Dancing with Fire

by Susan Kearney

  Sawyer knew Kaylin probably wouldn’t appreciate him coming to her defense, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Excuse me, ladies, but Lincoln freed the slaves over a hundred years ago. If your sister wants to take a trip—”

  “Becca’s right. That ticket was one-way . . . she wasn’t coming back.” Lia’s face turned bright red with fury, and tears brimmed in her eyes.

  Kaylin exchanged a glance with Sawyer and shook her head. Obviously, she wanted him to leave the arguing to her. He nodded. Fine. But he was on standby, ready to jump back in if she needed him.

  She faced her sisters and kept her voice calm and firm. “The ticket was one-way because I couldn’t afford to pay for round trip. I was coming back, Lia. I had lined up a short gig in New York. A friend of mine pulled a tendon, and she recommended me to take her place. I would have earned enough dancing to pay for a ticket home.”

  “When were you going to tell us?” Becca asked, her voice sad.

  “I was waiting for the right time. And then with Dad . . . I canceled.”

  “How long was the gig?” Becca asked. “Maybe you can still go. I could look after Lia.”

  “I don’t think I should leave now. It might have been for a month. It depended on how long it took her injury to heal.”

  “Mom would never have left me alone for a month,” Lia sniffed.

  “You wouldn’t have been alone. Mitzy and I would have been with you,” Becca told Lia.

  Mitzy nodded. “I already feel like we’re related. I wouldn’t mind looking after you, along with Billy.”

  Sawyer took in the pride in Kaylin’s face as Becca and Mitzy offered to help. These women might fight, but they were also strong.

  “Lia, when Mom died, I was the same age as Becca is now,” Kaylin reminded her sister, defending her position with a maturity that he admired. “And New York is only a two and a half hour plane ride away. If you’d needed me, I could have come back.”

  “That’s not the same as being here,” Lia muttered, but she was clearly getting over her shock.

  Kaylin rolled her eyes, and Sawyer almost grinned. “I won’t leave right now. Not since we all just lost Dad. But I’m entitled to a life, too. Get used to it. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, but I’ve put my dreams on hold—”

  “So it’s my fault that you aren’t dancing on Broadway?” Lia asked, her tone pitiful.

  “I didn’t say that. But I’m giving you fair warning. I’m not staying here forever.”

  Wow. Talk about being firm. Kaylin had never abandoned her dream of dancing. She’d just put it on hold. Good for her. Sawyer couldn’t have been more proud of her if she’d been his woman. And there was the rub. The more he knew about Kaylin, the more he liked her. But she’d just told them all she fully intended to leave.

  How ironic that when he’d found a woman who interested him, who intrigued him, she was determined to head out of state. Up north. Where it snowed. Despite the heat, he shivered. Sawyer didn’t like snow. His parents had died on an icy street, on a snowy gray day, during a vacation up north. He still remembered the cop coming to the hotel room door where he’d been holed up with a sitter. He couldn’t remember the cop’s words, just the frosty blast of air from the open door, the snowflakes swirling into the room and chilling him. Sawyer had eventually gone to college up north, but he much preferred southern weather. And Southern women.

  But now he understood Kaylin better. No wonder she’d isolated herself from having many friends or dating. She didn’t intend to stay.

  And now he was undecided. Because as much as he wanted to get to know her better, Sawyer didn’t want her to change her mind about dancing. Not when there was so much joy in her when she danced. How could he or her sisters deny her that pleasure? She had floated across that dance floor as if she defied gravity itself. He recalled the sensual sway of her hips, the erotic undulations of her body. He might not be an expert judge of dance, but he knew star quality when he saw it, and Kaylin had it in spades.

  Becca went inside to change her shoes and then left for work. Mitzy headed for her shift, too. Kaylin and Lia went inside, the ticket forgotten. Sawyer climbed over the bushes, picked up the two pieces, and stuffed them into his pocket. He wasn’t sure what he intended to do, but sometimes unused tickets could be exchanged. Now might not be the right moment, but someday Kaylin would get a chance at her dream.

  He only hoped he could make the biodiesel plant viable again while she was still young enough to have a shot at Broadway. Her father had always intended for Kaylin to leave to follow her dreams and had regretted he’d needed her too much at home to make it happen. Sawyer couldn’t help but want that opportunity for her, too.

  Damn, she was a fine woman. Gutsy. Independent. Sexy.

  At the same time, he didn’t see why they couldn’t spend more time together while she was here. It wasn’t like he wanted to hold her back. She might not see it that way, but Sawyer could be convincing once he set his mind to something. And he was set like concrete when it came to Kaylin.

  10

  “I HOPE IT’S not too late to call. I was wondering what you know about Dean Witman?” Kaylin asked Sawyer over her bedroom telephone, pleased when he’d picked up on the first ring.

  Earlier, with Lia upset over the airplane ticket no one was supposed to have seen, Kaylin hadn’t had the chance to ask Sawyer about the man who’d phoned about buying her father’s business. And when she’d looked for him outside later, intending to invite him for dinner, he’d already left. Disappointed that he wasn’t there, Kaylin realized how accustomed she’d become to Sawyer’s presence. Over the last week he’d become part of her life, an increasingly important part, one she was beginning to count on.

  Although it was after ten, she had too much on her mind to watch TV or sleep, and she wanted to settle her father’s affairs so she could get back to teaching dance next week. At least that’s what she’d told herself when she’d picked up the phone and called Sawyer.

  “It’s not too late to call,” he said. “We bought plastic tanks for storing the finished biodiesel fuel from Dean. He owns Witman Container. He supplied the soybean oil tanks as well as the methanol and wash tanks. Why do you ask?”

  “He called a few days ago. He asked me not to sell the business until I spoke to him.”

  Sawyer’s Southern accent strengthened, a trait she’d learned was a strong indication that he cared a lot about a subject. “You want to sell?”

  “Do you?” she countered.

  “I hoped we could make a go of the business.” Sawyer’s optimism sounded so much like her dad that she had to swallow the lump in her throat. She couldn’t believe how much she already missed her father. She needed him so much. But he was . . . gone.

  She ached for one last conversation. One more argument.

  So what if they argued sometimes? Who didn’t? Just because she and her father often disagreed didn’t mean she hadn’t loved him. Just because she was furious that he’d blown himself up didn’t mean she didn’t miss him. She missed their early morning talks when he’d read interesting bits from the newspaper to her. She missed filling his thermos with coffee, packing his sandwich, either egg salad or turkey with cranberry sauce (spread between the meat slices so his bread wouldn’t turn soggy), and adding a few of Mitzy’s cookies. She missed the twinkle in his eyes when he announced his next invention, one that would never come to fruition now. And she missed his excitement and passion for his work, which had been contagious. Living with Daddy was like always living on the verge of winning the lottery. Any day he might hit the jackpot.

  But as much as she loved and missed her father, he’d been a dreamer . . . and so was Sawyer. Her father could have easily taken a company job. So could Sawyer. They had the degrees to work in corporate America and earn a steady paycheck. But both of them wanted to go it alone. They were alike i
n so many ways. Too many ways for her ever to allow herself to be interested, despite the strong connection she felt with him.

  “Biodiesel has tremendous potential. Do you realize we can sell every drop we make?” Sawyer asked.

  “But can you really make it? Without blowing yourself up?” she replied. Kaylin didn’t mind working toward a dream, but she wanted one that was attainable. She believed in hard work. In what was possible. She wouldn’t hang her future on moonbeams and end up like her mother, working three jobs and dying an early death. When Kaylin fell in love, she was going to choose a man who lived in New York, someone who had health insurance and maybe a retirement plan.

  No way was she getting caught up with a dreamer who always believed his next invention would make them rich. She’d been disappointed too many times to believe anymore.

  Sure, Kaylin wanted her shot at the big time and Broadway. She and her mother had always planned that career for her. But she was also practical enough to know dance would always provide a living. If she couldn’t be the star, she might be in the chorus. If she couldn’t perform, she could teach. Her backup plans had backup plans.

  “Making the fuel is not the problem. Making it cost effective has been our goal. And between the break-in at the lab and your father’s suspicious visitors, I’m not ready to concede that the explosion was an accident. We should keep an open mind until we have all the facts,” Sawyer spoke carefully, his voice tight, his accent thick. “But . . . why don’t we speak to Dean and see what he has in mind?”

  She could tell by Sawyer’s tone that he didn’t think the offer would be a good one. Yet he was being reasonable. She couldn’t fault him for that.

  Sawyer’s voice changed, hardened slightly. “Dean also visited your father while I was gone.”

  “That’s right. You said he was on the security footage, wasn’t he?” She recalled the images of several men who’d visited her father. But she hadn’t remembered Dean Witman because they’d never met.

  “He was there and had a brief conversation with your father. Too bad we only had visual. No sound. I have no idea what they spoke about. However, your dad intended to buy more tanks.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “We were going to streamline the process. Use a better filter and replace the five hundred gallon wash tanks with larger ones.”

  “So Witman’s not in the biodiesel business?”

  “He’s a supplier. Not a producer. But it sounds like he may soon be our competition.”

  “Not if he buys us out,” she countered.

  “How about I pick you up for breakfast? Afterward, we’ll go talk to Dean, together.”

  “That would be great.”

  “See you at nine?” His voice was all business, and yet she sensed Sawyer was holding back, trying not to say more.

  “Nine’s good.” Kaylin hung up the phone, glad that Sawyer would prep her on the business before they went into a meeting and consult with her afterward if they got an offer.

  But although Sawyer hadn’t said much, she suspected that he would try to talk her out of selling. Trouble was . . . they owned it fifty-fifty. What happened if she and her sisters wanted to sell and he didn’t?

  She wished she’d asked Mr. Lansky that question. She could call him in the morning. Or maybe wait until after she’d heard Sawyer out. Perhaps she could talk him into selling or maybe into buying them out.

  Kaylin had finally drifted off to sleep when the phone rang. Groggy, she reached for it in the dark. “Hello? Hello?”

  At the hang-up, she swore and pressed the caller ID button. No number came up. Just “private caller.”

  Probably just a wrong number.

  To be certain they didn’t disturb her by calling back, Kaylin unplugged the phone and pulled the pillow over her head. She went back to sleep and slept without dreaming.

  The next morning, she woke up refreshed and glad to find that Lia seemed ready to return to school. Apparently Billy had talked her into going back. Billy seemed to have cleaned up his act, but Kaylin couldn’t be sure since he wore dark sunglasses, and she couldn’t see his eyes. They walked out the front door, gossiping about a mutual acquaintance, almost like normal.

  Mitzy left for work, and Becca had some errands to run, so Kaylin had the kitchen to herself. She poured a cup of coffee and drank half before she noticed the blinking light on the phone message machine.

  She hit playback. Five long silences. Five hang-ups. All of them the “private caller” ID. Kaylin wondered if someone thought their phone was a fax. That happened sometimes and the programmed machines just kept dialing. Six seemed to be the magic number.

  Still, she got up, called Randy inside, and locked the doors. Until they knew exactly what had happened at the lab, she planned to be careful. Perhaps she should have driven Lia to school . . . but she hadn’t been alone. Billy and Lia walked together. And Becca . . . was twenty. Old enough to take care of herself. However, with the care Becca had taken with her appearance this morning, Kaylin suspected her errands including dropping by to see Shadee.

  Maybe that was a good thing. Kaylin would feel better knowing Becca wasn’t alone, either.

  LIA DREADED HER return to class. She hated being the center of attention. She detested other people’s pity and there’d been enough stares over the years. She was the poor Danner kid whose mother had died. Now with Dad gone, the pity party would be even worse.

  If not for Billy walking beside her on the sidewalk through their neighborhood, she might have bailed and headed back home again. However, Billy wasn’t being a friend this morning. He’d smoked some pot in the garage right before they’d left the house.

  “You’re going to get caught. I can smell the weed on your jacket,” she’d complained after they were out of hearing range of the neighbors.

  “It’ll be gone by the time we get to class.” He grinned, his tone mellow. “And I’m not wasted or anything. Just had to take off the edge.” He reached into his pocket for a joint. “Want some?”

  Take off the edge? That would be awesome, but she didn’t dare mess with her mind. Lia already had enough to deal with. Kaylin had common sense and was good at dance and making money. Becca had the brains. Lia was the dumb, pretty blonde. She couldn’t afford to lose any brain cells.

  She flicked her fingers at the joint, and it sailed into a hedge. “Lose it. If you get caught, Kaylin might make you move out. She’s tougher than she looks.” Lia had yet to get over that airline ticket. Kaylin had been ready to leave. Sure, she’d said she’d come back, but she might have gotten all caught up in glamorous New York and forgotten about her family.

  And didn’t Lia sound lame? Most kids her age wanted nothing to do with their parents. They didn’t latch onto an older sister for courage. But those kids had parents. Lia didn’t.

  But she did realize how much Kaylin did for her. She was both mother and sister. Lia got it that she had her own dreams. That someday she would leave. She just didn’t want it to be now.

  “Stop for a sec.”

  At first she thought Billy meant she should stop thinking along those lines. But he’d halted, kneeled, and parted the greenery in search of his dope. Apparently he wanted her to wait for him. She grabbed his arm and yanked him up. “Imagine a sheriff’s cruiser rolling by.”

  Billy looked both ways down the empty street. “There’s no one here.”

  “I’m here.”

  Billy laughed at the idea of tiny Lia stopping him from doing anything. “You going to arrest me?”

  She sighed. “I like you better when you’re thinking straight.”

  “And I like you better when you aren’t telling me what to do.” He unclipped his skateboard where it hung from a short chain attached to his jeans, placed it on the sidewalk, and shoved off. On foot, no way could she keep up with him, and her
eyes brimmed with tears.

  Lia didn’t want to show up at school. Arriving alone was the worst. Kaylin would understand if she stayed home one more day. After all, she’d canceled dance classes for the entire week. Why should Lia have to go back this soon?

  11

  JUST AS KAYLIN hopped into Sawyer’s truck, her cell rang. “Sorry,” she tossed out an apology to Sawyer, then fumbled for her seat belt and answered the phone. “Hello.”

  Kaylin clicked in with one hand as Sawyer reached over and helped hold the seat belt. Then he backed out of the driveway and drove down the street. The neighborhood children had already left for school, but bikes, balls, and a catcher’s mitt were strewn across front porches, yards, and sidewalks. A neighbor out mowing the yard waved; another stared as she retrieved her Tampa Tribune.

  “Ms. Danner, this is Deputy Bryant.”

  “Yes?” Kaylin clutched the phone tighter.

  “Your father’s death has been ruled to be of undetermined origin.”

  “Undetermined? Does that mean you’re still investigating?”

  “Not unless we discover a solid reason for us to do so. We need more evidence to continue. I thought you’d like to know that the ATF found no evidence of his laptop. According to the official report, the explosion wasn’t severe enough to disintegrate his laptop. In other words, if it had been with him, we’d have found at least a few of the parts.”

  “So that’s it?”

  “The explosion has been ruled an accident. But if anything else comes up, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kaylin snapped shut her phone and stared blindly out the windshield. Just like that, the investigation was over, and her thoughts whirled as frustration roiled in her gut. “Deputy Bryant says that without any evidence, they have to rule the explosion as an accident. And he said if the laptop had been with Dad in the lab, they would have found pieces, but there weren’t any.”