Slow Burn

by Ednah Walters

  Ron slanted him a puzzled look. “What are you talking about?”

  “After last night, I think we should revise our thinking. The facts are; whoever is behind this mess is willing to eliminate Hogan, Kirkland and Ashley. He or she is deliberately ignoring your involvement. And no one’s gone after your mother either.”

  Ron grimaced. He’d wondered when his friend would go back to back to their original assumption. Before he and Kenny went to Sunset Marquis Hotel, they’d discussed the possibility of his uncle derailing their investigation. They eliminated him when the description the busboy gave them didn’t fit Gregory.

  Ron leaned back against the chair and scrubbed his face. It was hard to imagine his uncle doing anything criminal or hurting people. Gregory was ruthless when it came to business, but to actually off someone? It just didn’t fit with the man Ron knew and loved. The very thought that his uncle could be the mastermind behind what was happening around him left a nasty taste in Ron’s mouth.

  “I’ll have another talk with Uncle Gregory.”

  Kenny didn’t respond, his gaze unwavering. “Man, this is jacked up.”

  “Let’s not reach any conclusions yet,” Ron said in a firm voice. He refused to believe his uncle was guilty.

  Kenny shrugged. “Whatever you want. Remember, I have your back. About the bugs, thanks for giving us access to your company’s inventory of purchased orders. You’ve had a quite a bit of sales of the technical surveillance equipment like the ones we found at Ashley’s. I’ve a tech kid who can break in and out of any system without a trace. He’s checking the inventory of the other dealers on the west coast, cross-checking with local P.I. firms who’ve recently purchased anything. So far, there’s no P.I. firm owned or run by a Dunn. Hopefully, searching employee database for anyone fitting Dunn’s description will give us some lead.”

  Unless his uncle was behind this whole thing and just helped himself to the TS gizmos. There would be no IPOs or paper trail. Ron pushed his suspicions aside, but a hollow feeling settled in his stomach. He had to stop thinking that his uncle was guilty. “Dunn probably used a fake name.”

  Kenny’s eyes narrowed in thought then he nodded. “That’s a possibility. I’ve more bad news. Jackson, McKinney and Borough are missing.”

  His father’s former fire buddies? He propped his elbows on his knees and pinned Kenny down with a glare. “What do you mean missing? I spoke with them two weeks ago.”

  “I stopped by their boat charter business for a private chat and was informed they’d gone fishing. Something they did every year an employee told me. I went to their homes and got the same story from their wives. I wasn’t buying it, so I paid their offices another visit after hours.”

  “And?”

  “I checked their data log. A boat is missing at the marina.”

  Ron rubbed his nape, frustration knitting his gut. “Maybe we should stop the investigation.”

  “It won’t make a difference, man. Whoever is doing this has something to hide, and from my experience, they won’t stop until they’ve tied all the loose ends, which I’m afraid, includes your artist friend.”

  That was what Ron was afraid of. He needed to talk to his family, starting with his mother. Yesterday, he’d warned her about Dunn, but she hadn’t taken him seriously. Ron jumped to his feet, walked to the kitchen phone and speed dialed her home number.

  As he waited for the phone to be picked up, he said, “Ashley had a very interesting theory about all this. She thinks Ryan Doyle could be trying to scare her off.”

  “He could accomplish that without offing Hogan and beating up Kirkland. Then there are the letters, not exactly Doyle’s style. Still, it’s an interesting theory. Do you know if Doyle tried to buy the house before? You know, about the time of the fire?”

  “No, but I can ask my mother.”

  A pensive expression settled on Kenny’s face. “You do that. Meanwhile, I’m going to dig into the man’s background, see if there’s a connection between him and the firefighters. I have my computer wiz kid on speed dial. He should be able to sniff out a money trail no matter how old it is. The three men retired immediately after the fire and opened the charter business at the marina together. I don’t know what the retirement package for firefighters was in those days, but I doubt it was enough to buy several boats.”

  “They could have gotten a loan from a bank.”

  “Then we’ll find it. If not, your woman might be into something.”

  His woman. He liked that. Ron nodded. “Yeah, she’s very sharp. Just a sec.” Someone had picked up the phone on the other side. “Mom?”

  “Do you know what time it is?” Nina griped.

  She sounded sleepy which wasn’t surprising. She never got up on Sundays until well after midday. He looked at his watch. “Ten o’clock. I want you to listen very carefully to me, mother.” He quickly explained about the missing firefighters and stressed what happened to Hogan and Kirkland. “Stay inside and have at least two guards with you at all times.”

  “Poor Hogan,” she muttered.

  “Mom? Did you get everything I said?”

  “Of course, Ronald. I won’t go anywhere. Who could be behind this?”

  “Anyone.” He cleared his throat. “Was Ryan Doyle after Carlyle House ten years ago?”

  “How did you know? I turned him down. He even offered to pay more than the Fitzgeralds. I’d never have that man living in a house my grandfather built with his sweat and blood. I told him then what my realtor told him weeks ago, no. Why are you asking about him? Do you think he’s the one behind this mess?” Her voice became stringent. “If he is, then you must stop this investigation, Ronald. That man is capable of anything.”

  “I’m not sure if he is the one, Mom. I’m just trying to weed out possible suspects.” Something Ashley had said flitted in his thoughts. “Was there a secret room in Carlyle House ten years ago? A filthy room?”

  There was silence.

  “Mom?”

  “What do you mean a secret room?” Her voice was hesitant.

  “Ashley was filthy the night of the fire. I wondered how she got that way.”

  “Don’t believe anything that silly girl tells you.”

  Disdain dripped in every word, but something in her voice set off warning bells in his head. “Mother? What aren’t you telling me?”

  A longer silence followed, then a sigh. “Come to the house and we’ll talk.”

  His family and more secrets, he should have known. Ron pressed the off button and dialed Ashley’s cell number first. He glanced at Kenny. His friend was back on the couch, surfing the channels. “Doyle offered to buy the house ten years ago, just like he’s doing now.”

  Kenny grinned. “That’s good to know.”

  “Watch your back, my friend. I’d hate to have you disappear on me, too.”

  “Discretion is my middle name,” Kenny bragged. “How’s your mother taking all this?”

  “Seriously now. Yesterday she refused to accept that Hogan’s death and the attack on Kirkland was connected to our investigation.” Now she wanted to reveal a few family skeletons. Ron sighed. His head pounded in earnest and tension knotted his insides. When would this madness end? He put the phone back down with barely suppressed frustration. Ashley’s line was busy, again. He’d have to stop at her place on his way to his mother’s.

  “I need to get the hell out of here,” Ron muttered.

  Kenny jumped to his feet. “Same here.”

  Ron picked up his jacket, patted the pocket to make sure his keys were in there and led the way to the door. “I hope those three men went fishing like their wives said.”

  “I feel you, my friend,” Kenny said as they stepped out of the house.

  “Could you check on someone else for me? A Dr. Vogel. Ashley called her when her home was bugged, which means whoever was listening on the other end knows she made an appointment to undergo hypnosis. Dunn also followed her to the doc’s place. With people vanishing left and
right, I don’t want to add another woman to the list.”

  Kenny nodded. “I’ll take care of it. And if you need some manpower to keep an eye on her or your mom, just say the word. I can spare a few people.”

  “Then make it happen.”

  They clasped their right hands, bumped shoulders in a masculine hug, then separated and headed to their respective cars.

  ***

  Ashley paused at the top of the stairs and grimaced. She had to accept the inevitable, her privacy was gone. She’d kissed it bye-bye when she agreed to work with the police. According to Officer Marissa Kilpatrick, five-foot-four bundle of rules and regulations, the light and motion activated cameras would kick in as soon as Ashley stepped on the stairs.

  Every move she made would be displayed on the screens in the lobby. She was tempted to run back to the bathroom and hide for a while. The bathrooms were the only places without their little gizmos.

  I can do this. I volunteered to do it, so I’d better get with the program.

  Taking a deep breath, Ashley took that first step, then another. At the bottom of the stairs, she glanced at the corners of the room, where they’d planted their cameras, and gave a smile and a wave.

  Could they tell she was self-conscious? She tried to pretend she was alone as she went about pouring a cup of coffee. She sat on a stool and took a long sip. The brew tasted like cough syrup. She needed to get out of here. The clock said it was half past ten, time to head to the cemetery for a chat with her parents. She’d already spoken to Officer Kilpatrick about it. From the cop’s expression when she’d told her about wanting to visit her parents’ graves, the woman probably thought Ashley was nuts to visit the cemetery when a killer was after her.

  Thoughts of her parents brought images of last night’s nightmare to the forefront. A shudder shook Ashley. The dream had seemed so real. Could she have witnessed the murder of her parents ten years ago? Was that why she blocked the memories of that night?

  The possibility that the dream was a recap of her lost memory, that those two men had something to do with the murder of her parents was frightening. Unless she was going insane, Vaughn’s driver and the man who killed her parents in her dream was the same person in the unfocused photograph Ron had showed her. Yet she couldn’t remember taking his picture.

  Ashley shook her head. There was no point in stressing over what might have happened. She’d get her answers soon enough under hypnosis. Picking up the phone, Ashley dialed the lobby. Kilpatrick told her to wait for an escort. Accommodating, Sanchez had said. Someone forgot to add the word in Kilpatrick’s vocabulary.

  Five minutes later, her doorbell rang.

  Ashley opened the door and smiled at Officer Kilpatrick. No way would anyone who saw them together think they were friends. Despite her black pants and casual jacket, the brunette had Police Academy discipline written all over her unsmiling, vigilant face. Ashley’s friendly overtures were met with monosyllable answers. Sighing, Ashley followed her along the hallway.

  “Let’s take the stairs. I, uh, don’t like elevators,” Ashley said when the officer pressed the button for the elevator.

  This time, the cop kept her expression neutral, just nodded and started down the stairs. They were seven floors up. Kilpatrick with her toned body could probably jog downstairs and back up without breaking a sweat. Before they got to the last set of stairs, voices from the lobby reached Ashley and she froze, causing Officer Kilpatrick to stop, too.

  “Are you saying I can’t go upstairs?” Ron was asking, and he sounded pissed. From the direction of his voice, he was somewhere near the elevator.

  Ashley imagined what would have happened if she had used it and not the stairs. Facing Ron after he learned she didn’t want to see him anymore would have been darn near impossible.

  “I’m sorry, sir, just following orders.” The security guard’s tone indicated he hated being the bearer of bad news. “I’ll let the cop explain, sir.”

  “We’re under strict orders not to allow Ms. Fitzgerald any visitors, Mr. Noble,” Officer Kilpatrick’s partner said in a firm voice.

  “Whose orders?” Ron snapped.

  “My superiors, sir.”

  “Do you want me to handle this, ma’am?” Officer Kilpatrick whispered from beside Ashley.

  Ashley shook her head. “He’ll, uh, leave soon.” She hoped so.

  A frown crossed the woman’s serious face. “He’s the one Sanchez said wasn’t to come near you, right?”

  Put that way, it made Ron sound like some undesirable member of society. “Yes. I don’t want him, you know, involved in this mess.” She waved toward the lobby. “Your partner knows he’s not to tell him about the deal I made with Officer Sanchez, right?”

  Officer Kilpatrick opened her mouth to respond but Ron’s angry words cut her off.

  “Listen, I was with Ms. Fitzgerald when Dunn paid her a visit last night. I know Officer Sanchez. Check with her. She’ll tell you I’ve clearance to go upstairs.”

  There was few mumbled exchange Ashley didn’t catch, then a smothered curse and the sound of footsteps heading away and toward the exit. Relief surged through her and she leaned against the wall to support her weak knees. Maybe she should go after him and explain. No, that was a bad idea. She wouldn’t bear the look on his face. As seconds ticked, Ashley wondered what the officer had told Ron.

  Officer Kilpatrick hurried down the stairs, glanced briefly toward the exit, then looked up at where Ashley stood waiting at the top of the stairs. “All’s clear.”

  When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Ashley’s gaze automatically went to the exit, too. Ron was nowhere to be seen. The two officers were in a heated conversation when she approached them.

  “What did he tell Mr. Noble?” Ashley asked.

  Officer Kilpatrick took her arm and attempted to lead her toward the entrance, but Ashley dug in her heels.

  “He’s a rookie, Ms. Fitzgerald. I’ll make sure he’s replaced as soon as possible.”

  Her heart dropped. “What did he say?”

  There was a slight hesitation. “That it was you who stipulated that Mr. Noble shouldn’t be allowed to see you, ma’am.”

  Ashley gripped her purse, her heart squeezing with self-loathing. How could she have done this? How Ron must have been humiliated. Their time together flashed in her head, haunting her and reminding her that she’d chosen the coward’s way. She should have talked to him and explained her fears, instead of letting the guard and the cops do her dirty work. I’m sorry, baby. I promise to make it up to you.

  “Ms. Fitzgerald?”

  “I don’t think I’ll visit the cemetery after all. I’m going back upstairs. Excuse me.” She turned and hurried back toward the stairs.

  Once inside her loft, Ashley settled on the couch with a drawing pad and started sketching—flashes from her nightmare, faces of her parents’ assailants, her parents, the room, things she’d felt and touched. When she finished, she felt much calmer.

  CHAPTER 14

  “That’s it,” Ashley muttered and threw the pencil on the table. She’d been working on the damn painting the entire evening. Afternoon and evening. The results were still pitiful. Being stuck inside the loft was messing with her creative juices, or something was missing.

  Her gaze shifted to the finished canvas to her right. Detailed and vibrant, she’d caught Ron’s quirky grin and smoldering eyes. Muscular arms curved behind his head, golden skin draped over rippling chest muscles and abs begged for a lover’s caress. The low-hanging jeans were guaranteed to whet any woman’s appetite. Hers included. How she missed him. She hadn’t heard a peep from him for three, long, self-imposed torturous days.

  It was her fault. She could easily have picked up the phone and called him to apologize, to beg him to come back to her. But she hadn’t. Instead, she’d hidden inside her loft, not seeing anyone, including her family. The idea of her being used as bait for Dunn didn’t sit well with her aunt and cousins. They kept calling. Even her
uncle and cousins with the L.A.P.D. had tried to convince her to let a female cop take her place. Claiming she had a deadline had come to her rescue.

  Ashley reached for her cell phone, speed-dialed a number and brought the instrument to her ear.

  “Hey,” her cousin’s deep voice answered. “How are you holding up?”

  “Okay.” There was something so comforting about having Eddie work with her. He might be the most hotheaded of her cousins but when it came to police work, he was the best.

  “I know I’m becoming a pest, but—”

  “You’re not. You want these bastards off your back as much as I do. Noble is onto something here. I just wish you weren’t involved.”

  No point beating that dead horse. “Did you find anything?”

  “I’m still running facial recognition but so far neither the drawing nor Vaughn’s driver match any known criminal in our database. But I know the man’s name is Francis ‘Frankie’ Higgins. He’s worked for the Doyles for years, including the time of the fire. His background is nonexistent. He doesn’t pay taxes and has no bank account in this country. It’s like he appeared out of nowhere, which raised a red flag in my head. So I dug deeper. I hit pay dirt earlier today when his name popped up at the immigration checkpoint in Tijuana. He entered the country three weeks ago using a Honduran passport, but according to the Federales, he resides in a small fishing village near Guadalajara.”

  “Wow, Eddie. That’s amazing.”

  “Just doing my job. I plan to pay Noble’s P.I. buddy a visit to see what he’s unearthed too.”

  Her heart shifted. Maybe Ron would be with Kenny. Eddie could tell him how he looked. “Can you call me after you talk to him?”

  “Sure, Ashley. Hang tight. We’ll get Dunn and whoever is behind this.”

  His confidence was reassuring. Feeling a little better, Ashley put the phone down and sighed. Her cell started to sing again.

  Ron. “Please let it be him,” she whispered under her breath. The caller I.D. said it was her colleague from the children’s museum project. Ashley sighed with disappointment.