by Laura Scott
“Why?” Mike’s sharp tone made him wince.
“I picked up my notes along with Jeff’s files from my place.” He hesitated, unwilling to say too much with Suzy just a few feet away. “Unfortunately, it’s possible his license plate was identified.”
There was a long silence. “Where are you now?”
“Stilton. Motel called The Sandpiper.”
“Good. I’ll meet up with you tomorrow. Plan to stay for two nights, okay?”
“Sure.” There was so much more Mitch wanted to say, but this wasn’t the time or place. And he felt bad enough about possibly blowing the cover Mike had worked hard to give him. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Be safe.” Mike disconnected from the call.
Typical Mike, not one for small talk. He returned Suzy’s phone with a wan smile. “Thanks, appreciate it.”
She lifted a bony shoulder. “No problem.”
Mitch headed outside, but didn’t return to his motel room. Instead he went over to a narrow strip of grass and weeds, searching for enough mud to cover Hawk’s license plates. The vehicle was safe enough parked behind the motel, out of view from the street, but what if they had to leave again? Better to cover all his bases than to be caught unawares again.
Too bad he hadn’t thought of this trick before sneaking back to his house.
The ground was crumbly, not muddy enough thanks to the lack of rain, so he had to go inside to fill the ice bucket with water in order to complete his task. Afterward, he washed up in the bathroom, then took a moment to peek in on Dana.
She was curled on her side, with her hands tucked beneath her cheek, sound asleep.
Unwilling to disturb her, he ducked back into his room. Remembering how she’d picked up the shoe box with the Glock made him smile. For a woman who had every right to be mad at him for dragging her into danger, she’d turned out to be an amazing partner. She didn’t complain or whine—in fact she seemed just as determined as he was to clear his name.
He didn’t deserve her support, not after the way he’d failed to save Kent. But all he could do now was to make sure to keep her safe from harm.
Dropping into a seat at the desk, he yawned and opened the file with his notes. It was late, and the writing tended to blur as his eyelids grew heavy. He pried them open and attempted to concentrate. But after reading the same sentence for the third time, he gave up.
A few hours of sleep, he told himself. Just enough to take the edge off.
He closed his eyes, thought of Dana, smiled and slept.
* * *
Morning sunlight streamed through the windows when Dana woke up, groggy and disoriented. It took a moment for her to remember this was a room at The Sandpiper Motel, and that they’d come here instead of heading to Hawk’s cabin.
She rolled out of bed, grimacing at how her clothes were wrinkled from sleeping in them, and tiptoed to the connecting door between their rooms. After listening for a moment and hearing nothing but silence, she risked a quick glance.
Mitch was still asleep.
Plenty of time for a shower, even if she didn’t have fresh clothes to change into. Twenty minutes later, she felt better—at least her hair was clean. But her stomach rumbled with hunger, as if the pizza they’d shared last night for dinner had been days instead of twelve hours ago.
Flipping through the brochure on the desk, she found a listing of restaurants located nearby, several serving breakfast. She stood in the center of her motel room, debating her options, when she heard movement from Mitch’s room. She sat down and within a few minutes he knocked on the connecting door.
“Come in.”
“Hey.” Mitch’s dark blond hair was damp and he looked amazingly handsome.
“I hope you didn’t shower. You’re not supposed to get your sutures wet.”
“I didn’t, just washed my hair in the sink and used a towel around my neck to keep them dry.” He had the two file folders tucked under his right arm. “Hungry?”
“Oh, yeah.” She jumped to her feet. “There’s a Karen’s Kitchen just a few blocks up the road. And it’s a nice day for a walk.”
“Perfect.”
After all the sneaking around the previous day, first at Simon’s apartment and then in and out of Mitch’s house, it felt strange to walk down the sidewalk next to Mitch. Their fingers brushed by accident, and she had to physically stop herself from reaching for his hand.
“Did you talk to Mike?” she asked, breaking the silence.
He nodded. “Told him to warn Hawk about last night. Mike didn’t sound happy, but he’s planning to head up here sometime this morning.”
“Maybe between the three of us reviewing your notes, we’ll find something significant.”
He sent her a sidelong glance. “I appreciate your support, Dana. You’ve been great through this nightmare.”
Warmth crept into her cheeks at his praise. “I just hate that you’re being framed for something you didn’t do, that’s all.”
“I don’t take everything you’re doing for me for granted.” His voice was low and serious.
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she simply smiled. How could she explain that she felt alive for the first time in three years? Not because of the danger, though.
Because of Mitch.
Caring about someone other than her patients had brought light and strength to the forefront of her life.
Mitch opened the door of Karen’s Kitchen for her. She stepped inside, the enticing scent of coffee, bacon and eggs making her mouth water.
“How about that booth in the corner?” Mitch asked.
“Of course.” The hostess picked up two plastic-coated menus and led them to the isolated booth Mitch had requested. Being tucked in the back provided them with a full view of the restaurant and privacy.
A woman close to her own age approached with a pot of coffee. “Good morning, my name is Kathleen and I’ll be serving you today.”
Kathleen flashed a flirty smile at Mitch, as if Dana wasn’t even there. She squelched an unbecoming flash of jealousy and added cream to her coffee.
Once they’d placed their order and Kathleen had disappeared to take care of her other customers, Mitch opened one of the file folders, angling it so that they could both read.
“These are my notes on the most recent warehouse fire. I compared this fire to some of my other cases, but there doesn’t seem to be any link.”
She nodded, although a lot of the notes were in firefighter jargon and meant little more to her than gibberish. “What type of comparisons do you look for?”
“Every fire leaves evidence behind.” Mitch’s blue gaze grew intense. “The type of accelerant used, the actual mechanism of the fire, those are the details that an arsonist leaves behind, like a murderer’s modus operandi. It’s the best way to track a serial arsonist.”
“Interesting.” She was intrigued by the depth of his investigation. “What motivates someone to set fires in the first place?”
“Good question.” He smiled like a proud teacher praising a student. “There are many motives. Some firebugs just like to watch things burn, fascinated or obsessed with fire itself. But other arsonists burn for insurance money or even for revenge. That’s also a big part of their MO. It’s my job to link the clues together to form a big picture.”
She could see that his notes included a lot of just that type of detail.
Kathleen approached with their breakfast, so Mitch quickly flipped the folder shut and tucked it away.
Dana picked up her fork, then set it down again when Mitch put his hand out on the table palm up. She tentatively rested her palm against his and bowed her head as he prayed.
“Dear Lord, thank You for this delicious food we are about to eat. Also for keeping us safe in Your care. We ask for Your grace and guidance as we continue this jou
rney for truth. Amen.”
“Amen,” she echoed. She raised her head, looking directly into Mitch’s eyes. “That was a wonderful prayer.”
He cocked his head. “Thanks, but all prayers are wonderful. It’s our way to talk to God.”
“Very true.” She dropped her gaze to their joined hands. “I have to admit, I’m still struggling with understanding God’s plan for taking Kent so young. But I’m trying. I appreciate you helping to remind me what’s really important.”
His fingers tightened around hers. “You’re welcome.”
She reluctantly pulled away from his grasp so he could eat. The food was amazing, or maybe she was exceptionally hungry. She did her best to slow down, but without much success. Mitch laughed when they both sat back, looking askance at their empty plates.
“I don’t think I’ve met anyone who could eat as fast as me,” he said.
“Hey, at least we have more time to review your notes.”
His smile faded. “Yeah. But I think I should look at Jeff’s cases first. After all, this most recent fire was originally assigned to him, not to me. I only got it by default.”
“Okay.” She cradled her mug, sipping her coffee. “Maybe there’s a trend with his fires?”
Mitch waited until Kathleen removed their empty plates, refilled their coffee cups and then left them alone before he opened his own file. Once again, he slanted it so she could see, as well.
Almost instantly the name Shelton jumped out at her. Shelton, Inc. “What’s this?” she asked, tapping her fingertip on the name.
“Looks as if a shell corporation by the name of Shelton, Inc. is the real owner of the warehouse. Why?”
A chill snaked down her spine and her mouth went sandpaper dry. “Shelton is Kent’s mother’s maiden name. Her full name is Alice Shelton Petrie.”
Mitch shrugged. “There may not be a connection. After all, Shelton is a fairly common name.”
The breakfast she’d eaten swirled in her stomach. Sure, Shelton wasn’t an uncommon name, but how many Sheltons had ties to real estate in Wisconsin?
Was it possible there was a link between the arson and Kent’s mother’s family?
NINE
“Dana? What’s wrong?”
She could feel the color draining from her cheeks, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Mitch leaned closer, his expression full of concern.
“I just—” She hesitated and then slowly shook her head. “Don’t you think this is a huge coincidence? Kent’s family being in real estate and now Shelton, Inc. owning the warehouse destroyed by arson?”
He reached out and took her hand in his. “Yeah, I see where you’re coming from, but think about it. Why would Kent’s family be involved in something like this? They’re already wealthy, right? And besides, their son was a firefighter. In fact, he died in a fire. It’s inconceivable that they were involved.”
She frowned, not at all convinced. “But what if they are? I mean, sure, I doubt they meant for Kent to be hurt, but...” Her voice trailed off.
How could she explain the weird dynamics of Kent’s family? They behaved as if they were close, but she couldn’t help but see it as nothing more than an act put on for the benefit of others.
Specifically for her.
He gently squeezed her hand. “Let’s walk back to the motel where we can talk in private. I’d like to hear more about the Shelton side of the family.”
“Okay.”
He put the file folders together then gestured for Kathleen to bring the check. Their server sashayed over, favoring him with a broad smile. Dana inwardly rolled her eyes at her flirtatiousness. “Come back and visit again soon.”
Mitch seemed oblivious, barely sparing her a glance. “Sure thing.” After tossing enough cash for the bill and a tip, he slipped out of the booth. He tucked the file folders beneath his arm, then reached again for Dana’s hand. She took it, grateful for the physical connection.
The world suddenly seemed off-kilter, as if nothing made sense. Seeing Shelton, Inc. had been awful. But holding on to Mitch’s hand felt right.
She didn’t say much during the brief walk back to The Sandpiper. Mitch kept sending her sidelong looks as if expecting her to collapse in a puddle of emotion.
Maybe he was right. She stiffened her spine. The idea that anyone with a firefighter in the family would be a part of purposefully setting fires was ludicrous.
Still, it wasn’t easy to shake off the possible connection. It didn’t have to be anyone close to Kent’s parents who were involved, but a distant member of the Shelton family. Someone coldhearted enough not to care about the impact of arson to a firefighter.
Her heart squeezed in her chest as she thought about the unborn child she’d lost. What if Kent hadn’t died in the fire? Would she have been able to carry the baby until full term? Would she have a son or daughter right now?
For a moment her vision blurred, then Mitch’s voice pulled her back to the present. “Looks as if Mike isn’t here yet.”
Focus. The past was dead and buried in twin graves. She needed to keep moving forward. She cleared her throat. “What time do you think he’ll get here?”
“Probably not for another hour yet.” He let go of her hand to unlock his motel room door, holding it open for her. “Let’s sit here in my room for a few minutes, okay?”
She nodded, dropping into the seat beside his. The rooms weren’t large, the two chairs so close that their knees bumped. Mitch set the folders down, then offered an encouraging smile.
“What do you know about the Shelton side of Kent’s family?”
She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Kent’s mother has two brothers, Darnell and Oliver Shelton.”
He nodded. “How old are these guys?”
“Mid-to late-fifties. Kent’s parents were already in their late thirties when they had him and they’re big on keeping old family names. Kent’s full name was Kentworth Edward Petrie.” She waved an impatient hand. “Doesn’t matter. The brothers are both older than Alice, by several years if I remember correctly. Kent’s mother made a comment about how her brothers were close, but she was the odd person out.”
“Oliver and Darnell.” Mitch jotted their names down on motel stationery. “Do they have kids?”
“I think so.” She cast back in her memory. “Kent had several cousins, but we didn’t see them often.”
“Anything you can remember might help,” he said encouragingly.
It was difficult to imagine Kent’s cousins being involved, but she took the pen from Mitch and started with the first names. “Olivia, Archie, Bertrand and Leon. I think Olivia is Oliver’s daughter. He wanted a boy to carry on his name, but had to make do. I don’t think he had another son, so the other three must belong to Darnell.”
“It’s a great start.” Mitch opened the file folder again, the one holding Jeff’s notes. “I’ll see if I can find any reference to first names.”
She watched Mitch skim through the small, tight script. It took a few minutes for her to realize she was holding her breath, as if afraid of what he might find. Unable to sit still, she rose to her feet and wandered to the window overlooking the narrow parking lot behind the motel. Hawk’s SUV was parked there, along with two other cars. The place obviously wasn’t filled to capacity.
“I don’t believe it.” Something in Mitch’s voice lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.
“What?” She turned and leaned against the window, in case her knees gave way. “Did you find something?”
Mitch lifted his grim gaze to hers. “The initials O.S. handwritten in the margin of Jeff’s notes.”
“Oliver or Olivia Shelton,” she whispered. “That’s incredible. Why on earth would Kent’s family be involved in something criminal?”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Mitch countered. “The
initials could be related to something else.”
They weren’t. She knew it and so did he. Her chest felt tight and it was difficult to breathe.
“Dana, don’t do this.” Mitch was suddenly standing in front of her, his hands cupping her shoulders. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to hide within the shelter of his arms, seeking strength and reassurance.
“Do what? Believe the worst about the family of the man I married?”
“Exactly that. Not until we have more proof.” Mitch’s voice was low and tender. “Something more than two letters that could mean anything written in the margin of a notebook.”
“It has to be Oliver,” she whispered.
“Dana...” Her name came out in a low groan and he pulled her close, cradling her against his chest, the side opposite from where his incision was located.
She clung to him, seeking his strength. His warmth.
He pressed a kiss to her temple, sending a shiver of awareness down her spine. Memories of their previous kiss made her realize how much she wanted to repeat the experience.
Over and over again.
Leaning back in his embrace, she looked into his eyes. His were hesitant and questioning, as if unsure of what she wanted. Likely because of the way she had reacted last night, running away and hiding from him.
But she hadn’t been able to hide from herself.
She was attracted to Mitch. He awakened feelings inside her she’d thought were dead, forever. She lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
His mouth instantly responded to hers, deepening the kiss. She reveled in the way he crushed her close as if he’d never let her go, kissing her as if there was no tomorrow.
Dana had no idea how long the embrace would have lasted if a sudden pounding on Mitch’s motel room door hadn’t caused them to spring apart, both breathless and dazed.
“Mitch? It’s me, Mike.”
Mitch blew out a heavy breath. “Coming.”
She swallowed the insane urge to giggle. He lifted his hand to cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t run away this time. Please know, the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”