Night of Fire

by Nico Rosso

  The judge passed the papers to the court clerk who then began to read. “We, the jury in the above titled action, find the defendant . . .”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Defendant not guilty.

  They were only three words. But for Kelly they were three words that had taken all the wonderful things she believed about life and made them hideous.

  Surrounded by the scent of caramel, and chocolate, and cinnamon raisin bread warm from the oven, Kelly propped her head up with one hand and shoveled another bite of chocolate chip cheesecake into her mouth with the other. When the golden retriever at her feet begged for a taste, Kelly guarded her plate like security at Fort Knox.

  “Dream on, pooch.”

  The smooth dessert melted in her mouth while she studied the small office in which she’d sequestered herself a little over an hour ago. A calendar on the wall denoted “Sweet Sale” days at the Sugar Shack, the bakery established by her parents, now run by her kid sister, Kate. On the dinged-up desk sat a faded photo of her parent’s wedding thirty-six years ago, and a photo of Kate’s wedding to Deer Lick’s new sheriff, taken just seven short months ago. Ceiling to floor shelves lined the back wall where a rainbow of sugar sprinkles, edible sparkles, and candy crunches lined up cap-to-cap next to an array of both PG and X-rated cake pans. Enormous differences existed between the Silverthorne women. While her mother had once created basic cakes with buttercream icing, her sister Kate’s creations reflected her imaginative and often racy specialty cakes. Kelly, though she had a talent for making kickass fudge, couldn’t fashion a buttercream rose to save her life.

  She glanced back up to her parents’ wedding photo and studied the faded print of her mother who’d died suddenly last fall. Mixed emotions rumbled around inside her heart as she thought of the last time she’d spoken to the woman who’d given her life. Well, the last time she’d heard her mother’s voice. Kelly had placed her scheduled weekly call expecting their conversation would go as usual. Fluff calls, she’d come to name them because they’d become little more than generalities.

  On that last call her mother had been too busy to talk. Several days later she’d returned the call but Kelly had been in court and unable to talk. It seemed like that had become the pattern of their relationship. Mom was always too busy, and when she’d find time Kelly would be unable to connect.

  Kelly shoveled in another bite of cheesecake, closed her eyes, and swallowed her guilt. She’d worked in this bakery beside her family from the time she’d been old enough to hold a mixing spoon in her hand until the day she’d left for Northwestern University. Today, the place felt foreign and isolation echoed in her soul.

  Her fault.

  Like the inexorable loss of her mother, the events of the past month slammed through her head as if she still stood on that courtroom floor fighting for a justice that would be denied. Fighting for the rights of a woman whose life had been ripped away by a monster. A fiend now able to roam free because she hadn’t convinced the jury of his crime.

  Her fault.

  She’d pushed for that arrest. Pushed for an indictment with the grand jury. Pushed for a homicide case without a corpse.

  Nausea and half a mountainous slice of cheesecake roiled through her stomach as she visualized the disbelief on the faces of the victim’s family when the verdict had come down. The family she’d promised that she’d get a conviction.

  In her mind she could still hear the collective gasp echo across the chamber walls. She heard the grief and torment in the family’s voices when they’d pointed their fingers at her and her fellow prosecutor and accused them of incompetence. Of failure.

  She’d been so sure.

  But she’d been wrong.

  She’d never been wrong before. Never lost a case. Never led so many innocent people into such a clusterfuck of bad judgment, poor execution, and weak evidence. Not once since she’d been an intern with the state attorney’s office had she ever been doubted. Until that verdict had come in. The eyes that followed her out of that courtroom and back down the hall to her office had been teeming with accusation and disappointment.

  She’d failed each and every one of them.

  Horribly.

  She’d lost her touch. Lost her confidence. And she had no idea where to go from here.

  Her sister’s monstrous golden retriever pup curled around Kelly’s feet and groaned as though he could read her thoughts.

  “Nice try, Happy.”

  The pup looked up at her with big understanding brown eyes, but no one could imagine the agony and guilt that spun a toxic web around her heart. Not even the man who’d stood beside her in that courtroom for months. When the verdict came down, he’d shrugged as if it didn’t matter. For him, maybe it hadn’t. She’d been the one who’d had to face the family, the media, the critics. She’d been the lead on the case.

  Her fault.

  The office door opened and her sister with her shiny auburn hair and clashing pink apron barged into the office. The dog got up to greet her and his long furry tail swept the floor in a happy wag.

  “When you said you needed to hide out, I didn’t think you meant literally.” Kate used her foot to scoot a chair out from the wall and she plopped down. She leaned her forearms on her knees and she studied Kelly for a good long moment. “You look like hell, big sister.”

  “I imagine that’s an understatement.” Kelly leaned back against the rickety chair in which her mother had sat to order flour and sugar for over three decades. “I haven’t slept much since the verdict came in.”

  “You did your best, Kel.”

  “Did I?” The pressure between Kelly’s eyes intensified.

  “Yes,” Kate insisted. “You used every bit of evidence you had. Your arguments were clear and concise. You led the jury down a path where they could visualize the timeline and the crime. It’s hard to win a murder case without a corpse.” Kate leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Kelly’s shoulders. “What more could you have done?”

  “That’s what I keep asking myself.”

  Kate gave her a squeeze then leaned back. “Well, you’re home now. And if anybody in the press shows up to harass you I will personally kick their ass.” Kate’s brows lifted. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “It feels good to be home.”

  “You say that now, but wait until you’re tucked into that lumpy twin bed tonight and you hear dad snoring from down the hall.”

  Kelly smiled for the first time in weeks. “Icing on the cake.”

  “Speaking of . . . I hate to impose but would you mind giving me a hand out front? I’ve got a few orders I need to box up and I still have to ice two dozen cupcakes for Mary Clancy’s baby shower. Dad’s busy with a batch of dinner rolls.”

  “You don’t hate to impose, but I’d be happy to help anyway.” Kelly shoveled the last bit of cheesecake into her mouth, stood, and grabbed an apron off the hook on the wall.

  “Good thing you came home wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of your usual lawyer regalia.”

  Kelly draped the apron over her head and nodded. She didn’t think now was the right time to tell her sister she had doubts she’d ever wear another Brooks Brothers suit. Her colossal failure had led to a murderer’s freedom—and there was no doubt in her mind that Andrew Colson had murdered his wife. She couldn’t afford to screw up again.

  Someone’s life may depend on it.

  She followed Kate out of the small office tying an apron around her waist and preparing herself to dive back into life in Deer Lick. She’d taken a leave of absence to attend her brother’s wedding. But she’d also come home to hide. To lick her wounds. To overcome her guilt. If that was even possible. She hadn’t quite planned to shovel cookies and cupcakes into white boxes, but that’s exactly what she was about to do.

  As she passed him in the kitchen she gave her dad a quick kiss on t
he cheek then headed toward the front counter. A glance over the top of the glass display case indicated a number of patrons reading the menu or pointing out sugary delights they intended to take home. Kelly’s gaze skipped over the fresh Neapolitan ice cream colors of the shop, the vintage photo of her mom and dad on the Sugar Shack’s opening day, and came to a sliding stop near the door. Back turned toward her, a wide set of khaki-clad shoulders blocked the summer’s glare off the patrol car parked outside.

  She sucked back a groan.

  Apparently karma wasn’t done playing gotcha.

  Her hands stilled on the apron ties. Her heart knocked against her ribs. The knot in her stomach pulled tight. On the other side of the lunch counter stood another of her monumental screw-ups.

  As if she’d called his name, he turned his sandy blonde head. His brown eyes brightened and a smile tipped the corners of lips that were sinfully delicious. She knew. She’d tasted them.

  She took a wobbly step backward.

  In her thirty-two years she’d been struck with accusatory scowls from a judgmental mother and murderous glares from convicted felons, but nothing had ever hit her below the belt like a smile bursting with sexual promise from one of Deer Lick’s finest.

  Deputy James Harley.

  His intense gaze perused her body like he was on the cruise of a lifetime and enjoying the trip. He’d looked at her that same way just a few months ago—braced above her on arms thick with muscle while the rest of his hot, hard body did the talking.

  A tingle ignited from her head, sizzled like a fuse down the front of her shirt, and detonated beneath the zipper on her jeans. Her skin turned hot and a flush crept up her chest. All thanks to the memory of one night in James Harley’s bed.

  As a deputy sheriff he’d sworn to serve and protect. During the hours she’d spent rolling in his sheets, he’d done both. At least from what she remembered.

  The night of Kate’s wedding reception, Kelly knew she should have stayed focused on carrying out her maid-of-honor duties. But one too many glasses of exceptional champagne had dislodged a few of her bolts and screws and she’d completely given herself over to whim and mind-bending orgasms. Afterward, she’d made a promise to herself to get a serious handle on the sometimes uncontainable urges that never ceased to embarrass the hell out of her. Even if they did provide a real jolt of excitement.

  She blinked away the sweaty memory of the hot, sexy man on the opposite side of the counter, sucked in a breath, and stepped up beside Kate. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Could you box up that chocolate cake and then fill James’s lunch order?”

  Crap. “Sure.” Kill me now. Please.

  Her hands uncharacteristically trembled as she opened a pastry box and lifted Dr. Robinson’s double chocolate birthday cake from the display case. She didn’t know why her stomach was so keyed up. She’d spent the last seven years in the heat of the spotlight, prosecuting some of the dirtiest criminals in the state of Illinois, and she’d never once been nervous.

  So why did taking a lunch order seem so damned intimidating?

  With a smile she handed the pastry box over the counter to Dr. Robinson’s nurse and rang up the bill on the register. She closed the cash drawer and wiped her hands down the front of her apron, leaving a streak of chocolate. When she looked up hot cop was standing at the lunch counter. Muscled arms expanded from beneath his short uniform sleeves while the fitted shirt hugged his wide chest and slim waist. Kelly knew that beneath all that khaki fabric was a talented body of pure strength and muscle. A very talented body.

  God, her thoughts were a train wreck.

  She grabbed the pencil and order pad. “Can I help you?”

  A smile crinkled the corners of his brown eyes and a slow blink swept long, dark lashes across his cheeks. “You’re back.”

  “Apparently.”

  He chuckled. “And you’re not happy to see me.”

  “I’m not not happy to see you.”

  “Okay then. I’ll take that for starters.”

  Oh, no. His days of taking from her were over. She was on a save your soul and sanity mission. No boys allowed. “And what would you like to eat?”

  The spark in his eyes guaranteed she wouldn’t need a Geiger counter to detect what he was thinking. “Sandwich, Deputy Harley. What kind would you like?”

  “I’d like two tuna subs. No tomato. Two iced teas.” He settled a lean hip against the counter. “And your phone number.”

  A laugh escaped before she could stop it. “That will be nine fifty-six.”

  “Is that a no?” He reached into his back pocket, withdrew a worn leather wallet, and handed her a twenty.

  Her fingers curled around the money. “I’m sure you have all the numbers you can handle.”

  James held on to the cash, just to be able to touch her for half a second. “I’d be willing to throw all those numbers away in exchange.”

  Since she was a pro and could read a lie a mile away she probably thought he was bullshitting her. But he’d never been more serious.

  One night with Kelly Silverthorne hadn’t been nearly enough. Once she’d hightailed it out of town he’d tried to discount the hours he’d spent with her in his arms but it had been impossible. Now here she was again. And everything inside of him was buzzing with awareness.

  As expected she looked up and studied his face like he’d been named a prime suspect. He knew that look. On the job he’d used it himself once or twice.

  “Without all those phone numbers what would you do on a rainy day, Deputy?” Her head tilted just slightly and her ivory hair fanned like silk across her shoulder. “I’d hate to be the cause of your ultimate frustration.”

  “Nice jab, Counselor.” James steadied his breath as he watched her delicate fingers punch the amount into the register and slide the cash into the drawer. Kelly Silverthorne was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. And he’d seen plenty. From the second grade he’d watched her, admired her, and had probably had a crush on her even though the only glances she’d ever returned had been rife with warnings to keep his distance.

  The night she’d ended up in his bed? No one could have been more surprised. Oh, he wasn’t about to complain. No way. The counselor was hot. And sweet. And way out of his league. Though he knew he’d had his one and only shot with her, he craved her like a decadent dessert or a fine wine. One taste was just not enough to satisfy.

  He watched as she grabbed the sandwich rolls, cautiously sliced through them, and spread a thin layer of mayonnaise across the surface. She topped the bread with perfectly rounded scoops of tuna salad and carefully placed leaves of crunchy lettuce on top. Every movement was smooth and calculated as if she’d be judged on her placement and presentation.

  In an attempt to gain control over his body and all the odd stirrings around his heart, he looked away. A quick glance at the two sisters revealed the vast differences. Kate, his best friend’s new wife, was a bit taller and looked as if in a scrap she could hold her own. Her straight auburn hair displayed a meager reflection of her fiery personality. Whereas Kelly, a few inches shorter, teetered on the more delicate side. She looked like a woman a man would jump to protect. Her long ivory hair had a soft curl that made her glow like sunshine.

  He smiled.

  At least she’d lit up his world. For a night.

  “So what made you leave the windy city and come all the way back to our little town?” he asked as she wrapped each sandwich in white paper as carefully as if she’d been swaddling a newborn.

  “Just needed a break.” She slid the packaged sandwich into a crisp white bag.

  “Most people who need a break hit a tropical beach. Not some dusty back road to nowhere.”

  “Maybe nowhere is exactly where I want to be.” She shoved the second sandwich into the bag a little less carefully.

  W
hoa. Was it his imagination or was he detecting some underlying aggression?

  “Well, I’m sure your family will be happy to have you around for a little while,” he said, watching her graceful fingers fold down the top of the bag.

  She gave him no response as she set the bag on the counter, grabbed two paper cups, and began to fill them with iced tea.

  “So . . . exactly how long of a little while will that be?” he asked.

  The glass pitcher thunked on the counter and tea sloshed up the sides. “The length of my stay is really no concern of yours, Deputy Harley.”

  “True. But I’m more than willing to change that if you are.”

  A smile tilted her soft, full lips. “You really are incorrigible.”

  He mirrored her expression. “It’s a cross I bear.”

  She set the cups of tea down in front of him and pushed plastic caps over the rims. “I hope you enjoy your lunch, Deputy Harley. Please do come again soon.”

  “Is that an invitation?” Say yes, Angelface.

  Her delicate brows pulled together over sea green eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “As a tortoise trying to cross the road.”

  “I’m sorry, Deputy—”

  “I think we know each other well enough to be on a first name basis, don’t you?” Her slight hesitation gave him hope.

  “Like I said, I’m sorry, Deputy, I’m not here to engage in anything other than some rest and relaxation. I need a break. Not an opportunity to . . . lose control,” she whispered.

  James smiled. He knew exactly how loudly Kelly lost control. And exactly what made her lose it. Then again, he was more than willing to invent new techniques to make that happen too. Even if it took all night. Please, God, let it take all night.

  If Princess Prosecutor imagined him as a man who gave up easily she’d be very wrong.

  “You know . . .” He leaned closer and spoke low for her ears only. “If you give me your number you might just have a little fun losing a little control for the little while you’re here.” He lifted the bag and cups from the counter, stepped back, and gave her a good long appreciative once over. “Or is that what you’re afraid of?”