Slow Burn

by Ednah Walters

Ashley fished the cell phone from her bag, saw that it was Ron’s number, then pressed the button to switch off the ringer. She would call him back later. Her gaze shifted to Vaughn’s driver as he stepped out of the limo. This one was older, taller and thinner than the one with Vaughn a few days ago, she noted. In his ears were diamond studs. A memory teased her mind and quickly disappeared. Then he looked up and their gaze connected.

  I know those eyes. Piercing. Gray. Lifeless. The thought crossed her mind as air rushed from Ashley’s lungs. Something cold settled in her gut, and her heartbeat took on an odd rhythm. She couldn’t remember where she’d met the man before or explain the sudden urge to flee.

  The driver smiled, and Ashley blinked in confusion. Something was wrong with his face. Maybe it was the artist in her, but the shadows and planes on either sides of his face were at odds with each other. A brief and uncertain smile crossed her lips. When the man walked stiffly to the back of the limo to open the door, she sighed with relief. A short-lived one because Vaughn stepped out, balloons and flowers in his hand.

  “Ashley Fitzgerald,” Vaughn said, flashing a grin. “What a surprise meeting you here.”

  “Yes, it is,” she answered politely, then gave his balloons and flowers a fleeting glance. She could feel his driver’s gaze on her, giving her the willies. The urge to flee intensified.

  “Is someone ill?” The question was perfunctory. She didn’t really care.

  “A family friend.” He passed the balloons and the flowers he was carrying to his driver then took her hand in his. His gaze ran over her casual attire then settled on her face. “What about you?”

  “My uncle was in an accident.” The intensity of his gaze made her uneasy. When he skimmed the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, she barely stopped herself from snatching her hand away.

  “Oh, I’ve got the hankie you loaned me.” She tugged her hand, forcing him to release it. Her cell phone vibrated as she reached inside her bag for the handkerchief. She didn’t have to look at it to know it was Ron. She ignored it, unzipped a pouch and pulled out the washed and pressed handkerchief. She offered it to Vaughn. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

  Vaughn’s gaze volleyed between the piece of cloth and her face. “You’re angry with me.”

  No, I just don’t trust you. A shiver ran down her spine as he moved closer and invaded her space. His cologne, strong and musky, clawed at her senses. For a brief moment, she could hardly breathe. If only she could blink and make him and his driver disappear. She took a step back and gave a brief laugh to cover her reaction.

  “Why should I be? You were kind enough to stop and offer me help when you thought I needed it.” When he accepted the piece of cloth, she smiled. “It was nice to see you again, Vaughn. Take care.”

  Ashley pivoted on her heels and started toward a bunch of trees to the left of the parking lot. She could feel Vaughn’s eyes digging holes into her back. It wasn’t easy to ignore his presence or his driver’s. There was an aura of danger emanating from the two men, she just wasn’t sure she could trust being in their company without showing her fear. It was funny how she hadn’t felt threatened during their first meeting. Maybe the alarming hungry look in his eyes now had something to do with it, or maybe it was the driver’s presence.

  “Ashley, wait up.”

  Run. Would she look ridiculous if she did? Would it matter? Pride made her hesitate and stop.

  “May I walk you to your car?” Vaughn asked when he reached her. “It’ll give me a chance to explain this misunderstanding between us. I think you already know that my last name is Doyle.”

  I don’t care, she wanted to say. “Yes, I do.”

  He took her hand in his, again, looked over his shoulder as though making sure his driver was still there. The old man watched them with narrowed eyes. Vaughn turned his attention to Ashley.

  “I wasn’t trying to mislead you by using the name Ricks,” he explained, his voice low. “Ricks is the name I used most of my life until my father decided to recognize me as his son and asked me to change it.” He shrugged. “I’m not saying this so you can feel sorry for me. I just need to make you understand that I didn’t set out to deceive you.” He flashed a smile, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin under her wrist. “I still tend to think of myself as Vaughn Ricks, not Vaughn Doyle.”

  Smooth, but was that why he lied? Somehow, she couldn’t see this over-confident and pampered young man as an unwanted son. And why couldn’t he stop pawing her? She tried to ease her hand from his, but his hold firmed. Panic sliced through her.

  Quit acting like a ninny, Ashley. What could Vaughn possibly do to you in broad daylight? She glanced around from the corners of her eyes. His driver might be only a few feet away from them, but there were enough people around the parking lot to hear her if she yelled for help. Besides, she had taken enough self-defense classes to scratch and kick her way out of any situation.

  Heart thundering despite her silent pep talk, her chin shot up. “Thanks for the explanation, Vaughn, but it wasn’t necessary. I really must go.”

  His fingers briefly tightened around hers.

  She tugged.

  “I always insist on walking a lady to her car,” he countered, his grip shifting to her elbow.

  Annoyance coursed through her. She pulled her arm away from his hand and took a step back. “Then you’re in luck today, Vaughn. I’m no lady.”

  For a brief moment, he appeared unsure of himself, looking very much like a child playing grownup. Ashley took the opportunity to add, “Besides, I didn’t drive here. A friend dropped me off and he’s coming to pick me up in a few minutes.”

  His lips tightened. “I won’t be long in the hospital. I could give you a ride if you like, maybe stop somewhere for a cup of coffee.”

  Did she have to spell it out that she wasn’t interested in going anywhere with him? She wanted him gone. “My friend and I are going somewhere special.” She gave him an intimate smile as though divulging a secret, but unease filled her. “Thanks for the offer, though. See you around.”

  “How about dinner? You do eat.”

  Ashley sighed. She must say something to get rid of him. “That would be nice, just not tonight.”

  “Good.” Then he totally caught her off guard when he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Ashley. Take care.”

  Ashley nodded, pivoted on her heel and hurried away. She itched to reach up and wipe the feel of his lips off her cheek, but she knew Vaughn and his driver were watching her. When her phone vibrated, she opened it with the eagerness of a puppy wanting a treat.

  “Ron, when did you say you’d get here?” she asked.

  “You hung up on me,” he said in an annoyed voice.

  “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to. Just tell me when to expect you.”

  “That’s why I was calling. I’m helping out Kenny and won’t be able to make it for a while, but I promise to explain everything when we meet. Did Matt make it from San Diego?”

  “Yes. Why?” She peeked over her shoulder, saw that the limo was still there. Vaughn was gone, but the creepy driver had his gaze on her. She hurried around the building.

  “Can he drop you home?”

  “Uh-hmm, sure.” She noticed that she was at another entrance. “I’ll see you later, then?”

  “Definitely. Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

  “That’s okay.” As soon as she hung up, she vigorously wiped her cheek where Vaughn had kissed her. She’d probably have to scour her face to get rid of his touch. Grimacing, she called for a taxi, gave her location then settled under a nearby tree to wait.

  It was a good thing she always carried a drawing pad and pencils in her bag. Within minutes, she pulled out the pad and was busy sketching. From the inner recess of her mind, an image emerged. Her hand flew all over the paper, translating it. An outline of man’s face became apparent. She added details. She didn’t have to close her eyes to recall the cold, glassy
eyes, the thick eyebrows, the jagged scar that ran from the left eyebrow to the left earlobe. Ashley stopped and leaned back to study her handiwork. A shiver raked her body.

  “Who are you?” she whispered. How could she recall every detail of the face and yet not remember where she’d seen it?

  Scowling, she flipped over the page, secured it with her fingers then started another sketch. In less than a minute, she had a rough drawing of Vaughn’s driver. She compared the two pictures and gasped. Either her brain had a loose connection or Vaughn’s driver was from her forgotten past. She reached for the cell phone and dialed Dr. Vogel’s number. The psychologist would want to see this.

  “Ma’am?”

  Ashley gave a loud screech and jerked up. Her gaze connected with those of the man looming over her.

  ***

  Ron didn’t arrive at Ashley’s until seven-thirty in the evening. He was parking his car when he noticed the squad cars at the entrance to her building. Nothing to be concerned about, was his first thought. But then he saw two officers talking to the security guard and ice crept down his spine.

  “What’s going on, Jeffrey?” he asked when he was a few feet away from them.

  The guard looked up and said, “Ah, Mr. Noble,” with obvious relief. “These officers just left Ms. Fitzgerald’s apartment.”

  His heart stopped, then picked up an uneven tempo. “Why?” His gaze bounced between the two officers and Jeffrey. “What happened? Is she okay?”

  Jeffrey nodded. “Yes, but she called 911 because a man wanted by the police had followed her home.”

  Ron felt the ground shift under him. “What man? Where is she?”

  “Upstairs, but these officers—”

  Ron didn’t wait for Jeffrey to finish explaining. He ran toward the stairs, his thoughts racing from one scenario to another. Was it the biker? Had he tried to hurt her? How could he have been so stupid and careless? The need to know the identity of the person the biker met at Sunset Marquis Hotel had been foremost in his mind, but he still shouldn’t have left Ashley at the hospital alone.

  By the time Ron reached the sixth floor, he was sweating and hyperventilating, and it wasn’t from climbing the stairs. Fear turned his stomach into ice, locked his chest tight until it was hard to breath. He gave himself a moment to calm himself, control his breathing and wipe his brow before pressing Ashley’s doorbell.

  When the door opened, it was by a tall man with the hard look of a cop. Ron ignored him, his gaze hungrily seeking Ashley, who was hovering in the background until she saw him. She had traded her sweatpants and T-shirt for a simple fuchsia dress, which brought out the richness of her hair, he noted as she hurried to the door. But her eyes looked tired, her smile strained. Still, the sight of her, her sweet smile, sent relief surging through him.

  “Hey,” he managed in a calm voice that belied the wild beating of his heart. The cop shifted and blocked his line of vision, causing Ron to turn his gaze to him. They were about the same height and size.

  “Who’re you?” the man asked in a hard voice.

  “Ron…a friend,” Ashley answered before he could, then her eyes rounded when she saw Ron’s jaw. “What happened to you? Let him through, Eddie.”

  Eddie didn’t move. “Does Ron come with a last name?” The question was directed at no one, though his cold gaze stayed locked on Ron.

  “Noble,” Ron answered this time. On a different day, he would have been insulted by the officer’s vigilance, now he appreciated it. “And you are?”

  “Eddie Fitzgerald, L.A.P.D.”

  “My cousin,” Ashley clarified. She nudged her cousin until he stepped forward. “He’s a friend, Eddie, so stop trying to intimidate him. I’ll call if anything else comes up, just like I promised.”

  “You do that.” Eddie’s gaze finally shifted to Ashley. “Be careful, Ash.”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  Eddie smiled, then nodded briefly at Ron and disappeared down the hallway. Ashley closed the door and leaned against it with a deep sigh.

  Ron pressed the heel of his hand somewhere above her head and studied her face. “What happened?”

  She flashed a self-conscious grin. “I thought the biker who hurt Uncle Jerry had followed me home. Weird, huh?”

  Only the slight tightened of his hand indicated he didn’t like what he heard. “No, it isn’t. What did he do?”

  “Just followed me to and from Dr. Reuben’s office, parked across the street when I left the cab, then disappeared by the time I reached security desk. I called the police anyway.” She reached up and gently touched his jaw. “What happened to you?” she asked gently.

  “I ran into a steel-plated door.” The feel of her cool fingers against his heated skin was heavenly, caused him to briefly forget why he’d raced up six flights of stairs like a man possessed. He took her hand in his, kissed her palm and closed the kiss in. He didn’t let her hand go though. Silly as it might sound, he felt much better now that they were alone. “You went to see the shrink? Why?”

  “I needed to discuss something with her.” She tugged at his hand. “Come with me. You must put something on that bruise.” She led him into the room.

  “My face will be fine.” But he still allowed her to lead him to a chair by the table, where she had put her cameras earlier. He rather liked the way she was fussing over his minor bruises, even the feel of her smaller hand curled around his, to be honest. “What did the police say?”

  She gave him a wry smile. “They didn’t take me seriously until I called my cousin. Although I must admit, I might have sounded a little deranged yelling at them the way I did. I was pretty spooked.” Ashley looked down at their joined hands and tried to wiggle hers free. “Easy on the fingers, please. They’ve had their share of abuse today.”

  “What?” Ron realized that he was holding onto her too tightly. “Oh, sorry.”

  “Sit,” she ordered. Then she studied his face. “Must have been a very big door you crashed into.”

  “Yeah, weighed nearly three-hundred pounds,” he added, knowing he hadn’t fooled her.

  “Bet he had two legs and arms too,” she said teasingly, then went to get an ice pack from the freezer.

  “And a mean left hook.” His gaze stayed on her as she wrapped the ice pack with a dishcloth, then walked back to him to press it against his jaw. He moved his arms from the table top and palmed her waist.

  How had they moved from talking about her to him? Not that he minded. In fact, there were many things about Ashley Fitzgerald that pleased him immensely. Her breasts were directly in front of his face. Her scent, feminine and bewitching, assaulted his senses. He wanted to bury his face in her chest and feast on her, pull her onto his lap and make her forget the last couple of hours.

  As though aware of his amorous thoughts, Ashley cut him a glance from the cover of her lashes, a slow smile settling on her lips. She transferred his hand from her waist to the ice pack “Hold it in place. I’ll get the first-aid kit.”

  Ron watched her as she glided to the downstairs bathroom. He took a deep breath, then smiled. The little witch knew exactly what she was doing to him.

  “What did the cops say?” he asked loud enough to reach her.

  “They wanted to know if I had enemies, maybe an ex-boyfriend who’d want to hurt me,” she answered from the bathroom, then left the room with a red and white first-aid box. “I don’t. Even after I told them I didn’t know the biker, they kept hinting at a possible connection between the biker, Uncle Jerry and me. I told them about Uncle Jerry’s cell phone. Officer Rudolf told me when we spoke at the hospital that they couldn’t find it. Chances are the biker took it when he saw that Uncle Jerry was using it at the time of the attack. I told them that might explain why he came after me.” She pressed ointment on her finger, then spread it on his cut before adding a bandage. “He probably thought I heard something that could finger him. The officers didn’t buy it.”

  Ashley leaned against the table and nodded approvingl
y at her handiwork. “Much better. Anyway, they thoroughly ticked me off, so I told them to get out of my home. Then I called Eddie. Eddie tends to make things happen. I didn’t imagine that man, Ron,” she added. “He had a beard and wore aviator goggles, just as Uncle Jerry had described.”

  Ron nodded. “I believe you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Any time. Now, I want you to listen to me.” He held her hands, and locked her gaze with his. “The same biker trailed me, too.”

  Her eyes widened. “When?”

  “Two days ago. At first, I thought he was one of my uncle’s men.” She blinked in confusion. “I got in a few tight spots during my rebellious years and needed my uncle to bail me out. He had me under surveillance after that. When I saw a biker on my tail, I naturally assumed Uncle Gregory was up to his old tricks.”

  Silence stretched after his words. Her eyes, big and apprehensive, studied him. “You’re sure he’s not one of your uncle’s men?”

  “Yeah. I spoke with my uncle and he confirmed it. I also contacted Kenny when I first saw the biker. His man followed the biker to Valley Towers.”

  “Uncle Jerry’s building?”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed her knuckles. “I just found out that bit of info from Kenny. He had no idea your uncle’s office was there or reason to suspect the biker was casing the place.” But that didn’t make his guilt any less. If he’d talked to Kenny or his people before today, he would have made the connection and warned her uncle. He pushed the feeling aside, focused on their discussion. “Later, the biker went to Sunset Marquis Hotel. I wanted to know the identity of the person he met there, so I went with Kenny to see a man about it. When you called, we were trying to, uh, convince him to talk to us.”

  He scowled. What a waste of effort that turned out to be. “When we finally spoke with him, the info he gave us was very sketchy. I don’t understand Spanish and Kenny’s pretty basic, so maybe something was lost in the translation, but the gist of it is the biker’s contact at the hotel was an old man with a limp and evil eyes—whatever that means. He paid for the room in cash and stayed only for three days despite paying for five.” He’d been so relieved his uncle wasn’t behind the attack on Kirkland. “We’re dealing with a meticulous man, one smart enough not to leave a paper trail.”