Never Let Go

by Elizabeth Goddard

  Austin hadn’t heard about any random arsons in the area, but he would check on that too.

  “No. None.” Willow shook her head. “This is just too much. Maybe I heard the firemen wrong.”

  He hoped that was the case. Austin ignored Dana’s piercing stare. This wasn’t an issue to dance around or pretend wasn’t happening. Then again, maybe he was getting ahead of himself, like Dana had said. His world had been wrapped up for many years with the criminal element, so he was quick to jump on Willow’s suspicions, and maybe even conclusions. Still . . . if the house fire had been arson and hadn’t been random, there had to be a reason. Motive was everything. He drew on his law enforcement experience and asked the next logical question. “You might have heard them wrong, and let’s hope so, but humor me—are there any cases you’re working on? Something someone might be willing to kill over?”

  “There was only one project JT was working on when he died, and I took his notes home tonight.”

  Her words could mean nothing or they could mean everything. But Austin had every intention of taking Willow seriously.

  Chapter seven

  I took his notes home tonight. They’re gone now. Turned to ash. I really have lost everything.

  She pressed her face into her hands. But she’d already cried all the tears she had, and she hated crying. Anguish engulfed her. How much more could she take? For the first time in her life, she wondered if she would recover. Her heart and mind had been crushed in every way possible.

  “Willow.” Austin gently touched her arm. “Are you okay?”

  Oh, why did he have to be so gentle? Why did he have to care? Or even be here? Yet, that he was here meant the world to her. She didn’t want his presence, his caring touch to mean anything. At the very least, she shouldn’t let herself count on him too much.

  Except for Dana and her family, Willow was all alone now, and she had to be strong. But that wasn’t entirely true.

  Somewhere out there, she had a half uncle. He probably didn’t even know she existed. Her parents had been researching her father’s side of the family when they had come across her grandfather’s indiscretion that had resulted in a child. A half brother Dad hadn’t known about. The news revealed the big family secret. A discovery that happened more often in this day and age of DNA testing through genealogy sites than two decades ago when it first became available to genealogy enthusiasts. Though Grandpa Paul had known about the child, he had taken that secret with him to his grave. Of course, the child’s mother knew and the secret had eventually been shared because someone began making connections via genealogy sites for a complete medical history regarding some rare, genetic disease. That’s all Willow knew about it. She’d been young when it happened. JT had shared a few details later. Mom and Dad had been traveling to try to connect with Dad’s half brother when they’d died in a car accident.

  How did that make any kind of sense?

  Add to that all the years she’d worked with JT visiting cemeteries and reading headstones to connect the living with their ancestors. All the dead people she’d “reunited” with families, and Willow found herself alone. That was downright ironic.

  She pushed away the dark thought.

  JT’s whisper to her after her parents’ death drifted through her mind.

  “You’re not alone. God is always with you.”

  God would never leave her nor forsake her. But she couldn’t sense him with her. With everything that had happened, Willow felt like God was far from her.

  Then there was Austin . . .

  “Willow,” Austin said again. The bed shifted. The guy had actually sat on the bed, albeit near her feet, waiting for her answer.

  She lifted her head, wishing that he didn’t have to see her like this. She must look like an absolute wreck. “No. I’m not okay. You’re scaring me.”

  “Why? Because I’m taking you seriously?” His expression pinched, he scraped a hand down his handsome face. “You’re the one who said you overheard the firemen. Seems to me you were scared before I got here.”

  “I was more in shock than anything.”

  “Understandable.”

  “What the firemen said got lost in the trauma of the night, and then you showed up and I had someone other than Dana to tell. I was kind of hoping you would tell me that I’d heard wrong.”

  “For your sake I hope you did.”

  Her grandfather’s death was bad enough. Losing the house to a fire, losing everything was beyond comprehension. But . . . arson? She thought about the firemen’s words but still struggled to truly believe them.

  Austin punched in numbers on his cell, then held it to his ear, his gaze holding her prisoner.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Someone who can give me answers.”

  “Why? Austin, what are you doing?” Willow wasn’t sure why he would entangle himself with her again. Hadn’t they both been shattered enough before? Then again, she wasn’t sorry he had showed up, as long as he was only here to help.

  “I’m going to do what I do best”—he shot her a grin—“and get to the bottom of this. That is, if it’s okay with you.”

  The truth would put her mind at ease. But she gave him no definitive answer. Instead, she threw her legs over the side of the bed, ready to get out of there. And go where?

  The room tilted.

  Austin had never taken his eyes off her. Frowning, he ended the call, then stood. “You should get back in bed.”

  Willow appreciated his concern and the gentleness in his tone. She realized, too, with a little humiliation, that she was in a hospital gown.

  She glanced around the small room for Dana as though she could have somehow missed her. The bathroom door was wide open, so she wasn’t in there. “Dana? Where’d she go?”

  One minute she’d been eating and the next minute she’d disappeared.

  With the lines in his forehead deepening, Austin strode across the room and looked out the door. “She’s talking to a nurse.”

  He crossed his arms and remained by the door, his features taut.

  “What’s wrong?” Willow asked.

  “She doesn’t look happy. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s asking the nurse to remove me because I’m upsetting you. Am I upsetting you, Willow? Do you want me to leave?”

  How should she answer that? With his presence, her pulse had kicked up and stayed too high for comfort.

  “That’s just Dana. She’s protective of me.” She hadn’t exactly answered him, because she wasn’t sure what she wanted. But had she seen hurt in his gaze? If she were in his shoes, she’d probably feel the same way. After all, it took some nerve for him to show up here. Willow had to give him credit for walking in here without knowing how he would be received. She and Dana hadn’t exactly welcomed him with open arms.

  His expression turned contemplative. “Willow, can you tell me about the case your grandfather was working on? You said you’d taken his notes home. Then I want to know everything that happened tonight.”

  “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you aren’t with the FBI anymore, remember?” Ouch. She hadn’t meant it the way it sounded. “What I mean is—”

  “I’m not sure it would be a case for the FBI, but you should definitely talk to the police if you’re concerned.” His lips flattened. “I work with a network of ex-FBI agents in an organization called Ex-Agents International. I’m in the private sector now, instead of working for the government, that’s all. I’m still an investigator and I can help.”

  “You’re a private investigator then.”

  “Yes. JT had asked for my help on a cold case. He probably thought I was still with the FBI. Is that the case you’re talking about? The notes you took home? Or is it something else?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t mean to sound like I don’t want your help. I just don’t want to presume.” Getting tangled up with Austin, whether he helped with the cold case or investigated her suspicions about the house fire being arson, migh
t not be the best idea. But what did she know except that her head was pounding and she couldn’t think straight.

  “Nor do I. If you’d rather work with someone else, I understand. I was already set to contact JT for the details and then try to get information for him.”

  Though since he was no longer FBI, she guessed he couldn’t just walk into the federal building and get it.

  “I can look into the possible arson too,” he said. “I’m concerned—”

  “You really think that someone burning the house down last night has something to do with what JT was working on? That’s too farfetched.”

  “Willow, I’m concerned about you. Please let me help, giving you the same help JT had wanted on the case. We’ll know sooner or later if it was arson, and if it was, whether it was connected or not. But if someone did commit arson tonight, I want to be there to keep you safe.” His forehead crinkled with hesitation. “Just to be clear, I want to do this as a friend, not as a hired investigator.”

  His eyes said what his lips would not. It’s what JT would have wanted.

  Far be it from her to deny JT—his persuasive ways still reaching her from the grave.

  She searched Austin’s gaze, warning signals going off in her head. What are you doing, Willow Anderson? Why was she so indecisive when it came to this man? “Last night I decided I would wait until morning to read through his notes, but I had pretty much already decided I would call Mrs. Mason in the morning to tell her I couldn’t take her case. That I’m lacking in the skills my grandfather had, though I wouldn’t have worded it like that. But I can’t think straight since he died. I don’t know what I want to do now.”

  Hands in his pockets, he hung his head, let a few seconds pass, then lifted his chin and shoulders.

  “You’re right, of course. I’m pushing you. You’ve just been through two tragedies. You need time to recover. Time to make decisions.” His broad shoulders shifted lower as a deep sadness filled his eyes.

  A nurse entered the room, followed by Dana—fierce, protective friend that she was—and asked him to leave.

  “Take care, Willow.” Austin nodded and sent her a dejected grin before he exited the room—walking out on her just like he had two years ago.

  Chapter eight

  TUESDAY, 5:58 A.M.

  NORTHWEST HOSPITAL MEDICAL CENTER

  SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

  At his car, Austin unlocked the door and got in. Heart still hammering, he remained in his seat and stared, unseeing.

  One decision on his part could have the potential to turn his life upside down. He’d only meant to check on JT’s granddaughter to make sure she was okay. He clenched his fists. Come on. Couldn’t he at least be honest with himself? Willow had been much more to him than simply JT’s granddaughter. How did he go back to thinking of her as such? If she let him work with her, he’d have to find a way to bury for good that rush of emotion, that burn of attraction that came over him when he was near her.

  Pure torture.

  Facing the demons head-on wasn’t always easy. He already knew that from experience—that’s why he kept running from them and had previously let his past come between Willow and him. What was done was done. There would be no going back with her.

  That’s why he never should have stepped foot in her hospital room. Seeing her up close and personal had his head swimming.

  But he would never forgive himself if he walked away from this, walked away from her, and harm came to her. No, he’d have to see it through for JT . . . for Willow. And for himself.

  For all his lamenting, he might put it all to rest—say goodbye to Willow, this time for good—after a little digging. He’d investigate the question of arson, then if it turned out the fire hadn’t been deliberately started, he would walk away. He wouldn’t see her again. Besides, she had wavered far too much on whether she wanted his help, wanted him there or not.

  He pulled out his tablet and searched for information on the specific fire crew. Easy enough. The fire had been covered by the local news. He looked at his cell and started to call, then decided against it and entered the address of the fire station into the GPS. Better to show up and ask questions. It could take the fire chief days—and more investigators could be called in, adding weeks—before an assessment of arson was officially given. Austin could possibly find out all he needed to know today.

  Putting his cell away, he remembered that he still hadn’t returned Heath’s call. Emma had given Austin’s number to Heath, and his brother still hadn’t called him either. Or maybe Heath had suddenly had his world turned upside down too. Nah. What could go wrong at Emerald M Guest Ranch?

  Looked like reaching out, connecting again, was too much trouble. Maybe it was more that it opened too many old wounds.

  But he was wasting time sitting there reflecting on his mistakes. He started the car and tuned in Sirius Satellite Radio to an ’80s station, hoping it would yank him out from under the sudden heaviness that had come when the forces of the universe had conspired against him, throwing everything at him at once.

  He steered from the parking lot. Twenty minutes later he pulled up to the curb next to the fire station—Engine Co. 45. One of the newer stations, it appeared. He got out and hung by his car, studying the facility before he approached. Here’s where he would feel the big difference between his past job as an FBI agent and his current job as, well, without the glorified name of independent agent, simply a private investigator, as Willow had pointed out.

  If he were still an FBI agent, he wouldn’t be the one to investigate this fire unless it fell within federal jurisdiction, but if he were, then he’d walk in and show his badge and ask his questions. In his capacity now as a private investigator or bodyguard or whatever his previous FBI experience could afford him, showing his credentials didn’t give him the same power. He was no longer a Fed.

  But he knew more ways to find the truth than wielding a badge with the force of the US government behind it. Austin had to become . . . well . . . personable. Likable. People would rather open up to someone they connected with. That didn’t always come naturally to him, but it should be easy enough in this situation.

  He’d come to thank the guy who’d carried Willow out of the house and saved her life. He’d seen that much on the news. Austin approached the large station with a reserve engine parked in the garage and another in the drive. Only one garage door stood open. These guys worked twenty-four-hour shifts, so Austin could find the fireman he’d come to talk to at the station, though he might be getting his rest after last night.

  God, please let me find the answers.

  A short and stocky fireman wore boots with blue slacks and suspenders over a red T-shirt as he wiped and polished the side of Engine 45. Another guy, taller and skinnier than the first but dressed similarly, stood on the front bumper and squeegeed the windows. He approached the firemen. Short and Stocky glanced away from his task to acknowledge Austin’s presence, but his focus remained on cleaning the fire engine.

  “Can we help you?” he asked.

  “Sure. I’m looking for the guys who showed up at the Anderson home fire. I wanted to thank them, and especially the fireman who carried Willow out of the house and saved her life. I know it can be a sacrificial, thankless job. She’s very important to me.” All true, but he didn’t want to lay it on too thick.

  He held out his hand, hoping to make friends. Both men jumped from the engine and walked over and shook Austin’s hand. “How’s she doing?” the taller, dark-haired man asked.

  “She’s better, but still has a nasty cough. They’re releasing her this morning.” Austin had overheard the nurse reveal this detail as he left Willow’s room. “Thank you for all you did to save her.”

  “You’re welcome. All part of a day’s work.” Shorty grinned, then said, “Hey, Tim!” He called out toward the open garage. “Tim, somebody’s here to see you.”

  Tim didn’t appear.

  “Go on in and ask for Tim,” Tall and Skinny s
aid. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. Your friend is fortunate to be alive. That was one hot fire.”

  That’s exactly what Austin wanted to find out about. He wouldn’t go into the station for Tim yet if he could keep these guys talking. “Why do you say that? Was it hotter than other fires?” Why was it distinctive? He pursed his lips to keep from asking too many questions and spooking them.

  The two guys eyed each other. Short and Stocky was the one to speak. “The chief’s investigating. He’s at the house now. You should talk to him. The police could already be there too.”

  So the firemen decided to clam up. Too bad. But the fact that the fire chief was investigating told him enough. These guys, the first responders, had seen enough to raise their suspicions.

  “If you hurry, you could catch him there.” Tall and Skinny climbed back onto the bumper and started wiping the windows again, finishing what Austin had interrupted.

  The chief might be even less willing than these guys to share what he had found if this had officially become a criminal investigation.

  “Thanks, guys. I think I’ll go find Tim now to thank him personally, then I’ll be on my way. I know Willow will thank you as soon as she’s feeling better.”

  Austin entered the garage, passed the reserve engine, and walked through a door into the facilities. Down a hallway, he stopped at the kitchen and found a muscled guy, gray at the temples. “I’m looking for Tim.”

  “You’re looking at Tim. What can I do for you?”

  “They tell me you’re the one who carried Willow out of that burning house.”

  “She’s one lucky woman. We almost didn’t make it in time. A few more seconds and it would have been too late for her.”

  Austin thrust out his hand. The guy took it. “My name’s Austin McKade. I’m here to thank you for your courage.”