Gold Fire

by Starr Ambrose

  He tried to make sense of her accusations. “The police took you to the station to question you about the fire?”

  “As if you didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t.”

  The line of her mouth tightened as she took a deep breath. “Yes, the police questioned me. Do you get an extra kick out of hearing me say it? You really are a sick bastard, aren’t you?”

  He frowned. “Zoe, stop passing judgment for a minute. Are you telling me the police have my security video?”

  “Of course they do. It’s the main piece of evidence in their investigation. You should have made a copy if you wanted to play it over and over for entertainment purposes. Not that it shows anything incriminating—”

  “I didn’t give them that video.”

  “Yeah, right. Are we going to play semantics? You put it down and they picked it up?”

  He ran a hand through his still-damp hair. “Look, I need to understand this.” He closed the door and gestured at the living room. “Sit down and start from the beginning, slowly.”

  She stiffened, looking suddenly wary. “No thanks, I don’t care to hear more of your lies. I’ve heard quite enough already.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders again, deliberately keeping his eyes away from those freckles. “Zoe, listen to me. I’m not lying. I didn’t do it.”

  His words finally resonated with her, probably recalling her own claim of innocence. She stared for several seconds as the tension eased from her jaw and her brow creased. “You didn’t turn me in?”

  “No, I didn’t. And I’m not even sure what happened, so will you please explain it to me?” When she hesitated, frustration got the better of him. He grabbed her hand and marched the ten steps to the couch, surprised when she followed without protest. “Sit.”

  She eased gingerly onto the edge of the couch. He sat at the opposite end to keep her from bolting. “Start at the beginning,” he encouraged in a gentler voice.

  She studied him, licking her lips slowly. He followed the motion with interest, consciously resisting the urge to move closer. “Two officers came to the resort. One had a warrant to search my car. They took it away, I don’t know where. I had to borrow one from my sister. The other cop took me to the station to go over the five minutes I spent in your parking lot. In tedious detail. Twice. Not to mention my required essay on the subject.” She gave him a hard look, as if still reserving suspicion about his complicity.

  “They specifically said they had the security video?”

  “Yes, with ominous overtones. My brother-in-law even watched it. He’s a cop.”

  He rubbed a spot in the center of his forehead, hating the layers he was beginning to sense here. Someone was trying to hurt Zoe, which was more reason to suspect she was innocent.

  “I’d like to know how they got it. After Jennifer told me she’d talked to you, and I realized she might have something against you, I decided to hold on to it. I thought it was possible you were telling the truth.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He didn’t like the snarky tone, but he understood her frustration. She’d never tried to deny being in that car, had just possibly told the truth about what happened in the parking lot, and for her trouble she’d been hauled down to the police station and questioned like a suspect. He’d be more than snarky. “I’m sorry for what you went through.”

  She didn’t look mollified. “Who gave it to them if you didn’t?”

  He winced. That was the part that was causing the throbbing behind his forehead. Only one other person had known about that video, and known how incriminating it might be for Zoe. “One of my employees.”

  “Who?” she demanded.

  “It doesn’t matter who.”

  “It does to me. I take criminal accusations seriously.”

  He couldn’t disagree. He also couldn’t let her turn it into a personal war. Pressing his lips into a grim line, he said nothing.

  Irritation flashed in her eyes. “You just left it lying around for anyone to take?”

  “No, I burned it to a disc and locked it up. Our office was destroyed in the fire, but we have a small safe behind the bar that we use for cash overflow during the evening.” A safe only two other people could open. And Russ hadn’t known about the video.

  It took her only a few seconds to figure it out. “Jennifer.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “She manages the bar, doesn’t she? She must have access to the money. Even if she saw the DVD and didn’t know what it was, I imagine she would have been curious enough to check it out. All she had to do was pop it in a computer and play it.” Her reasoning was dead-on, so he winced, knowing what was coming next. She bit her lip and frowned over it. “The question is why? Is it because I’ve been trying to get you to sell the saloon?”

  Jase sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think she’s jealous.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. She doesn’t know anything about me, so why would she be . . . Oh! You mean over you?”

  He might not be as good-looking as that rich asshole she was dating, but he wasn’t bad. He arched an eyebrow. “Is it that hard to believe?”

  She hesitated, then flushed so deeply he wondered what had gone through her mind. “I don’t understand why she’d see me as a threat,” she said, stumbling over her words a bit.

  He’d wondered about that, too, and decided it was probably for the same reason Brandon had confronted him during their fishing trip. He’d been paying a lot of attention to Zoe when she and Matt Flemming had come to the Rusty Wire. They had both come to the conclusion that he was hot for Zoe—and because there was an uncomfortable element of truth to it, there was no way he was going to tell her that.

  “Jennifer and I have been friends for a long time. It’s possible she feels more for me than I realized. I’m afraid she’s decided it’s time to make her move, and she sees you as a threat and wants you out of the way.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  She was still a little pink, making him wonder what she found ridiculous—that Jennifer would be jealous or that she might actually have a reason to be. The thought was too distracting. “I don’t have a better answer, Zoe. And in case it’s true, I have to ask you for a favor. Please don’t say anything to her; let me handle it. Our history is a bit . . . sensitive, and I don’t want you to accidentally stir up some unpleasant memories.”

  Her gaze was unwavering as she nodded slightly. “Because of Adam.”

  Surprise hit him, followed immediately by resentment. “You’ve been researching my past.”

  She wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. “Of course I have. I told you, I take my job seriously.”

  He knew a portion of his life, both good and bad, had been news, but it made him uncomfortable to have someone snooping through the worst tragedy of his life so many years later. He bit back the anger, settling for a terse “Newspapers don’t tell the whole story.”

  “They never do.” She tilted her head and gave him a long look. “Neither do rumors.”

  She didn’t mean about him. She meant the rumors about her. Fair point. “Whatever you did in the past isn’t relevant,” he told her.

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, apparently deciding to leave well enough alone. Which was exactly how he felt about Adam. “So you’ll let me handle Jennifer?”

  She nodded grudgingly. “But if you’re wrong, and she says she didn’t do it . . .”

  “I’ll tell you, and we’ll figure out who did.”

  “Okay.” He thought she’d get up to leave, but she didn’t appear to be finished. Shifting uncomfortably, she said, “If the police accept that I didn’t set the fire, how will they find out who did?”

  He gave her a bitter smile. “That’s up to the police. I don’t need their help, I already know who did it if it wasn’t you.”

  “Who?”

  “Your boyfriend.”

  “Boss,” she corrected, obviously annoyed.

/>   “Tricky combination.”

  “It’s none of your business. Anyway, you’re wrong. Matt wouldn’t go sneaking around, setting fires.”

  “No, that’s not his style. He’d hire someone to do it. Same thing.”

  She couldn’t deny it, so she settled for a nasty scowl. “You’re wrong about him. He wouldn’t even let me present my new idea out of respect for your situation, you having so much to deal with after the fire.”

  No, he’d rather let all the problems he’d caused embed themselves under Jase’s skin, irritating him so much he’d be begging Matt to buy the saloon. It would never happen. But she’d made him curious. “What new idea?”

  “I just told you I’m not supposed to discuss it.”

  “Trust me, I won’t feel disrespected, or whatever the hell your boyfriend-boss told you I’d feel. Come on, lay it on me.” It was more than curiosity. He’d jump at any opportunity to move past the upsetting police incident.

  She stood stiffly. “I don’t think your mood is conducive to giving it a fair hearing. I’ll come by the Rusty Wire when you’re open for business again.”

  He stood, too, moving a step closer as he did. “Then I’ll see you Friday when we reopen.”

  “Fine.” She marched to the door and pulled it open before he could do it for her. The damp pine scent blew in again as she stepped onto the porch, then hesitated. She turned toward him, seeming to wage some inner battle before finally clearing her throat. “I apologize for jumping all over you like that. I thought you—” She cut off the excuse and grumbled, “Sorry.”

  “It was entertaining.”

  He was afraid it might make her mad, but one side of her mouth twitched upward. “I rehearsed it all the way over here. It was sincere.”

  “I could tell.” He let her take three steps down before adding, “An oozing pustule on the ass of humanity?”

  She paused, biting her lip to hold back a smile. “That one was spontaneous.”

  He watched her drive away before closing the door. He wasn’t tired anymore. In fact, he hadn’t felt this energized in a long time. Zoe would come see him Friday to offer another sweet deal, and he’d turn her down flat. He couldn’t wait.

  • • •

  By Wednesday, Zoe’s anger had defused. She shifted on the hard bench of the picnic table and watched a group of tourists pause on the bridge that spanned Elkhorn Creek. The wooden bridge with its decorative iron trim divided the public parking lot from the downtown shops, and it seemed like every group of visitors to Barringer’s Pass took turns posing there. It was the second-favorite photo op in town, ranking right below random celebrity sightings.

  She ignored the tourists and concentrated on the soothing rush of water as the creek tumbled down Two Bears Mountain. The narrow strip of park along the creek was picturesque and rustic, making it perfect for a midday lunch with her sisters.

  Maybe a bit too rustic. “Why did we have to eat here instead of in a restaurant with a nice, padded, bug-free booth?” Zoe complained, brushing a spider off the picnic table. She took a close look at her cottage cheese and peaches to make sure the spider hadn’t brought a friend.

  “Because Sophie dresses like a lumberjack and no decent restaurant would let her in the door.” Maggie threw a pointed glance at the red-checked wool shirt tied around their younger sister’s waist, dividing her faded T-shirt from her ripped jeans.

  “No choice,” Sophie said, reaching for one of Maggie’s french fries. “Those old mines are dirty and cold.” She popped the fry in her mouth and told Zoe, “Spiders aren’t bugs. They’re arachnids.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes at her younger sister’s passion for creepy crawlies. “Good to know.”

  Maggie slid her fries out of Sophie’s reach. “Is that bug study you’re doing a paying job or another crazy internship?”

  “Paid internship,” Sophie said. “Documenting insect life in abandoned mines is real work.”

  “Right.” Maggie peered at Sophie’s braided hair. “Something’s moving in there.”

  Sophie grabbed her long brown braid as Zoe chuckled. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

  “Sure. How did Grandma take the news about your trip to the police station?”

  “Better than I did.” Trying to head off rumors made her too aware of the days when the rumors had been true and her relationship with her grandmother had been strained to the breaking point. “I don’t want to talk about that, either.”

  “Okay.” Maggie smiled. “Tell us about your hypothetical love interest.”

  She’d forgotten all about questioning whether Matt might be the right man. She’d nearly forgotten about Matt himself. Ever since last night, her thoughts kept returning to Jase. The way he’d faced down her accusations with casual good humor, the way he’d been uneasy at the idea that Jennifer wanted him, the way his bare chest had shown the firm lines and hard bulges of well-developed muscles. Jase was . . . distracting.

  Sophie stopped shaking her disheveled braid to look at Zoe. “Are you seeing someone special? Do I know him?”

  “No.” That phone call to Maggie had been a huge mistake.

  Undeterred, her younger sister turned to Maggie. “Who is he?”

  “She won’t say.” Maggie looked smug as she bit into her burger and chewed. “But he could possibly be The One, so I think we should at least get to meet him.”

  “Oooh!” Sophie’s eyes sparkled.

  Zoe stabbed her fork into a peach slice. “Right, ’cause being grilled by my sisters is the perfect way to convince him to get serious about me.”

  “So he’s not serious yet?” Sophie asked.

  “She only danced with him,” Maggie told her.

  Blabbermouth, Zoe thought.

  Sophie sucked in a breath. “Is that what you were doing when I saw you at the Rusty Wire? I thought you were there alone.” She turned to Maggie. “She left alone.”

  Maggie scrunched up her brow. “You went dancing at the Rusty Wire?” As if she just couldn’t imagine it. “Does that have something to do with the owner accusing you of arson?”

  Sophie gasped. “Arson?”

  “He realized he was wrong,” Zoe said. At least, she was pretty sure Jase had realized he’d been wrong. “And I wasn’t dancing, I went to see him about selling his saloon to the Alpine Sky.”

  Sophie looked concerned for her favorite nightspot. “What does your resort want with the Rusty Wire?”

  “They want to tear it down and build a golf course.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t start. I’m sure there are other bars where you can rub up against your favorite cowboy.”

  “But the Rusty Wire has character. Isn’t it historic or something? No one should be allowed to tear it down.”

  Zoe gave her a sour look. “You’ll be glad to know the owner agrees.”

  “Good.” Sophie chewed her apple thoughtfully. “Hey, is he your hypothetical love interest? I’ve seen him, he’s pretty hot.”

  Zoe scowled. “No.”

  Sophie ignored her, turning to Maggie. “Have you seen him? Totally buff. Fun guy, great sense of humor.”

  “Why don’t you date him?” Zoe muttered, although the idea of Sophie and Jase together grated on her brain cells like gravel against tender flesh, scraping her nerves raw.

  “Nah.” Sophie dismissed the idea. “He’s too old for me. Probably has a girlfriend, anyway. Or five. Seems like there’re always girls hanging around him.”

  She’d noticed that, too. Women liked Jase. Not for the same reason they liked Matt; Jase didn’t have that polished look of success that hung on Matt as if he’d been born with it. Jase was rougher around the edges, outspoken, and blatantly physical. The kind of guy she could imagine spending his days outdoors, bare-chested, doing something sweaty—if only he had that much ambition. It was an important point. The fact that she responded to him on some basic level irritated her more than she cared to admit.

  She huffed and looked away. He
r gaze drifted, taking in a couple carrying shopping bags and a group of teenagers loitering around the bike rack. A familiar laugh drew her attention. Two men and a woman crossed the bridge, heading toward the Silver Nugget, the pricey restaurant overlooking Elkhorn Creek and the slopes of Tappit’s Peak beyond it. She sat up straighter, recognizing David first, then Ruth Ann. Her movement must have caught David’s attention because he raised his eyes to look directly at her.

  His grin grew broader as he gave a cheery wave, which was enough to send warning flags shooting up in her mind. David being friendly couldn’t mean anything good. He hooked his arm possessively through Ruth Ann’s, steering her toward the restaurant and giving Zoe a look at the other man. He turned her way, absently following the direction of David’s wave. Her mouth fell open as she found herself staring at Matt.

  She took it in quickly—her immediate boss, the resort owner, and the president of the company all going to lunch together. Without her. Her shift at the resort didn’t start until 5 p.m., but they knew darn well her job required that she be available for business meetings before then. It might just be a friendly lunch, but the predatory gleam in David’s eyes said he was moving in on her territory and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  Unless Matt invited her to join them.

  Matt grinned at her, said something to his mother, then started toward her. Zoe sat up straighter.

  Both of her sisters turned to follow her gaze. “Who’s that?” Maggie asked.

  “Yummy,” Sophie murmured. “Is that an actor? I don’t recognize him.”

  “That’s my boss.”

  Sophie frowned. “I don’t remember David looking that good. Or that young.”

  “He’s David’s boss, too. He’s the owner’s son, Matt.”

  “Ah.” Sophie contemplated Matt as he cut across the grass. “Money, power, and looks all in one package,” she murmured. “Nice combo.”

  “I had a Ken doll that looked just like him,” Maggie mused, then widened her eyes. “That’s him, isn’t it?” she whispered excitedly.

  “Shhh,” Zoe hissed, glad Matt was so close she didn’t have to answer. Ever since her older sister had fallen madly in love she’d developed radar for spotting it in others. There went Matt’s hypothetical status. She should have let them think her potential The One was Jase.