Meg lifted her head from Liam’s shoulder and sat straighter, frowning with confusion. “Not in California? At all? Where has he been living?”
“He’s been here. In Monroe.”
Liam heard the soft moan that escaped her throat.
“Here? In Monroe?”
Petit nodded. “For the past six months. Before that he lived in Texas. And even though he denied it to you, he’s the one that took out the life insurance policy on you. He’s also the same person who took out the second business insurance policy on Promise House.”
How much could one person take? Liam glanced down at Meg, frozen by the information that detectives provided.
“But why?” The words came out a soft whisper.
“From what we’ve been able to gather from former acquaintances and a business partner of a short-lived trucking venture, gambling debts. Plus, he never—”
“He never forgave me for divorcing him,” Meg finished. The detective nodded. “He’s responsible for all of this?” she asked in disbelief.
“We have him in custody, Meg. He saw the officer we had outside your house and knocked him out before hopping a neighbor’s fence and cutting through to the other side on the street behind yours. They saw him and can identify him. Good thing I had another patrol officer over there.”
“He’s in custody? You have him?” Meg asked, voice trembling.
Hodges nodded. “He’s being booked as we speak.”
Liam glanced up at him. Lifted an eyebrow.
“Arson. First-degree murder, three counts attempted murder, fraud . . . that’s for starters.”
Liam glanced down at Meg, still pale with shock. “He killed Tim Jefferson?”
“Jefferson probably interrupted him the first time he tried to burn the place. We haven’t interrogated him yet, Meg, but we have a feeling he’s behind all of this.”
“But he lives in California . . . he doesn’t gamble . . . a trucking business . . .?”
She looked at them with confusion. Liam didn’t blame her. “He’s responsible for all this?” She moaned softly. “And Tim? He killed Tim?”
“I’m afraid so, Meg,” Petit replied. “He’s been stalking you. We don’t have all the answers. Yet. But we will.”
Meg sagged against Liam. “I can’t believe this. This was all Ray? I don’t understand. Why would he do something like this? Why would he hurt so many people . . .”
No one had an answer for her. Sometimes, there were no easy answers. Meg had only been in his life a short time and already he couldn’t imagine life without her. Ray was obviously not a man who dealt with rejection well. Add debt and failure to the mix and his hatred had boiled over into a plot to not only kill her, but to receive the benefits of her life and business insurance policies, and God knew what else.
“It was all Ray?” She shook her head, obviously not wanting to believe it. “The fifty thousand dollars in my account? Where did that come from?”
“He stole it. Embezzled it from the trucking business. He was hiding it until he could collect it back after you were dead,” Hodges explained.
Meg’s eyes fluttered closed and she took a deep breath. He wrapped his arms around her. He would be there to support her, whether that was as her boyfriend, or just a friend. Whatever she needed.
Meg lifted her head from his shoulder and straightened. “And the man I saw outside the house, the one that broke through the kitchen door? That was Ray?” She glanced at Liam. “Not the bomb maker?”
“Not the bomb maker,” Detective Hodges said, shaking his head. “Similar in build, yes. Apparently, a man Ray hired from Charleston to kill you . . . we have him in custody as well. You’re safe now.”
She looked up at him. “Safe?” She glanced at Petit and then at Hodges again. “It’s over?”
“It’s over.”
24
Meg
The grand re-opening of Promise House was in full swing. The support from her neighbors, the City Council, and the entire town warmed Meg’s heart. It had been six weeks since the fire. Six long, hellish weeks filled with a gamut of emotions. But as she stood next to Liam and watched the throngs of people taking a tour of the repaired shelter, she felt at peace.
The story of what had happened had been in the news for days following Ray’s arrest. That was another challenge she would soon have to face; depositions, statements, court appearances, a victim impact statement . . . but she would face every one of them with as much strength as she could muster.
Some of her old residents had returned; Amy, Monica, and Tanisha. She had been determined to get the shelter back up and running as soon as possible. The work crews had busted their butts. Her insurance, along with generous donations from the community had taken care of most of the structural repairs, so she hadn’t needed to take out a loan.
The crew at the firehouse had sponsored a fundraiser and made enough money for her to buy new furniture for the damaged rooms and even new kitchen appliances. She would never be able to thank them enough. They were all here today: the battalion chief, Mason Rawlings and Sloane, and the others. Dean, who had pulled her out of the attic window that night, and Jeremy, Alex, and Shane.
All dear friends of hers now. And of course Liam, standing next to her, his fingers intertwined with hers. She looked down at their hands and then looked up at him. He was watching her, like he often did, as if afraid to let her out of his sight for long.
She had never been so happy. Despite everything she had gone through, she felt grateful. The dark cloud had lifted. She had met Liam. Made new friends at the firehouse. Became part of a larger family—and had received nothing but support from the entire community.
The last six weeks had been nothing she had ever expected, but something she was ever grateful for. What the future would bring, she had no idea, but one thing she did know: she had fallen in love with him. Hard and fast. Not from adrenaline or fear or out of a need for protection, but because he was one of the most decent guys she had ever known. One she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. One who would stand by her side through all life’s challenges. He was also the hottest man she’d ever known. She let her eyes roam his body. Even fully clothed, just a glance at his hard physique could turn her on.
“You ready?”
She looked up at him, momentarily confused. “Ready for what?”
He smiled as he looked up at the old Victorian. “For the future. For us. For Promise House.”
She smiled and lifted herself on her tiptoes to kiss him. “You bet.”
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Acknowledgments
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About the Author
Hi, I’m Jamie. I live with my husband, two beautiful children and three cats. I loves to read almost as much as I loves to write, and can’t imagine anything better than getting to be an author and writing every day. There is at least one cat draped over the keyboard at all times.
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Fighting the Flames (Southern Heat Book 2) Page 19