by Lisa Childs
“It’s just my job,” he reminded her. He stopped fires—no matter where they were or how dangerous. He’d had some equipment in the back of the truck. Oxygen and an extinguisher.
“You could have been killed,” she said.
He tapped the paper. “And so could you.”
“What is that?” Kim asked again.
Dawson flipped open the paper and read aloud, “‘Miss Kincaid, you are wasting your time with stories about your boyfriend. You’re a joke as a journalist. I am the real story. If you won’t report about me, you won’t report about anyone anymore.’”
Kim gasped. “Avery! You’re in danger!”
Avery shook her head. “No…”
His hand shook as he folded the paper over again. “He tried to kill you!”
She shivered. And he regretted his harshness. She had already been through so much. But if she’d been open about her contact with the arsonist, he could have protected her. He could have made certain she was never in danger—the way she’d been that morning.
He brought her purse from where he’d been holding it behind his back. He had retrieved that, too. “There are two more notes inside.”
She gasped. “You went through my purse?”
He’d been inside her body. Had pulled her out of a burning house. What the hell did she care about her purse? He would never understand women.
“You went through my drawers,” he said.
Kim gasped. “Maybe I should leave—”
“The drawers beneath my bed,” he explained. “I had a scrapbook in one of them.” That must have been how she’d found out about Martin. “You snooped through my whole house.”
Her face flushed.
“And you should have turned over these letters long ago,” he said.
“I only got the first one a couple of days ago,” she said.
Kim nodded. “When you asked me about the fire. That’s your source? An anonymous note?”
More like ominous. He’d threatened her. And he’d made good on that threat.
A fist knocked on the door to her room.
“Come in,” she called out, almost eagerly. She obviously didn’t want to talk about the notes she’d been receiving or she would have brought them up days ago.
She should have.
The door opened to Zimmer’s serious face. Cody and Wyatt filed in behind their boss. “Are you okay, Ms. Kincaid?” Braden asked.
She nodded. “What about my house?”
“The fire’s out,” Wyatt said. “It was pretty much out when we got there thanks to Dawson spraying the fire retardant around.” He turned toward him and added, “There really isn’t much damage—just that side wall of the bedroom.”
Where she’d been sleeping…
If he hadn’t made her leave the campsite, she would have been with him. He shouldn’t have made her leave. He hadn’t known about the notes. But he’d been pretty certain that someone had been inside her house, had been watching her from behind the trees in her yard. He should have made certain she was safe until she got on that plane to Chicago.
“There was so much smoke,” Avery murmured. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How could there not be much damage?”
She thought his friends were lying to her.
“There was more smoke than flames,” he explained. He’d seen that when he’d put it out. The smoke had come from the gasoline-soaked hay bales that had been lit right outside her bedroom window.
“We should discuss the details outside,” Braden said. “So we don’t disturb Ms. Kincaid. She’s already been through a lot.”
Dawson sighed. “She knows.” He handed the letters over to his boss. “The arsonist has been sending her notes.”
Zimmer glanced over the pages. “Threatening notes…”
“He tried to kill her,” Dawson said. And he knew why—because she’d run the special feature on Dawson rather than reporting about the Northern Lakes arsonist.
“No,” she said, probably to soothe her sister’s fears. After what had happened, she couldn’t deny that she was. And she couldn’t deny what she knew.
Neither could they.
“She is in danger,” he said. “That’s why she needs to leave now. The doctor said her lungs are fine. He will sign her release.”
“But my house…” Avery murmured.
“Can be fixed when you’re back in Chicago,” Dawson said. He had to believe she would be safer there than in Northern Lakes. The arsonist wasn’t likely to follow her to Chicago. If the hot spots were anything to go by, so far he had stuck around the village. “You need to go home, Avery.”
Her eyes widened with confusion. “Home?”
“To Chicago,” he said. “This isn’t your home. This is just the place you came to track down a story.” And she’d done her job as well as she always seemed to do. She’d tracked down the story so well that she’d nearly gotten killed.
He didn’t care now that she’d done the report about him. He didn’t even care if she reported about the arsonist. But he refrained from telling her that—especially in front of his coworkers. He could feel Zimmer’s anxiety. Even though the superintendent had suspected that the arsonist had contacted her, he’d hoped it wasn’t true. He kept reading and rereading the notes he held.
But Dawson ignored him and the other two men. He turned to her sister instead. “You tell her,” he urged Kim. “She’s in danger here. And her being here will put you and your kids in danger, too.”
Kim’s eyes widened with fear now. She’d already almost lost her sons.
Avery gasped. “I would never—”
“You will if you stay here,” he said.
He needed to get her to leave—for her safety more than her sister’s or the boys’. In order to protect her, he had to let her go. Not that he’d ever truly had her. She’d never really been his. She’d only been using him. But he didn’t care about that now. He cared only about making sure she didn’t get hurt physically. But in order to do that, he might need to hurt her emotionally.
So he drew in a deep breath and forced himself to be cruel. “You need to get the hell out of Northern Lakes. Now.”
18
AVERY HAD SEEN Dawson furious. She’d seen him passionate. She’d seen him brave and stoic. She’d never seen him like this—so cold. Colder even than he’d been the night before at the campsite. So cold she shivered.
Kim pulled up a blanket for her, but as she did, her hands shook. He had scared her sister. And Kim had already endured enough fear to last her a lifetime.
“You shouldn’t have said that,” she chastised him.
“What?” he asked. “The truth? The whole damn town knows you don’t belong here anymore. Just go back to your big city and your big career, Avery, and leave the rest of us alone.”
Tears stung her eyes, so she squeezed them shut. She knew now that he would never forgive her for doing that special feature. Whatever they might have had was ruined; she’d ruined it. When she opened her eyes again, he was gone.
Cody and Wyatt had left, too. But Superintendent Zimmer had stayed behind—along with her nervous sister.
“He’s wrong,” she told Kim. “I’m not putting you and the boys in any danger.”
But Kim wouldn’t meet her gaze. She glanced at the superintendent instead—as if seeking his assurance. “Was it arson?” she asked.
“Today?” He nodded. “Definitely.”
“The other fire,” she said. “The one that would have killed my kids if Dawson and the others hadn’t saved them. Was that fire arson?”
Superintendent Zimmer glanced to Avery and shook his head.
“So, no?” she asked, almost hopefully.
Of course it was better to think that the fire had been an accident than that someone had deliberately tried to kill her children.
“Was Dawson wrong?” Kim asked.
Zimmer hesitated. He probably didn’t want to contradict his assistant superintendent, but he wasn’t w
illing to admit the truth, either.
“He won’t answer you in front of me,” Avery said. “If he confirms that it was, I can run the story.” That was why the report hadn’t been made official. After the state police had told her the US Forest Service was in charge of the investigation, she’d checked with them and been told it was ongoing.
Despite the Freedom of Information Act, the government agency could exempt reports from disclosure if the public learning anything would compromise an ongoing investigation.
“Even if you had confirmation,” Zimmer carefully replied, “you would be foolish to run a story about an arsonist.”
“Why?” she asked. “Because then the public could be more vigilant? Because then they could protect themselves from a future fire?”
“You knew,” he said. “You couldn’t protect yourself.”
“I didn’t do what he wanted,” she said. “I didn’t run the story about him.” She’d run it about Dawson, instead. And she’d pissed off both of them.
Zimmer nodded. “That’s what feeds an arsonist,” he said. “If you give him any attention, he’ll start more fires. He’ll want more and more attention. It’ll never be enough.”
Kind of like her and Dawson. No matter how many times they’d made love, it had never been enough. At least, it hadn’t been for her. Apparently he’d had enough because he wanted her gone.
“Dawson was right,” his boss said. “You should go back to Chicago. Your being here incited him—gave him reason to hope that he’d get that attention.”
“So you’re saying everyone will be safer if I leave?” she asked.
Zimmer gave her a grim nod.
“I wasn’t here when he started that first fire,” she pointed out. And now she was angry. “I wasn’t here when the previous hot spots flared up, either. I’m not letting you or Dawson blame me for what this guy has done.”
Kim reached out and squeezed her hand. “Nobody’s blaming you.”
Despite her sister’s reassurance, Avery wondered if Kim didn’t want her to leave, too—like everyone else. Her heart ached over Dawson’s coldness and what he’d told her. Until he’d said that Northern Lakes wasn’t her home, she hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted it to be. There were no opportunities for her here, though. Career or otherwise.
And if she didn’t go back soon, she would probably lose her job.
“What about the story, Ms. Kincaid?” Zimmer asked.
Her head began to pound with weariness and from the smoke. “Will you confirm that it was arson?” she asked.
“I told you why I won’t,” he replied. “I believe it will put the town in more danger.”
“Then I can’t run the story,” she said.
Kim squeezed her hand. “But won’t that put you in more danger? Won’t he try to kill you again?”
She was afraid, but she refused to show that to her sister. So she just shrugged. “I can’t run an unsubstantiated story.”
Zimmer expelled a shaky breath. “Thank you. And I’ll make sure that if you decide to stay, you’ll have protection.”
Like her, he knew it wouldn’t be Dawson. She doubted he would be her hero ever again.
*
“WHAT THE HELL are you doing here?” Dawson asked the minute she opened the new door to her cottage. He’d broken down her last one. He’d been tempted to break down this one, too—swing her over his shoulder and haul her off to the airport.
But now that she’d opened it, he just wanted to haul her off to the bedroom. She looked beautiful and more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. Her skin was pale; she hadn’t completely recovered from the smoke inhalation she’d suffered.
“This is my home,” she replied defiantly. “No matter what you say.”
He’d struck a nerve when he’d said that—one he hadn’t expected. He’d just wanted to convince her to leave, to go back to Chicago. Maybe he hadn’t been trying to protect only her when he’d done that. Maybe he’d been trying to protect himself, too.
“Your life isn’t here,” he said. And he worried that if she stayed, she wouldn’t have a life. The arsonist would end it for her unless…
“I have more here than you do,” she said. “I grew up here. I have my family here.”
“My friends and my job are here,” he said. “So you’re just giving up your career, then?”
“Of course not.”
“But you haven’t gone back to Chicago.”
“I wasn’t in Chicago when I did the special feature on you,” she pointed out.
“So you’re still working,” he said. “You’re doing a report about the arson?”
She shook her head.
“Why the hell not?” he asked. And his fury returned. Was she deliberately taunting the arsonist? The note had been clear; he wanted her to report that the fire was arson or he would hurt her.
Her brow furrowed with confusion. “Because your boss explained why I shouldn’t.”
“I told you not to run the report on me and you ran it anyway,” he said. And his pain and resentment returned. He could never trust her again. But even still, he couldn’t stop himself from caring about her—about her safety.
“This is a little different,” she murmured.
“Damn Zimmer,” he said. It wasn’t fair for the superintendent to risk her life. “He’s putting you in danger.”
“Better me than more innocent lives,” she said. “And why do you care whether or not I’m in danger?”
“Because I…” Why did he? Did he love her? He refused to consider it. He couldn’t give his heart to a woman he didn’t trust. When she’d run that report, she’d betrayed him. Maybe she hadn’t made any promises to him. Maybe she hadn’t lied to him. But she’d known he didn’t want the media attention and she’d run the story anyway.
“What?” she persisted. And she leaned toward him, as if eager for his answer. “I thought you were furious with me.”
“I am,” he said. “And you knew I would be.”
“I thought you would change your mind about the special feature,” she said, “once you saw it.”
The report had been a great tribute to Martin in a way. But it had also brought up that pain again. “You thought it would get you more airtime,” he said. “That was the only reason you did it. For your career.”
“Dawson—”
“Ironically you could have cost me mine.”
She tensed. “What do you mean?”
“No one knew about the connection between me and Wyatt,” he said. “I was lucky Zimmer didn’t kick me off the team. I’m lucky Wyatt didn’t ask him to.”
She gasped. “I—I am so sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“Maybe you should have done a little more research,” he suggested.
“I would have,” she said. “If you would have talked to me.” She stepped closer to him. “This is the most you’ve talked to me.”
“I just…” He wasn’t much of a talker because it wasn’t easy for him to express himself with words. It was easier for him to show her how he felt. So he reached out and brushed his fingertips across her cheek.
She gasped at the touch, and her face grew paler than it had been.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Maybe she was still suffering from the smoke inhalation.
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “Because I don’t think it’ll matter how many times I apologize. I don’t think you’ll ever forgive me.”
He could forgive her; he just wouldn’t be able to trust her again. “Avery…”
“Please,” she murmured. She stepped closer, stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips along his jaw. “Please forgive me…”
He lowered his head so that her lips brushed across his. There was a tenderness to their kiss that had never been there before. He had come too close to losing her—not just to Chicago and her career, but forever.
If her sister hadn’t kept him talking…
If he hadn’t smelled the smoke…
If
Avery hadn’t awakened and gotten down on the floor…
“I can forgive you,” he said, “if you leave.”
She pulled back. And her turquoise eyes were bright with tears.
“You really want me gone that badly?”
“I really want you safe that badly,” he admitted.
Her lips curved into a smile. “You care about me,” she said.
“Of course I care.”
“I care, too,” she said. “I’ve missed you…”
He had missed her, too. So badly…
He kissed her again—passionately. His body tensed, the ache he’d felt the past couple of days intensifying.
She caught his hand in hers and tugged him toward the other side of the house. “I’ve been using the bedroom on this side.”
She led him to the second bedroom. It was smaller than the smoke-damaged one. An old brass bed nearly filled it. She tugged him toward the bed, but it was as if the effort exhausted her because she settled onto the edge of the mattress. And the ancient frame creaked.
He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Are you really all right?”
“I’m fine,” she told him. “Completely recovered.”
“It’s only been a couple of days…” A couple of days that he’d worried about her constantly. A couple of days until he’d dropped by her sister’s with the excuse of visiting the boys. Kim hadn’t been fooled, and she’d quickly shared with him that Avery hadn’t left. And that she’d insisted on staying in her smoke-damaged house rather than moving in with her. She hadn’t wanted to risk the safety of Kim or the boys. And she had asked Zimmer to send the state police officer he had offered for her protection to her sister’s.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Or I will be if you forgive me…”
“You will be if you leave,” he said. “You need to go back to Chicago.”
She shook her head.
“Kim told me your boss ordered you back.” Her job meant everything to her, so why was she risking it?
Unless she was compiling more details to report about the arsonist?
“I’ll leave soon,” she said. “But I don’t want to leave with you angry with me.”
All that anger and betrayal he’d felt began to ebb away. He touched her face again, skimming his fingertips along her jaw.