by Barb Han
Chelsea said a silent thank you for the fact the fire had been lit at the restaurant instead of at her home because it spared her mother and daughter.
“What were you doing there so late?” Nate asked.
“I’m so behind. I was trying to catch up.” She squeezed her eyes shut trying to block the roaring headache forming between her eyes.
He must’ve been paying close attention and reading the signs because he quietly said, “Try to rest. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
For the next few hours, hospital staff came and went, asking questions and marking charts. Chelsea managed to sit upright and sip water on her own. Her eyes, nose and throat still burned, but her lungs ached less.
Dr. Newman was the on-call physician. He was a squatty-looking man with a ruddy complexion and easy bedside manner.
“You’re lucky this man arrived when he did,” Dr. Newman told her. “You took a fall that most likely knocked you out.”
“That explains the horrible pounding going on back there.” She gestured to her crown after lifting her oxygen mask. She already knew that she’d taken a blow to the head and that Nate had probably defied orders and probably good judgment when he’d burst through the back door. He’d gotten to her before she’d succumbed to smoke inhalation.
“We were lucky,” Nate noted.
Chelsea would have to take the doctor’s word on falling. Her memory was fuzzy. She didn’t remember tripping or hitting her head. Now that she thought about it, she did remember hearing a voice and, for some reason, she thought she’d heard it before losing consciousness. A chill raced down her back.
She probably just had it mixed up with Nate’s or an EMT’s.
“Good news is that you can leave as soon as that drip finishes.” Dr. Newman motioned toward her IV bag. “But you have to put your oxygen mask back on a little while longer.”
Chelsea replaced the mask.
“We’ll get you out of here before you know it,” Dr. Newman said.
She liked the sound of that. She smiled at Nate and her heart performed that freefall routine whenever he was near. She’d missed him the last few days. She’d missed the comfortable way she had with him. Even from the start, and forget the fact that they were strangers, she’d felt at ease talking to him. Granted, her body reminded her he was very much male and she was all female every time the two of them were in the same room. But even with all that sexual chemistry pinging between them, conversation with him flowed effortlessly.
“Any chance you’ll let me give you a ride home later?” he asked.
It was either that or wake her mother up in the wee hours of the morning, who would, in turn, wake her daughter, and then come to pick Chelsea up from the ER. She was certain one of those ride-hailing services used in the city hadn’t made it out to these parts. Ordering a ride would be impossible and, since she knew only one person in town other than Nate, so far...
“I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” she said, lifting her mask to speak. “The more I think about what happened, the more I could swear I heard a male voice before I blacked out.”
“Head injuries can be tricky. Are you sure about that?”
“Not absolutely certain. And yet, that’s what I’m remembering.”
* * *
CHELSEA LEANED HER head back on the passenger seat of Nate’s truck. An hour had passed since the IV ran dry.
“Zach will stop by in a little while to get your statement. Make sure he knows about the voice,” Nate stated. She could almost hear the wheels churning in his mind.
“That fire wasn’t my fault. I didn’t do anything for it to start. I keep racking my brain for something...a kerosene lamp...something that could’ve started it. I didn’t so much as bring a space heater. I was cold while I worked but being inside kept the winds from freezing me. I was saving money on heat, so I had the thermostat so low I had to work in my coat and gloves.” She was probably going to catch the death of a cold because of it.
Nate’s forehead creased with worry lines. He white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Did you say the male voice sounded familiar?”
“Yes. But thinking back, I couldn’t tell you who it belonged to.” Her mind started clicking. “I can’t even be certain I’m remembering correctly except that it feels like I am.”
“Do you know what Reggie’s voice sounds like? No one’s seen him around town but that doesn’t mean he’s not here,” Nate said after a thoughtful pause.
“No. What would he have to gain if the restaurant is destroyed?” He’d come to her mind, too. But she hadn’t worked out a motive yet or where she might’ve heard his voice.
“He might want to scare you or run you out of town. Any word from the lawyer on who gets the home and the property if something happens to you?” he asked.
“Aunt Maddie didn’t say. But isn’t that obvious? I mean, even to a man like Reggie? I own the properties now. They’d go to my next of kin,” she stated.
“He might think he’d have a better court case if you weren’t in the picture. Or maybe he thinks you’ll abandon the properties and then he can make a play for them.” There was another option that he wasn’t stating.
“Or he could just hate me for being the one she left everything to and want revenge.”
Nate nodded as his gaze intensified on the road ahead.
“I’ll call Zach and ask if he can come right over. The fire marshal will investigate the fire as part of insurance requirements before payout. I’ll see if we can put some pressure on the investigation and get a verdict sooner.”
“What if I don’t have insurance?” She pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off a threatening headache. “I was still trying to decide which company to go with.”
“There might be an umbrella policy from your aunt. We’ll check into it,” he said to reassure her.
She sat there, trying to make sense of what had happened. Details were fuzzy. She wished she could pinpoint who the male voice had belonged to.
The back of her skull had a knot on it.
“My purse and my cell are back at the restaurant.” She hadn’t seen them since the fire.
“I know this sounds cliché and it might not be what you want to hear right now, but all those things can be replaced.”
“You’re right,” she said as he pulled into the drive.
“No one called your mother because we didn’t want her to worry.” He pulled up next to the house and parked.
“It’s better coming from me.”
A car was parked in the drive, causing Chelsea’s pulse to skyrocket.
“It’s Deputy Long. Zach sent him over to keep watch as soon as he heard about the fire,” Nate stated. “He didn’t want to take a chance with your mother and Skylar.”
“What if it’s my ex who started the fire. What if it’s Travis?” she asked as she put her hand on the handle.
“What would he have to gain?” Nate gripped the steering wheel.
“My daughter.” Travis had the most to gain if something happened to Chelsea. A wave of nausea nearly doubled her over.
She squinted through blurry eyes as she realized he was watching her.
“Let’s get inside and get you in bed. Food will go a long way toward making you feel better,” Nate said. His eyebrows were drawn together with concern.
Chelsea pushed open the door before he could get out and do it for her. He was at the passenger door before she could step out of the truck. She accepted his hand and then climbed out of the cab.
The sun was almost up. The lights flipped on in the kitchen. Her mother was awake. Thankfully, she was home and could explain everything before Linda worked herself up with too much worry.
Nate offered his arm and she took it, leaning much of her weight on him while ignoring the frissons of electricity pinging between them.
Lin
da was in the kitchen when Chelsea knocked on the back door. She swished the curtain over the top glass, saw Chelsea standing there with Nate, and immediately unlocked the door.
“What happened?” her mother asked.
Nate helped Chelsea to the kitchen table where she eased onto the chair.
“The good news is that I’m fine. The restaurant caught fire last night.” Chelsea did her best to hide her emotions. Breaking down would only make things worse. Somehow, Chelsea would figure out a way to get the restaurant back on track. And hadn’t she always been the strong one?
“I’m sorry, dear. You’ve been working so hard and I know how much the place means to you.” Her mother’s concern was genuine. It was odd for Linda to be trying to comfort Chelsea when normally it was the other way around. “If I know my daughter, and I do, you’ll figure out how to fix it and make it even better than it was before.”
A rogue tear slipped down Chelsea’s cheek as she embraced her mother.
Nate busied himself making coffee and she appreciated him giving her space to talk to her mother.
Rofert barked from upstairs and she’d never seen a person move as fast as Nate to reach him.
Chelsea pushed to her feet and did her best to keep up. She didn’t want Skylar waking up to a stranger. That bratty voice in the back of her head reminded her that Skylar was well acquainted with Nate. The little girl had asked for the fireman more than once in the past few days.
Chelsea had been able to distract her by bringing up the one male figure who could be counted on, Santa Claus.
Taking the steps three at a clip, Nate was at the top of the stairwell in no time. Chelsea’s lungs burned and she had to stop and grip the rail, which slowed her down considerably.
Rofert barked again from inside Skylar’s room.
Why was the door shut?
By the time Chelsea made it to the top of the stairs, Skylar was lying full-out on top of Rofert who was on his side.
“What happened?” Chelsea asked, out of breath.
“The door was closed and I’m guessing Rofert heard us downstairs. He must not have realized who we were,” Nate explained.
“It’s my fault,” her mother called upstairs. “I’m the one who closed the door so I could get some sleep from all that snoring.”
Chelsea leaned against the wall and slid onto the floor. All the stress she’d been under and now the fire collided in a perfect storm of crazy. No one could predict any of the things that had happened, were still happening.
As far as she could tell, there were two options. Laugh or cry.
She laughed to the point of tears.
Chapter Twelve
Nate listened as Chelsea recounted everything she remembered to Zach. Her first lucky break was his cousin finding and returning her cell phone and handbag intact. Somehow those had managed to make it out of the fire undamaged. It was a miracle and would save her time and hassle by not having to replace her ID, credit cards and whatever else she kept in her bag.
The first thing she’d done was dig inside her purse. She palmed what looked like a photo. The look of relief on her face caught Nate off guard at first. She’d gone for the photo without checking her wallet.
According to her, her whole life was practically stored inside her handbag. Based on Nate’s knowledge of his sister and cousin, Amy, that was probably true.
Linda had volunteered to take Skylar to school and Zach had sent Deputy Long to follow them, just in case. This wasn’t the warm welcome most folks got when they came to Jacobstown.
The attack at the restaurant was bold. Someone had gotten into the place undetected while she’d worked. To the best of her knowledge, Chelsea’d sworn that she’d locked the front and back door.
That part was unsettling to Nate.
Could someone have a key? That brought his thoughts back to Reggie. In fact, most roads led to that jerk. Nate’s hands fisted thinking about Barstock. He’d worn a smirk that didn’t sit well with Nate.
The fire marshal wouldn’t complete his report for a few days. They’d know then if the fire had been started from inside or out.
Chelsea had also brought up her ex, Travis.
Nate would be remiss to rule Travis out as a suspect.
“Travis said he’s been working for a pipeline in Alaska trying to earn enough money to win us back,” Chelsea told Zach. “I haven’t had time to check out his story and I’ve been relieved that it was quiet for the past week.”
Nate had forced himself to stay away from the little family of three. He’d busied himself on the ranch. It seemed like there was always something to fix or clean out back home.
“I can run a check on him with his legal name and social security if you still have it,” Zach offered.
“It’s in here.” She dug through her bag and fished out a wallet. She pilfered through it until she produced a social security card. “It was tucked in my wallet years ago from before he left. He’d asked me to hold on to it and must’ve forgotten he gave it to me. I kept it just in case I needed it. There you go.”
Zach snapped a picture of the card. “Did he mention where he might be headed next?”
“Actually, he was pretty insistent that he intended to stick around this time,” she reported. Her face twisted in a look of disgust. Her feelings for her ex were strong and Nate didn’t blame her. Any man who would clean out bank accounts and disappear while his wife was in labor was a class-A jerk and didn’t deserve a second chance unless he moved mountains to get it.
Nate would never treat Chelsea like that if the two of them were married.
He almost choked on the thought of marriage. Suddenly, his collar was too tight. He tucked his finger inside the top button and tugged to loosen it.
Chelsea must’ve yawned four times in a row. Zach stood and made eye contact with Nate.
“I’ll see him out,” Nate said to her.
“Great. I need a hot shower more than I need air right now.”
Chelsea didn’t need to go putting images of her naked in his mind. He’d thought about that kiss more then was good for either one of them. In fact, that kiss was a large part of the reason he’d kept his distance.
But she was in trouble and he couldn’t turn his back while she was in danger. Someone was targeting her. And the jerk seemed ready to do just about anything to make sure she stayed out of the way.
Nate walked Zach out the front door and stopped on the porch.
“You sticking around?” Zach asked.
“Yeah, why?” Nate must’ve sounded pretty damn defensive based on the look he got from his cousin, raised eyebrow included.
“Hey.” Zach’s hands rose in the surrender position. “I’m just trying to see what kind of manpower I need over here to make sure this family is safe. If you’re sticking around, I can use my resources elsewhere on the investigation and less on a protection detail. That’s all.”
“Got it. Didn’t mean to overreact,” Nate clarified.
“No problem. I’m glad you’ll be around. These three seem like good people and they look like they could use a friend,” Zach continued.
Nate nodded agreement. “I’ll give you a call if she remembers anything else.”
“It’s possible. Her brain could be blocking out the attack. Or, as her injury indicates, someone approached her from behind,” Zach stated.
“Who else has a key?”
“I’m not sure. She could’ve left one of the doors unlocked.” Zach looked away from the bright morning sun.
It was cold outside but the sun shining made a world of difference.
“Christmas is in a couple of weeks. Her ex might be getting sentimental about having his family back.” Nate was thinking out loud.
“True. I thought about that possibility. She could’ve been killed in the fire.”
“He
might’ve been watching from somewhere, even planning to play the big hero and save her once the blaze hit fever pitch,” Nate suggested.
“A twisted mind could think that, even if she died, a judge would grant him custody of his daughter and he’d get everything that little girl inherited.” Zach rubbed the scruff on his chin. “I’ll dig around in his background some more. Figure out where this guy’s been during the last four years.”
“Any word about Reggie’s background?” Before Zach could play the I-can’t-tell-you card, Nate put a hand up. “He’s a relative of hers and if I’m going to stay here, I’d like to know what I could be dealing with. We both noticed him favoring his left foot.”
“He’s been brought in a few times in the past ten years for petty crimes. The best I can tell, he works odd jobs. Nothing seems to stick, according to Chief Smith in Bossier Parish. I called in a favor to find out that Reggie’s been on the chief’s watch list for several crimes.” Zach’s and Nate’s cell phones went off at almost the exact same time.
They locked gazes for a split second before each taking a call.
“What’s going on, Deacon?” Deacon was brother number three in the Kent hierarchy and the next closest to Nate in age.
“I haven’t seen you much lately and I just heard a rumor about Reggie Barstock and a bad left foot...” Deacon started. “Any possible connection to what’s been going on at the ranch?”
“I’m at Chelsea McGregor’s house talking to Zach about that right now,” Nate admitted.
“I don’t have to tell you the longer we go without figuring out who’s responsible, the more people are starting to panic,” Deacon said.
Recently, Deacon and his now wife, Leah, had gone through an ordeal with a copycat killer. Her coworker, a detective with the Fort Worth PD, had become fixated on her after losing his child to illness and his wife divorcing him. He’d known enough about the case to cover up his killings by trying to make it look like the Jacobstown Hacker was attacking women on a jogging path in downtown Fort Worth. The path happened to be the same one that Leah had used every night at around the same time. The killer had been targeting her.