by Vella Day
Sasha reached out a hand and clasped Jamie’s. “I’m sorry. I read the paper this morning, but I didn’t see any news about whether they caught anyone.”
“I haven’t heard, but I doubt they have.” If they had a suspect, Max probably would have mentioned it. “Finding an arsonist within twenty-four hours of the blaze is unreasonable, unless the person is trying to get caught.”
The waitress delivered their drinks, and Sasha ordered a chicken Caesar salad, while Jamie went with an old-fashioned hamburger.
“Not that I was spying or anything,” Sasha said, wrapping her hands around her steaming mug, “but I happen to glance out the window this morning, and saw some total hottie pull up in front of the clinic in a black SUV. Wasn’t I surprised when you jumped out.” She sighed. “You get all the luck. I mean—” Her eyes widened, then immediately drew in a breath.
“It’s okay. I’m good. And Max is not my boyfriend.”
It drove her crazy that everyone walked on eggshells around her. Benny had been a good person until he cracked. In his warped mind, he was only trying to take away her pain. Somehow, he never seemed to realize that even if the victims were close to death, it was still murder.
“Tell me about this handsome non-boyfriend.” Sasha gave her that don’t-deny-me-the pleasure-of-living-vicariously-through-you look.
That made Jamie smile. “Not much to tell. Max Gruden is the town’s new fire marshal and arson investigator.”
“Two jobs in one. Impressive.” She glanced to side. “Max Gruden. I like that name. It’s strong, aggressive, powerful sounding.”
Jamie agreed. “He can be aggressive and strong, but he’s nice, too.”
His boisterous laugh when she’d done her bad Al Pacino imitation rang in her head. The sound was as deep as it was rich, which Sasha would no doubt label sexy as hell.
“But he drove you to work.” Sasha winked. “Don’t tell me you were coming from his place this morning.”
“Ah, no.” Jamie was too dumbfounded to explain.
“You can tell me. I’m happy that you have a new beau.” Sasha placed a hand over her heart. “About time, too.”
Jamie tilted her head. “You are so off the mark. Max was at the hospital this morning and happened to be checking up on Jonathan the same time I was. He stopped to speak with a doctor, and when he came out, he saw my car hood up. I couldn’t get Grayson started, so he offered to drive me to work then wait for the tow truck. End of story.”
Sasha sipped her coffee. “Aw. How sweet. Why can’t I find a knight in shining armor like that?”
“You will someday. I have to admit he was rather princely. I was struggling with the car, and poof, he just appeared. A lot of men might have slipped into their vehicles and left, but not Max.”
Sasha snapped her fingers. “Max Gruden. Now I know where I’ve heard that name. Wasn’t he the groomsman you were paired up with at the wedding?”
Jamie sighed. She’d shared too much. “Yes.”
“It’s destiny. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Keep thinking that.”
Sasha laughed. “For helping you out of a jam, you owe him dinner at least.”
She did? Yes. Sasha was right, but it didn’t prevent Jamie from scrunching up her nose. “I don’t think he’d accept.”
While he had been nice and quite the gentleman, both Amber and Zoey had said he wasn’t much into the dating scene, though Jamie had heard rumors to the contrary.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Sasha looked toward the middle of the restaurant, probably to see if anyone had overheard, as her voice had escalated. “It’s the thought that counts.”
Jamie couldn’t take the chance of him turning her down. She’d then know he believed she was too damaged. Jamie had to make up something to keep Sasha from pressuring her into asking him out.
“He’s not my type.” That was partly true.
Sasha set down her drink. “Really? Not your type? You said that Benny was weak and lacked ambition. Max seems to be the opposite. He’s perfect for you.”
Her friend was right, but she wouldn’t admit it. Not yet. “I ran into Max a few months ago at Banner’s Bar. Zoey had invited me to meet her men. Amber, Stone, and Cade were there, too, as well as a few others from the fire and police department.”
“So? Was Max rude or something?”
“No. He sat at the other end of the table, and I swear the man didn’t say a word to anyone the whole time.” She shook her head. “I dubbed him Robot Man.”
Amber had explained that right after that party, the cops, along with Max, had caught the arsonist who’d murdered his family. Only then did Max come out of his shell.
“You didn’t.”
“I did. He was there, but not there, if you know what I mean.” Seeing him now, she found it hard to believe Max had been so withdrawn. He sure had changed a lot. She wanted to believe that if Max could do it, so could she.
Sasha rotated her cup so the handle was parallel to the edge of the table. “All of the men I’ve gone out with have been there, but not there, so I know where you’re coming from. Was he stoic this morning when he came to your rescue?”
Jamie was botching this. “No. He was actually quite charming. Flirty even.”
“There you go. Then why not go after him, girl?”
Sasha was like a woodpecker—determined, unceasing, annoying. “He tries to get into my head.” Actually, he had the uncanny ability to see right through her. It was quite unsettling.
“That’s called interest. I wish I could find a man who wanted to know what I was thinking.”
“I guess.” Jamie sipped her coffee and her insides warmed. Sasha lips pursed. “What?”
Her friend downed the rest of her drink. “For starters, you’re closing yourself off again. You have to let those emotions out.”
“Yeesh. You’re as bad as Zoey.”
“Bad, huh? Well, if you don’t want him, direct him my way.”
Before Jamie could respond, their meal arrived. She blessed the waitress for the distraction. The first bite into the juicy meat made her remember how good food could taste. “Mmm.”
Sasha dug into her salad then leaned back. “Seriously, you have the perfect opportunity to land this guy. I bet he offered to drive you home today. Am I not right?”
“Yes, but I hate to inconvenience him, and secondly, I don’t want to land him. Besides, he experienced a trauma when his family died in a fire. He doesn’t need to be around a basket case like me.”
Sasha shook her head. “What are you talking about? You’re a catch, girl. You need to believe that and start living again. If you don’t, I swear you’re going to blow away. Every day you get tinier.”
“I’m not that bad. I’ve been working long hours, and sometimes don’t have time to fix a meal.”
Sasha’s eyes widened. “I thought you said you passed through the denial stage a while ago? Seems to me, you need to take a trip around the board again. This time, make sure to pass Go and collect your two hundred dollars.”
“Funny.” What Sasha said was true. “If you must know, after what happened at the clinic the other night, I’ve decided it was time to take charge of my life. So there.” But was she ready to dip her toe into the dating pool? The memories and betrayal were still raw.
“Good for you. I say, ask him out. What’s the worst thing he can say?”
“No?”
Sasha shrugged. “At least you’ll know where you stand.”
“You’re right.” She exhaled. “I’ll do it.”
Sasha grinned.
Dear God in Heaven.
Chapter Eight
For the rest of the afternoon, Sasha’s advice reverberated in Jamie’s head. She did owe Max for helping her, but his rejection would hurt. She could hear the conversation now. She’d ask him to a thank you-dinner, and he’d say that she didn’t really owe him. Then she’d feel like a fool. Not asking him, however, would make her look ungrateful
.
Because Max knew all about her history with Benny, he might not be interested in a woman who dated a man with emotional issues. It wouldn’t matter that she hadn’t realized Benny had been so unstable. She’d dated him in part because when she moved to Rock Hard, Benny had been there to pick up the pieces. Jamie’s relationship with her mom had been rocky after her dad died, and they’d only gotten worse with time.
God, but she was so confused. Even if she decided to pursue Max, and if he wasn’t put off by her past, was he willing to have a woman in his life? Seemed to her, if he wanted one, he’d have found someone already.
“Jamie?” The Admitting nurse called to her and waved a folder. “Your next patient.”
“Thanks.”
For the remainder of the afternoon, Jamie pushed aside thoughts of Max Gruden and focused on her job. Her shift was almost over, and she needed to let Yolanda know about her need to leave on time.
Jamie found her boss in the hallway, studying a chart. “Hey, Yolanda. I need to leave at five today. Would that be okay?” Her boss’s brows knitted together for a moment, then relaxed. Jamie rarely left when her shift ended. The long hours kept her mind from thinking, but tonight Max’s schedule came first.
“I heard about your car. I’m so sorry. You catching a ride with someone?”
“Yes.”
Yolanda placed a hand on Jamie’s arm. “I forgot to ask, how is your friend doing? Burns are scary.”
“He’s heavily sedated. With my car out of service for a while, my visits will have to wait.” Jamie didn’t feel right asking Max to stop at the hospital on his way to her house. She’d inconvenienced him enough.
Her boss nodded. “I can attest to how hard it is without having a ride. Do what you need to do.”
“Thank you.”
At four, she texted Max: Is your offer still good to drive me home? I can be ready by five, but can stay here until nine if that’s better for you.
Seconds later, he replied: 5’s fine.
Jitters raced up her spine. It was dumb to be nervous. She was just hitching a ride home. Nothing more.
During the last hour of the day, Jamie rushed around like a madwoman in an effort to avoid dwelling on her impending conversation with Max. She’d decided since he seemed to care for Jonathan, he might be willing to ask his cop friend, Trent, to help locate Charlotte. Jamie couldn’t decide if she should ask for her favor before or after she asked Max out. When she’d decided to take the plunge and see if he’d have dinner with her, she didn’t know. But now that she’d made the decision, she was almost excited. She hoped he said yes.
Not long after his text, someone knocked on the office door. It was Sasha.
She leaned against the doorframe and smiled. “A handsome man is in the waiting room for you.”
Was it really five already? Where had the hour gone? “Tell him I’ll be there in a sec.” Damn. She shouldn’t have made him get out of his car.
“You got it.” Sasha rushed out.
Jamie ducked into the bathroom to make sure she didn’t have some random pen marks on her face. The dark circles under her eyes appeared more pronounced than this morning, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Once she refreshed her lipstick, Jamie hurried out to meet him.
Here goes. She pressed her hands down her jacket. As soon as she spotted Max, an overly strong visceral reaction shot up her body. With effort, she tamped it down. She had a favor to ask him and a favor to repay. That was all, or so she wanted to believe.
Max’s face was heavily shadowed, but it intensified the bad boy look. The brown leather Bomber jacket, straight-legged jeans, and boots added to the image. What really wasn’t fair was that he looked better after working eight hours than when he’d dropped her off.
Eyes straight ahead, she strode toward him. “Thanks for the lift.” She sounded confident and in control. Good. His lips tilted up for a second as if he found her attempt at normalcy amusing.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Like before, he held open the clinic door for her. “Had to park a block away. Sorry.”
“No problem.” She stepped onto the sidewalk and a car whizzed by on the street. She didn’t know what it was about this time of year, but the streets had more traffic than usual.
When they reached his vehicle, Max made sure she was seated before rushing to the driver’s side. Now came the hard part—asking the favor.
She waited until they’d turned off First Street before broaching the topic. “Can I ask you something?”
He glanced at her. “About?”
“Jonathan Rambler has a daughter named Charlotte. They haven’t spoken in years, but I think she should know about her father’s condition.”
He winced. “I agree. What can I do?”
His willingness was a relief. “I thought maybe you could ask Trent to look into her whereabouts?”
“I’ll be happy to try. Where does Charlotte live?”
“I don’t know. Jonathan never said.”
Max turned on Nugget Road. “The RHPD’s data bases are rather extensive, but mostly for criminals. Can you give me anything else to go on? Trent won’t be able to spare much manpower for this search.”
“I understand. Jonathan said his daughter’s my age.” Max raised a brow, and she didn’t miss the slight jerk of his head. “I’m thirty. Did you think I was eighteen or something?” Probably because she was so short and thin, most people told her she looked younger.
“More like twenty-five.” It looked like he was working hard not to smile.
That was better than eighteen. “Jonathan said he grew up in Montana, if that helps.”
“It might. Is his daughter married?” His serious demeanor returned.
“Divorced, I think.”
He tapped his fingers on the wheel. “I’ll pass the request onto Trent, but I can’t promise anything. If you can think of something else that might help let me know.”
She didn’t know much more. “We didn’t talk a lot. He mostly told me knock-knock jokes, and that was about it.”
Max seemed to be fighting another smile. “My grandfather used to tell them to me all the time when I was little.”
“That’s sweet. Sounds like you had a happy childhood.”
She hoped that wasn’t too personal, but he’d spent a large portion of the wedding delving into her life, and now Jamie wanted to know more about him.
“It had its ups and downs. We didn’t have much money, which stressed out my folks. They always worried they couldn’t provide for us kids. My grandparents, on the other hand, had less money, but it didn’t seem to bother them as much. They were always happy. That was why I loved visiting them.”
“Did they live far from you?”
A dreamy look crossed his face for a moment. “Nope. Just down the street.”
She leaned back her head, picturing Max running over to his grandmother’s house for a snack and watching her cook. “I never knew my grandparents.”
He glanced over at her. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” She turned her attention back to Jonathan, trying to think what other clue he might have given about his daughter. “Jonathan did mention he’d served overseas. He has some shrapnel in his calf from unfriendly fire. Maybe the military has a listing of his family.”
“Outstanding. Did he say which branch of service?”
Jamie searched her mind. “Army, I think, but I can’t be certain. Sorry.”
“That might help, but over the next few days, try to remember if he mentioned Charlotte’s last name, what she did for a living, or even what her husband might have done for work.”
“I’ll try.” Jonathan’s ramblings surfaced. “This is probably nothing, but when I was visiting him this morning, he was talking in his sleep.”
Max’s grip tightened on the wheel. “What did he say?”
“I’m sure it was meaningless babble, but he mentioned forty-seven.” She didn’t know
why she even brought it up. It didn’t relate to Charlotte.
Max glanced over at her. “Just forty-seven?”
“As opposed to what?”
“Maybe it’s an address. Like 47 Arbor Way or 47 Emerson Street.”
Those were streets in Rock Hard. “He just said the number. I think I asked him what he meant, and then he said the word concut. At first I thought he might have been trying to say Connecticut, but I have no proof.”
Max tapped his fingers as if he thought her friend’s ramblings really had meaning. “Anything else?”
“Just no, no. And then monster truck.”
He shot her another look. “Monster truck?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know there’s a Monster Truck Rally coming to Rock Hard in a few weeks?”
She leaned back. “No, I didn’t, but that might be it. Maybe he dreamed of going.” Like she did. A wistful memory washed over her. “My dad used to take me to all kinds of automobile shows when I was little. My favorite was demolition derby.”
Max chuckled. “Is that how you became interested in fixing cars?”
“Yes. My dad was good with engines, too.”
Since Max seemed to be in a good mood, she contemplated asking him to dinner right now. Or would it be more appropriate to wait until they were at her house? She pictured both outcomes, and decided it would be less awkward if she waited.
As soon as he passed SR25, she wiped her damp palms on her legs. He’d never been to her home, so she gave him directions. “That’s my street.”
Once she pointed to her house, he pulled in front, put the SUV in park, and jumped out. Benny never opened the door for her, but she found she liked it. The door opened and she stepped out.
Max was inches from her, and she had to look up. “Once again, thanks.”
“My pleasure.” He held up a finger as if he’d forgotten something. “I spoke with the mechanic, and he told me your starter was bad. I hope it was okay that I gave him the go ahead to replace it. I knew you weren’t planning on purchasing a new car.”
“That’s fine. I would have said yes, too. But the starter? That’s going to cost a lot.”