abbie might have been involved with a killer. She'd loved her aunt fiercely. Even now, she missed Aunt Abbie more than anything, but—as she’d recently had the harsh lesson—other adults weren't the heroes they'd been held up as when she was a child. Even her parents hadn’t come close.

  It was looking more possible that her Aunt might have had some relationship with a murderer. The thoughts were turning in Maggie’s head and she didn’t like any of them.

 

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