Jayme's Journey

by Laura Scott

  She stared at him for a long moment. “What about my car?”

  “It will be towed to the police garage. I’ll need to examine the device that started the fire more closely.”

  “Do you plan to compare this one to what you found outside my house?”

  “Basically, yes.” Although he already knew the two devices were very different. One was made to cause smoke, the other to cause a fire. There were components, like phosphates and other chemicals, that may be similar. But he didn’t want her to get caught up in the details. “I’ll give you a ride to a friend’s house.”

  She grimaced as she glanced around at the firefighters who were already packing up to leave. “I guess I can go to a motel, but I’d like to stop at home first. Pick up a few things.”

  A motel? He didn’t know why her decision bothered him, but it did. He wanted to ask why she’d ruled out going to a friend’s place. She worked in the clinic, surely someone there would be willing to help her out.

  Linc bit his tongue to stop from asking a slew of questions, none of which were his business. “Fine, I’ll take you home, then drop you off at a motel. Which one?”

  “The Shady Lane Motel.”

  He winced before he could stop himself. “Really? It’s not a nice place.”

  She shrugged and avoided his gaze. “It’s cheap.”

  He didn’t doubt the place was cheap, not that he’d ever been there. But he was curious as to how she knew the room rates. Had she stayed there in the past? Honestly, it didn’t seem like her type of place.

  Then again, Linc knew next to nothing about her, so maybe it was her type of place. He reminded himself that her past was none of his concern, despite the fact that he was insatiably curious about her.

  “Linc? You need anything else?” Meyers asked.

  “You’ve arranged for this to be taken to the police garage?” When Meyers nodded, he smiled. “I’m good, then. Thanks.”

  “See you.” Meyers glanced curiously at Jayme before returning to the fire rig.

  “My vehicle is this way, Ms. Weston,” he said, gesturing toward his black SUV.

  “Jayme.” She fell into step beside him. She let out a weary sigh. “You may as well call me Jayme.”

  “Okay, Jayme. I’m Linc.” He glanced at her. “I gave you my card, why didn’t you call me directly?”

  “The car was on fire, and I wasn’t sure if the gas tank would explode, so I called the emergency operator.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Never called 911 in my life until today. Twice in twenty-four hours must be a new record.”

  “Most cars don’t explode the way you see on TV, but I can understand your concern. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He opened the passenger door for her. She looked surprised but then climbed in. “I’m sure it was frightening.”

  “Yeah.” All humor faded from her face. “I’m worried, Linc. This person has struck out at me twice in twenty-four hours. What is he planning next?”

  “I wish I knew.” He hated knowing she had every right to be concerned. He closed her door and rounded the vehicle. He took a moment to text his aunt Becca an apology about missing dinner due to a call, then climbed in behind the wheel. Moments later, he had the SUV on the road heading toward her house.

  “I had a patient today who got pretty upset,” she said, breaking the silence.

  He arched a brow. “Did he threaten you?”

  “No. He was swearing at me, and when I reminded him about our policy against foul language, he stormed out.” She glanced at him. “He was upset with his surgeon not renewing his pain meds.”

  He could understand how a patient may take that type of frustration out on a therapist. “Did he think you were responsible for the surgeon’s decision?”

  “No.” She waved a hand. “This is what I’m trying to tell you. My patients might get angry or upset, but there’s really no reason for one of them to do something like this.”

  “I agree, it’s a stretch.” He turned the wheel to enter her driveway. “And you’re absolutely sure there isn’t anyone else who could be holding a grudge against you?”

  She hesitated for a long moment. “There is one possibility, but it’s a very remote one. Will probably turn out to be nothing.”

  His pulse kicked up. “Who?”

  “A man named Marco Edgar.” She pushed open her door. “It’s a long story. I can fill you in on the details later. But I wanted you to have his name so you can cross him off the list.”

  “Hold on, I’m going in with you.” He quickly joined her as she walked up the driveway. “Give me your key, I’ll go in first.”

  To her credit, Jayme didn’t argue. She handed him her house key and then stood back as he entered the building, looking for any sign of an intruder. Jayme stayed to his back as he cleared one room and the other, verifying the place was empty.

  “Grab your things.”

  “Thanks.” She disappeared into the bedroom.

  Linc stood in the middle of the living room, his thoughts whirling. The fact that this guy had struck while her car was at the clinic meant he knew her schedule. Knew when she worked, when she was home.

  This Marco guy she’d mentioned? The name didn’t mean anything to him, but Sevierville wasn’t that small. He’d grown up here in town but had also worked in Knoxville for several years. He certainly didn’t know everyone in the area.

  He made a mental note to run the name past his aunt Becca, after he apologized again for missing dinner.

  “I’m ready.” Jayme had changed into soft, comfortable blue jeans and a dark green sweater. She had a duffel bag looped over her shoulder.

  He took the bag from her and escorted her back outside. Before he could talk himself out of it, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “Why?”

  “You said you had a long story to tell, and we both need to eat.” He glanced at her. “There’s a nice Italian place not far from here.”

  “I—uh, sure. Why not.” She looked flustered by his offer. He could relate.

  Linc told himself that he needed to hear more about Marco Edgar, but somehow, taking Jayme to his favorite Italian restaurant felt like a date.

  The more Jayme thought about her situation, it seemed highly unlikely that Marco was running around Sevierville starting fires to scare her.

  But honestly, he was the only person she could think of that might be holding a grudge against her.

  She’d briefly considered her foster siblings but then dismissed the notion. They’d all hated the Preacher, had been grateful to escape the burning cabin.

  Had all vowed to never go back into foster care ever again.

  No, it didn’t make sense. None of it made sense.

  Yet the two incidents had been all too real.

  As Linc pulled into the crowded parking lot of Della Maria’s, she remembered it was a Friday night. “We don’t have a reservation.”

  “I don’t think we’ll need one.” He shrugged and added, “I know the owner.”

  No surprise there. She swallowed a sigh. Linc was the kind of guy who made friends easily and likely knew everyone in town.

  As different from her as a bear to a mouse.

  And she was the mouse.

  True to his word, when they entered the restaurant, a woman came rushing over to greet him. “Lincoln, it’s been too long. Oh, and you brought a lovely guest.” The woman’s keen eyes swept over Jayme, not missing a thing.

  “Della Maria, this is Jayme Weston. Jayme, Maria is the owner and a friend of my aunt Becca.”

  “What he means is we are family.” Maria beamed. “Come, I have the perfect table for you in the corner.” The woman’s personality was larger than life, and Jayme nearly choked when she winked at her, as if in approval of a personal relationship developing between them, before leading the way through the restaurant to a secluded table in the corner. “I hope this works for you?”

  “Absolutely, thanks, Maria.” Linc gathered the older
woman in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best.”

  “Of course I am.” Maria patted his cheek. “Anything for you, Lincoln. Enjoy your evening.” Maria quickly moved away, chatting with other guests as she returned to the front of the restaurant.

  “Wow, she’s—something,” Jayme said as she sank into the seat across from Linc. “I’m surprised she’s the owner and not the chef.”

  “Her husband, Dimitri, is the chef.” He eyed her across the table. “Sorry if she made it sound as if this was a date.”

  “It’s fine.” She fell silent as a server filled their water glasses. When they were alone again, she reached for the menu. “You’ll have to tell me what’s good.”

  “It’s all great,” he said with a chuckle. “But the chicken marsala is one of my favorites.”

  The prices seemed awfully high, then again, she didn’t dine out in places like this. The price for the spaghetti and meatballs seemed reasonable, so she decided to go with that.

  After they’d placed their order, Linc leaned forward. “Tell me about this Marco guy.”

  She quickly explained about Remy Edgar and the money he’d left her and Caitlyn six years ago. She ended the story with how upset Remy’s grandson had been at learning about the money his grandfather had given them. “I told you it was a long shot, but he’s the only person I could think of who might be holding a grudge against me.”

  “Back up, Jayme. Who is Caitlyn?”

  “My younger sister. She recently moved out with a friend who is also finishing up her veterinary tech program. They work together too.”

  “Why didn’t you mention a sister last night?” Linc asked.

  “Because she’s not involved in this.”

  “Except this Remy guy left you both the money, right?”

  She frowned, wondering why he was so focused on this aspect of the story. “Yes, but Caitlyn was a minor then. I’m the one who handled the inheritance. I used some for my schooling, for hers, and for the house.”

  “Impressive.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or simply humoring her. “I know ten grand isn’t a lot of money by most people’s standards, but it was life changing for us.” She didn’t add that Remy’s grandson, Marco, had shown up wearing top of the line clothes and a Rolex watch.

  Once she’d have tried to take it from him.

  But she gave up stealing a long time ago.

  “Did you lose your parents in the fire?”

  His question jolted her enough that she spilled some of her water. “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “Because you haven’t been entirely forthcoming with me, have you?” His dark gaze bored into hers.

  She took a long sip of her water in an effort to get her emotions under control. “I grew up in the foster system. My mother was a prostitute and drug addict, my father is serving life in prison for murder. I guarantee neither of them are involved in this.”

  His gaze flashed with remorse. “I’m sorry to hear that, but maybe someone is trying to get to you as a way of punishing your father.”

  “After all this time?” She shook her head. “Doubtful. I barely remember him, he was gone by my fifth birthday. That was twenty-four years ago.”

  “Caitlyn must have been an infant.”

  She averted her gaze, glancing around the crowded restaurant. The arson investigator was far too detail-focused for her peace of mind. No doubt an admirable quality when it came to his work.

  But she didn’t appreciate people prying into her personal life. Especially the life before she’d escaped from the Preacher. No one needed to know she and Caitlyn weren’t related by blood. They’d lived as sisters for the past thirteen years, and that was all that mattered. “Caitlyn is seven years younger than me. We’re foster siblings, not related by blood.”

  “Okay, could someone from one of the foster homes be involved?”

  The image of the Preacher screaming in agony as he clawed at the oil burning his face flashed in her mind. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to react. “No. There was one difficult home, but those people died a long time ago.”

  His uncanny glance dropped to her burned hand, and she battled a wave of anxiety. She felt certain she wasn’t fooling Lincoln Quade one bit.

  She was barely fooling herself.

  “My last foster family was thirteen years ago. The night of the fire, a man who called himself the Preacher tried to rape me. So yes, I threw the lantern at him and started a fire. But we escaped, and he and his wife didn’t.” She glared at him. “Happy now? You know the entire sordid painful truth. But none of that is going to help us find the person responsible for”—she waved a hand—“I don’t know, arson stalking me.”

  His jaw dropped. “Look, Jayme, I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t.” She cut him off. “It doesn’t matter. I left my past behind a long time ago. I’ve come a long way since then, and I’m doing fine. At least I was until last night. Can we please just focus on the fires?”

  Linc didn’t have a chance to respond because their server brought over their meals. Linc had gone with his favorite, but she personally thought her spaghetti and meatballs looked much more appealing.

  Although just thinking about the years she and the other fosters had spent living with the Preacher was enough to steal her appetite.

  Linc bowed his head for a moment before meeting her gaze and reaching for his fork. She’d never shared a meal with someone who prayed before eating, and she was slightly annoyed that Linc had once again knocked her off-kilter.

  The man was more complicated than a Rubik’s Cube.

  And she’d never been able to figure out that puzzle.

  Avoiding his gaze, she dug into her meal. As soon as she tasted the tangy sauce, her appetite returned with a vengeance. “This is incredible.”

  Linc grinned. “Told you.”

  She tried to eat slowly, to savor the food. Having learned to cook through necessity, she was no novice in the kitchen, but this? It made her wonder if Dimitri and Della Maria had brought over some secret sauce straight from Italy.

  On cue, Della Maria sashayed over. “How is your meal tonight? Excellent, yes?”

  “Yes!” There was no point in denying her exuberance. “Best ever, thank you so much.”

  “Ah, you are so sweet.” Della Maria bent to place her arm around her shoulders and looked at Linc. “I like her, Linc. She’s a keeper.”

  “Oh, uh . . .” She tried to think of a way to correct Della Maria’s assumption.

  “I’m aware,” Linc said dryly. “Please let Dimitri know how much we are enjoying his food.”

  “Of course. Take care, Linc. Jayme.” Della Maria patted her shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger, come back anytime.”

  “Thank you.” She wasn’t about to promise to return since dining at restaurants as nice as this were outside her limited budget. But if she had more money, she’d definitely come back here.

  Better not to go down that twisty path of wanting what you couldn’t have. The food was so good she’d almost forgotten the only reason she was here with Linc in the first place was because some weirdo arsonist had caused her house to fill with smoke and then had set her car on fire.

  Jayme forced herself to save half her meal for the next day. Linc asked for a to-go box, then paid the bill.

  “Ready?” He slowly rose to his feet.

  “Yes, thanks. That was great.” She made sure to take her leftovers as she followed him through the restaurant and outside to his SUV.

  Once again, he opened the car door for her, and she realized that no one, not even the sweet Remy, had ever done that for her. “Should I apologize?” His low, husky voice made her shiver.

  “For what?” It was impossible to think clearly when he was so close. She quickly slid into the seat, resting her to-go box on her lap.

  “Della Maria and my aunt Becca have been trying to set me up for the past year. I’m sorry you were caught in the crosshai
rs tonight.”

  If there was ever a man who didn’t need to be set up, it was the handsome, dark-eyed arson investigator. “Why on earth would they do that?”

  He glanced away. “My wife and daughter died two years ago. They think it’s time for me to move on with my life.”

  Open mouth and insert foot. “I’m so sorry.” The words sounded inadequate. “I shouldn’t have asked, it’s just . . .” She couldn’t think of a tactful explanation. “I’m sure their efforts come from a place of kindness.”

  He sighed. “I’m not sure about that at all, but I just wanted to explain why Maria pounced on you like that. She’s normally more—subtle.”

  A choked laugh erupted before she could stop it. Subtle was not the word she would have used to describe Della Maria, but she wisely kept her thoughts to herself. Linc smiled ruefully, closed her door, then went around to climb in behind the wheel.

  Time to change the subject. “Do you know where the Shady Lane Motel is located?”

  His features tightened into a frown, but he nodded. “Yeah.” He started the car and threw the gear shift into reverse. “I’d rather take you someplace else.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Paying for a motel went against the grain, but no way was she going to risk putting Caitlyn and her friend Annette in danger by heading over to their two-bedroom apartment.

  “What about your sister?” Linc asked. “Is she okay?”

  “I called her this morning before work. She’s fine.” Jayme knew the apartment was in Annette’s name, which in hindsight was a good thing. “She promised to check in with me if she sees anything out of the ordinary.”

  “How long ago did she move out?” Linc asked.

  “Just last month.” She abruptly straightened. “Do you think this guy setting the fires isn’t aware of that? Maybe he thinks she’s still living with me?”

  “The way he torched your car makes me think you’re the target, not Caitlyn.” He glanced at her, then added, “But I’m glad you warned her about the danger.”

  “Me too.” She eased back against the seat cushion. “Better me be the target than her.”

  Linc drove for a while in silence. The Shady Lane Motel was on the outskirts of town and looked even worse than she remembered. She hid her reaction as Linc slowed down to take the turn.