Slow Burn

by Ednah Walters

  She approached him, her anger increasing with each step. “Why are you bringing Aunt Estelle into this? She wouldn’t care one way or the other whether I recover my memory or not. No, I take that back. She’d encourage me to go for it.”

  Baron raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Forget about Mother. Tell me why you’d want to recover what your mind chose to block. Have you forgotten the nightmares?”

  She hadn’t forgotten waking up sweating, heart pounding and echoes of her screams still in the air. The worst part was always never remembering why. It was time she stopped letting the fear cripple her. If that meant bearing her darkest moments, so be it.

  Ashley plopped on a stool beside Baron’s, propped her elbow on the counter and rested her chin in her palm. She eyed her cousin and sighed. “It’s time I faced what I saw that night, Baron. I can’t stay afraid all my life.”

  “What did that bastard tell you?” Baron snapped.

  “Whoa.” Ashley leaned back, her eyes widening. “Enough already. What’s with you and the Nobles? Are you forgetting I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Ron’s father?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Then what’s wrong with you? What did you mean his family had hurt me enough?”

  Baron studied her guardedly, hesitated as if weighing his response. “There was a rumor that the fire was the work of an arsonist.”

  “I know that.” When he looked surprised, she added, “Ron told me. He’s trying to find out the truth about what happened. That’s why he was here.”

  His lips curled derisively. “Did he tell you the suspect was one of his relatives?”

  Ashley eyes widened. “What? Who?” Why hadn’t Ron mentioned it?

  “I don’t know. We…Chase and I overheard our parents discussing it. They even hired some guy, a private detective, to look into it.”

  “I know. I asked Aunt Estelle about it. She said the man found nothing.”

  Baron shrugged. “That doesn’t mean you can trust a Noble. One of their own started that fire.”

  “Rumored to have started it,” she corrected him. “You can’t base your hatred on a rumor, Baron. I mean, do you really think Ron would come to me for help if someone in his family was guilty of starting a fire that killed my parents?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I’d rather deal with facts. His father saved my life. I owe him something for that.” She went around the counter, opened the refrigerator door and retrieved a bottle of water. “So, I’ll go through hypnosis and share with him what I remember.”

  “As long as that’s all he wants.”

  The seduction Ron had pulled flitted in her mind. It had been perfect, darn it, felt right too. No time to think about that now.

  Ashley planted a hand on her hip and jabbed the water bottle in her cousin’s direction. “You have it in for this guy, don’t you?”

  “He has a reputation. A new woman on his arm every week. He’s supposed to run the L.A. branch of Neumann Security, but the man’s rarely in his office.” When Ashley raised her eyebrows, he added sheepishly, “I dated a woman who works for him. He’s always out. Probably chasing women.”

  Or fighting fires, she wanted to correct Baron. Although why she would want to defend Ron was beyond her. The man packed too much sensuality to be faithful. Based on his looks alone, she should have factored in player status. Lucky women.

  Not liking the direction of her thoughts, Ashley opened the bottle and took a gulp of pristine spring water. “I don’t care what Ron does or with whom.” Oh, the lies we weave. “But you’d better hide your feelings because you’ll be seeing him again.”

  Baron’s brow shot up. “Meaning?”

  Oh, she and her big mouth. She couldn’t dare mention the investigation. An idea popped into her head. “He’s going to be the model for my next series,” she fibbed without batting an eye.

  Baron burst out laughing. “You’re kidding.”

  Ashley scowled at him, irked by his reaction. She rather liked the idea now that she’d voiced it. “Why would I be kidding?”

  “The man is old,” Baron answered.

  “Seasoned.”

  “Over the hill.” He still didn’t bother to mask his amusement.

  Ashley pressed her lips together in annoyance. “He’s about your age, Baron. I don’t see you shuffling around with a cane. Beside, he’s a beefcake.”

  “Yeah, you’d think so. You don’t see men unless they’re on a canvas or through your lenses. You need to get out more.”

  “From what you said earlier, Mr. Smarty Pants, I’m not the only woman who thinks Ron Noble is hot. A different woman on his arm every week, remember?”

  Baron dismissed her comment with a shrug. “The man is the heir to Neumann Security. Fill in the blanks.”

  Ashley dropped her chin on the counter and gave her cousin a condescending look. Ron could be dirt poor, but he’d still be a magnet for women. The dreamy eyes, the world-class buns, the rippling muscles… She got heated just thinking about him. Baron, being a man, couldn’t see those attributes.

  “I’m the artist, and I say he’s just what I need.” She caught Baron’s amused expression and quickly added, “For the series.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “If you think he’s marketable, then who am I to question you.”

  That’s right. She never had to discuss the subjects for her paintings and wasn’t about to start now. Baron sold her pieces in his gallery and made a tidy sum for the both of them.

  Ashley took another gulp of her water and capped the bottle. “Now that’s settled, what really brought you upstairs?”

  “A cup of coffee.”

  She noted the way he avoided making eye contact. Baron had never been good at lying. “You must think I was born yesterday.” She got up to pour his coffee, brought it back to the counter and set it before him.

  “Thanks.” He accepted the mug and stood up.

  “I’m waiting, cuz, or is my coffee off-limit?”

  He laughed. “Faith was concerned after the two of you spoke. I promised her I’d stop by.”

  She was going to smother Faith. She loved her cousin dearly, but Faith’s overprotective instincts could drive anyone to plot her death. “As you can see, I’m a picture of perfect health.”

  “It’s a good thing I came up,” Baron added as he headed for the door. “Probably stopped Noble from charming more than hypnosis out of you.” He paused near the door to study her. “Ash, promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t trust him.”

  Unease coursed through her at his tone. Should she take the rumors about Ron’s relative being an arsonist seriously? “I can take care of myself.”

  “Good. I’d hate to see you get hurt by a Noble, again.” Baron opened the door and left.

  Eyes on the closed door, Ashley forked her fingers through her hair and dropped her forehead on the counter. The headache that had started earlier was now a hurricane slamming repeatedly against her temple.

  Could Ron be hiding something or was she allowing her cousin’s words to get to her? No, Ron wasn’t cold and unfeeling enough to seek her help if he already knew the identity of the arsonist.

  CHAPTER 6

  Ron gripped the steering wheel and squinted as he replayed the conversation between him and Baron Fitzgerald. How much did the man know? From his ‘your family has done enough to hurt her,’ probably quite a bit.

  The rumors, again. Unsubstantiated and damaging. For years, he had foolishly let them point him in wrong directions, doubting his father’s heroism. Chances were Ashley would, too, especially when the source of the information was a relative. Ron cursed under his breath. The last thing he needed was to have her turn against him. Not now.

  No one and nothing must stand in the way of this investigation. After the last letter and those pictures, he now knew this wasn’t a blackmail scheme concocted by some deranged person. Someone out there wanted him to find out what happened that night. He didn’t know or care about thei
r motive. The truth was out there and he’d be damned if he didn’t uncover it.

  He signaled to change lanes, glance in the rearview mirror and waited for a biker to pass. The biker didn’t, just slowed down. Ron switched lanes and entered a side street. Frowning, his gaze bounced between the street ahead and his rearview mirror. After a few more detours, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. Someone was tailing him.

  At first, he thought it was coincidence when the biker pulled behind him outside of Ashley’s building. With a helmet, aviator glasses and a beard, it was impossible to see his face, but then again, it didn’t really matter. His uncle’s men came in different shapes and sizes. They never bothered to make contact, just watched him and reported to his persnickety uncle.

  Good ol’ Uncle Gregory had assigned people to follow Ron since he’d become old enough to drink, and it wasn’t always because he cared about his welfare. The older man lived and breathed Neumann Security. Since his grandmother retired and his uncle started to run the company, all the executives were expected to follow the company’s code of conduct. Archaic couldn’t begin to describe the rules. Ron broke them so often, every meeting with his uncle and grandmother started with a lecture.

  Ron pulled up outside the building that housed Neumann Security Inc., but instead of getting out of the car, he watched the biker pull into the parking lot across the street. When the man glanced his way, Ron knew he hadn’t been mistaken.

  He left his car and entered the building. At the security desk, he quickly outlined to the guard what he wanted him to do before he headed toward the elevator.

  His usually poised secretary, Nicole Weber, was waiting for him when he stepped off the elevator, her blonde hair just a tad untidy and her glasses slipping down her shiny nose.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” Nicole said in a way of greeting, then pushed her glasses in place and glared at him.

  “Let me guess,” Ron said with a slight grin. “You’ve been trying to get hold of me the whole day.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir?” He shot her a glance from the corner of his eye. She dogged his footsteps, an imposing figure in six-inch heels. He didn’t know how she could balance her five-foot-nine frame in those narrow spikes. “What have you done with my real secretary? You know, the sassy woman who never curbs her tongue and is allergic to the word ‘sir’.”

  “I’m not yet done…sir. Your mother’s assistant didn’t know where to find you. The dispatcher at the Kern Valley whatchumicallit—”

  “Hotshot…the best wildfire firefighters in the state,” he supplied.

  “Needs lessons in phone etiquette,” she finished as though he hadn’t spoken. “She thought you were still at the conference in San Diego. Even after I told her that I spoke with some of your buddies.”

  “Okay, Nikki, out with it.” He stopped walking all together to stare at her. He couldn’t recall ever seeing her so rattled, except….

  “He is here,” she whispered.

  Only one person had that effect on her. “When did he arrive?”

  “This morning. He and the boys are in your office. I didn’t know what to do when he asked for the McClain Group file. I tried to hold him off, but he threatened to fire me.”

  “He can’t fire you.”

  “He can’t? Are you sure?”

  Ron smiled reassuringly at her. “I run this branch, not my uncle. Why didn’t you just call me on my cell phone?”

  She gave him a disgusted look. “I tried. It kept going to the voice mail, so I, uh, gave him the file and—”

  “It’s okay, Nikki. And thanks for the warning.” Then he pushed the door open and stepped into his office.

  Papers and files were all over the coffee table, the sofas and his desk. Across the coffee table from his uncle was Stanley, his uncle’s younger son. Occupying Ron’s desk was the other son, royal pain-in-the-ass William. The three of them looked up when he stepped into the room.

  His uncle’s face was unreadable as usual. Stanley was so much in awe of his adopted father he had a perpetual whipped-puppy expression. The defiant, angry glance William shot Ron lasted only a few seconds before a polite mask slid into place, but he hadn’t expected the red carpet. William resented not having Neumann blood in his veins. Stanley, on the other hand, couldn’t care less.

  “Uncle Gregory…guys, what a surprise seeing you all here.”

  “Good afternoon, Ronald. I heard you were at a firemen’s convention.” His uncle didn’t bother to look up as he spoke. His gaze stayed on the pad before him. “I was told you weren’t due back until Saturday.”

  Which one of his employees was his uncle’s spy? Knowing the old man, he probably had several.

  “I needed to come back early.” Since his uncle didn’t care a rat’s tail about anything outside work, he didn’t bother to elaborate. Instead, Ron turned to stare down at William, who still sat behind his desk. “Do you mind?”

  William was a year older than he, Stanley two years his junior. When they were younger, the two would gang up on him and beat the crap out of him. They got him in trouble with both his grandmother and his uncle more often than he cared to count. Things changed when he’d turned thirteen and hormones kicked in. Now a mean look was all it took to keep them at bay.

  Without a word, William jumped up from the chair and started to gather the papers on the desk. When Ron spied the contract from McClain Group, he reached for it at the same time as William. A tug of war ensured.

  “Let him have it, William.” His uncle gazed at Ron from the rim of his glasses. “I told him to use your desk, Ronald. There’s no need to act childish.”

  Ron ignored the dig, waited until William joined his brother and father around the coffee table before he said, “Nikki told me you requested to see the file on McClain Group, Uncle Gregory. What’s going on?”

  “We are not the only west coast firm vying for the McClain Group contract for this region, that is what’s going on,” his uncle said impatiently. “We need their account to put this company in the national limelight where it belongs. I know you and McClain’s son had set a meeting for next week.” He patted William’s back. “My boy here convinced McClain Senior to push the meeting forward.”

  Ron ignored William’s triumphant look and fixed his gaze on his uncle. It was true that Neumann Security was a regional company, with offices in Nevada and California only. Working with McClain Group, with its chains of hotels and retail stores, would give them a lot of national exposure and an edge in the competitive world of security and surveillance. “I see. Where and when?”

  “Five o’clock tomorrow at their head office in New York. I expect you to be at the airport tomorrow morning at nine, Ronald. We’ll leave at nine-thirty.”

  A five o’clock meeting could go on until late at night. To make it to Ashley’s place on Saturday morning, he’d have to catch the red eye, if he was lucky. “Damn.”

  “If you have a prior engagement, Ron, I can close the deal for you,” William offered.

  I bet you would, you self-righteous prick. “I’ll be there,” his told his uncle firmly, ignoring his cousin.

  His uncle jerked his chin toward the door. “William, Stanley, I need to discuss something with your cousin. Wait outside.”

  While his cousins packed up and left the room, Ron walked to the window and searched for the biker. He was still there. When his uncle cleared his throat, Ron turned around and resigned himself to another lecture.

  “I don’t care what plans you have lined up, Ronald,” Gregory stated firmly, “I want you on the jet first thing tomorrow morning. You must focus on this deal and nothing else. We can’t afford another screw up.”

  The muscle ticking on Ron’s cheek was the only sign that he resented the talk down. So what that he chose to be by a friend’s side after a fire accident rather than make a meeting, big deal. He’d made up for it several times over, but his uncle was determined never to forget it. “Why are you asking me to accompany yo
u if you’re so sure I’ll mess things up?”

  “McClain’s son insisted that you be there. William could easily have finished the negotiation. He knows the inner workings of this company, but we must go with our client’s wishes.” His uncle got up. “Just remember what I told you. No screw-ups. If you think you can’t give it your best shot, do me favor and let me do the talking.”

  Not if he could help it. This was his deal. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.” His uncle removed his glasses to scowl at him. “Now, what’s this nonsense I hear about you investigating the fire at Carlyle House?”

  Ron blinked, totally blindsided. How did he find out? His mother had promised to keep everything to herself. “I’d hardly call it nonsense, sir. Someone out there suspects an arsonist started the fire and wants me to find out who it was.”

  A disdainful laugh escaped his uncle. “The fire happened ten years ago. No one cares about how it started.”

  “I do. I want to prove that the rumor about my father starting it was false. So does Mom.”

  His eyes became cold. “I don’t know who started the rumor. It’s not true. Convince your mother of that and stop this investigation.” He put his glasses back on and picked up his suitcase as though the matter was closed and then started for the door.

  Blood roaring in his ears and heart pounding, Ron took a few steps forward and effectively blocked his uncle’s path. At six-one, the older man was a couple inches shorter than Ron, but was wider in girth and in great shape for someone his age. All in all, an imposing figure, but this was one time Ron wouldn’t be intimidated. There was too much at stake.

  His uncle stopped short, glared at him. “What are you doing? I have an important meeting in exactly,” he glanced at his watch, “thirty minutes.”

  “This is important, too, sir.” He searched his uncle’s furious expression. “How did you know I was investigating the fire?”

  “Stop wasting my time, Ronald.” His uncle glowered. “If you have something to say to me, say it,” he snapped.