Cold Dawn

by Susan Sleeman

  “Yeah,” she said feeling like a fraud when she couldn’t find her way past the issue with her parents.

  “See, the thing is.” He paused and shook his head. “I don’t see anything positive out of Stretch’s death.”

  “You might not. I mean, God doesn’t promise we will. That’s where trust comes in, I guess.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. But also held something back. Like he wasn’t happy about agreeing with her.

  She searched her brain for a way to help him. “What about the lives you’re saving as a firefighter? As a medic? Those are both very positive things that came out of you leaving the SEALs.”

  “Yeah, I guess. But I saved lives as a SEAL, too.”

  “You’re right and maybe we just can’t see the reason now. Part of being okay with how things turn out is not questioning the way they do.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “If only it was that easy.”

  She heard him. How she heard him. She was such a fraud. Spouting words her pastor said when she didn’t live them in her own life. Somehow, that had to change. She had to change if she didn’t want to let it fester and affect the rest of her life.

  She wanted to let it go. For the first time. She was done being mad. Done with living life alone.

  Problem was she didn’t know how to make that change.

  Walter Nobles didn’t look at all like his name. Griff expected someone with sort of a regal stance, but Walter—or Walt, as he asked them to call him—was in his fifties, carried extra pounds around his middle, hadn’t shaved in days, and his shirt was stained with soda that dripped from a plastic bottle as he guzzled it.

  He scratched the gray stubble on his chin. “Now, what can I do for the two of you?”

  Sam sat forward in her chair. “We’re here to talk about your properties.”

  “Sure. Sure.” He set the bottle on his cluttered desk. “I have several for sale. You interested in buying one of them?”

  Sam shook her head. “We’re interested in the cannery business.”

  Griff liked how she made it sound like they wanted to work in the business to find out if Nobles really was struggling, making arson a strong possibility.

  “The business?” He raised his gaze to the ceiling. “Not a good time to get into it, I’m afraid. All the regulations and changing weather makes it hard to turn a profit.”

  “But you’re making it, right?”

  “Yes and no. But what else can I do? I’ve been at it since I was a kid working for my dad. Those were the days. No global warming. Less government interference.” He sighed a long, drawn-out exhale of air.

  “So you’re struggling, then?” she asked innocently enough, but Griff could feel her moving in for the kill.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  She nodded understandingly. “And might need some cash infusion in the business.”

  “Never hurts.” He chuckled.

  She laid a piece of paper in front of him listing the addresses for the three arson properties. His smile fled.

  She locked her gaze on him. “We’re interested in finding out why you torched these buildings.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You hid your ownership well, but your skills are no match for my team.” She slapped a business card on the desk and slid it toward him. “Blackwell Tactical. Ever heard of us?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He crossed his arms. “Most people in the county have. So what?”

  “So you must know then that we provide protection services and train law enforcement.”

  “I do, but don’t see what that has to do with me.”

  “We also investigate crimes. Like arson of your buildings and the murder of Andy Hollis.”

  “Murder?” His face paled, his ruddy complexion as white as the paper. “I heard someone was squatting on the property and died, but not that he was murdered.”

  “Guess Sheriff Jenkins hasn’t gotten around to questioning you, then.”

  “Why would he?”

  “You own the property.”

  “I don’t—”

  Sam flashed up a hand. “Look. You can keep trying to deny ownership of the buildings and torching them, but we won’t give up until you’re behind bars for arson, so why waste our time and yours?”

  He tugged his belt up and sat up straighter. “Fine. I own the places. No biggie. I didn’t burn them and certainly didn’t kill this Andy fella, and you have no proof I did.”

  “Don’t we?” Sam took her time leaning back in her chair and casually crossing her legs. “Are you sure you didn’t leave a trace behind? Like fingerprints. Shoe prints. Fibers.”

  He watched her for a long time. “Sure, maybe you’ll find those things at my buildings, but why wouldn’t you? I own them and have been there like a million times.”

  Griff knew he had a point, but Sam still kept her gaze locked on the man. “We’re not interested in the million times. Only on the days of the fires.”

  “I have an alibi for each one. Was at the bowling alley. My team can vouch for me each time.”

  “Your alibis mean nothing,” Sam snapped. “Fires can be started with a timed device.”

  He flung his hand up. “Then show me the device or any evidence of one. Otherwise, you got nothing.”

  Griff hated to admit it, but he believed the guy didn’t set these fires. He was too sure of himself. Didn’t mean he didn’t hire someone to commit arson, but Griff thought Nobles had kept his own hands clean.

  “See, here’s the thing, Nobles.” Sam leaned closer. “It’s pretty obvious that three of your buildings recently going up in flames isn’t coincidental. You may not have started the fires yourself, but you could easily have paid someone to do it. If you did, we’ll find him.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “You may be acting all smug,” she went on so strong and sure of herself that Griff was impressed. “But we now have proof that Andy’s death wasn’t accidental and the ME has declared it a homicide.”

  “Sorry a guy died and someone killed him, but I had nothing to do with it.” Nobles swigged the last of his drink and tossed the bottle in the trash.

  “Hey,” Griff said, making sure he sounded outraged. “We have bottle return in this state. Don’t be filling our landfill with plastic.”

  Nobles waved it off. “Don’t have time for that.”

  “Well, I do.” Griff got up and carefully picked up the bottle to keep from smudging any of Nobles’ fingerprints.

  “Knock yourself out.” Nobles stood. “Now if you two will excuse me, I have things to do.”

  “Like what?” Griff asked. “Torch another property?”

  “Get out!” Nobles rose up and shook his finger at the door.

  Griff took his time meandering to the door, stopping to look back at Nobles. “Blackwell Tactical always succeeds. Always. So think on that.”

  Outside, Sam caught up to him. “You shouldn’t mess with that guy. He could be dangerous.”

  “I wasn’t just messing with him. I’m hoping that making him mad will cause him to take action and lead us to the arsonist.”

  15

  Sam disconnected her phone call to Emory and rubbed her eyes. She’d spent hours in the truck beside Griff in a secluded location watching Freshest Seafood, but Nobles hadn’t shown his face once, nor did anyone arrive to meet with him. She and Griff both believed that Nobles didn’t actually start the fire, but they were hoping he would panic and lead them to the person who did.

  “You get everything squared away?” Griff lowered his binoculars to look at her.

  She nodded. “Riley’s still with Emory, and he’ll fly her back to Portland. We can keep watching Nobles.”

  “Coop’s not flying again?”

  She shook her head. “Kiera’s been having labor pains all afternoon. He wants to stick close to home.”

  “Totally get it. I’d want to do the same thing.” The longing in Griff’s tone cut Sam to the quick.


  He would be an amazing father. Truly amazing like his dad. Patient, generous, and loving. She could easily imagine little Griffs running around. Easily imagine they were her children, too. But the reality of it all was when Griff had kids, they wouldn’t be with her.

  Sadness invaded her heart, and the truck suddenly seemed too warm. She lowered the window and poked her head out to let the air wash over and cool her skin.

  “Sam?” Griff leaned closer. “Are you okay?”

  She was worrying him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’m fine. Just hot.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded and forced her mind back to business. That she could handle without feeling like she might throw up. In her mind, she ran through the conversation she’d just had with Emory. She was such a good friend and Sam hadn’t kept in touch with her any more than she’d done with Andy. No reason. Just busyness.

  “You don’t look fine,” Griff said.

  She pulled her head into the cab and forced a smile to ease his concern. She couldn’t tell him she’d been thinking about having children with him, but she could mention Emory. “I feel bad about not flying back with Emory. Here I beg her to come help me, and then I abandon her.”

  He stared at her, clearly not convinced this was the main thing bothering her, but she wouldn’t admit her other thoughts. The discussion would be painful for both of them.

  He lifted his binoculars again. “Emory seems like she would understand.”

  “She said she does, but still…” Sam shrugged.

  “Still, you’re a good friend and want to do the right thing.”

  “Especially after failing Andy.” Sam laid her head back against the seat, but she felt Griff’s gaze return to her, and she sat up again.

  “We’re going to find his killer,” he said.

  She sighed and pulled a hand through her hair. “No…I mean, I should have been there for him more.”

  She laid her head back on the seat. What if she had tried to stay close to Andy? Even then, it’s not like she could control him.

  She rubbed her forehead.

  “You okay?” His eyes filled with concern.

  “Yes.” She couldn’t say more when he was looking at her that way.

  He rested the binoculars on his knee, studying her for a long moment, then raised them again. “I’ve got this if you want to take a nap.”

  Is that what she wanted? Not really. She just didn’t want to have all these feelings for Griff in the close confines of the pickup. Who was she kidding? Just seeing him sparked memories and lingering feelings. Questions, too. Ones she couldn’t answer.

  She may not want to feel this way, but she did want to find Andy’s killer. That she was sure of. “What I need is to find something that’s actionable. Anything but sitting here spinning our wheels. We’ve spent enough time watching this guy when we could be checking out the storage unit. Or even go back to the compound to see if Eryn’s done with the phone. And I can run Nobles’ prints on the soda bottle then get it to Emory to run DNA.”

  He kept staring at the building. “Won’t Eryn text you if we’re not there and she finishes?”

  “Yeah.” Sam shifted into a position where she could see the building better and pounded a fist on the dash. “Come on, Nobles. Come out.”

  “Maybe if you ask nicer.” Griff chuckled.

  Her heart was still heavy, and she couldn’t find any humor. “You think Nobles knows we’re watching him and that’s why he hasn’t come out?”

  “No way.” Griff pressed his lips together and fired her a testy look. “I’m good at what I do, and covert surveillance is a big part of what I used to do.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just…we spooked him enough to act, but maybe he’s more confident than I thought.”

  “Or he could’ve simply made a phone call.”

  She hadn’t considered that. “Too bad I didn’t plan ahead and bring a listening device.”

  “You couldn’t know we would initiate this stakeout and need it.”

  Her phone buzzed, and she dug it from her pocket. “Speaking of Eryn. She says the phone’s still imaging, but she has news about the cell data from Andy’s provider. Her contact will get it to her tomorrow.”

  “Great news.” A big smile replaced his irritation. “We might have Andy’s phone now, but he could’ve deleted texts and cleared his call history. The provider will have that information, though.”

  “And knowing who he talked to or texted with on the day of the fire could be the lead we need.” Sam caught movement out of the corner of her eye and shifted to look. “Nobles is leaving.”

  Griff took a long look then dropped his binoculars on the seat and started the truck. “And we’re a go.”

  He eased the vehicle down the road behind Nobles’ black Mercedes, and hung back a respectable distance. As Griff said, he was good at surveillance, and he was ensuring that Nobles didn’t see them. They trailed the Mercedes through the small resort town with souvenir shops, fresh seafood places, and an arcade with a beach theme to a quiet and affluent neighborhood.

  The sun was dropping behind the pricey homes with putting-green lawns and lights shining from the windows. Sam could easily imagine families gathered around big tables for dinner, sharing about their day. She didn’t grow up in an expensive home like many of these, but she did have the family dinner experience most nights.

  A sharp pang of longing hit her. She missed her parents. Her sisters. Gathering for their weekly Sunday meal.

  Seriously, what was with all of these emotions? She hadn’t experienced such a deep yearning for family in years. Not since her dad cheated, and she’d said goodbye to Griff. She glanced at him behind the wheel. His posture was nearly perfect. His profile strong and rugged. And yet, he had the tenderest heart of any man she’d ever dated. He was the complete package, and she’d ended it all because her dad’s cheating made her lose trust in men.

  Was she wrong? Should she have talked to Griff and told him about her dad? Given him a chance to declare his loyalty and his commitment not to stray?

  He cranked the wheel and turned down a street lined with tall trees. “Nobles isn’t likely meeting an arsonist in this neighborhood. Probably lives here.”

  Sam stowed her thoughts and took stock of their surroundings again. The homes were getting larger and grander as they drove deeper into the neighborhood.

  She got out her phone. “I’ll text Eryn for his home address to confirm this is where he lives.”

  “If it is, and he did start the fires for insurance money, I wouldn’t doubt he’s struggling not to lose his house.”

  “And he might do anything to keep it.” Sam sent the text, and Eryn soon replied. “This is his street.”

  Sam peered through the darkening skies to catch the numbers on the house. “His place should be on the right a few blocks ahead.”

  Nobles slowed and turned into a driveway near a cul-de-sac and parked.

  Griff pulled to the curb where Sam could still see the house, and Griff could make out details with the binoculars, but Nobles wouldn’t spot them.

  She slid forward for a better view. “How long do you want to hang here?”

  He grabbed the binoculars. “I’d like to say as long as it takes to see who he might meet with, but I doubt that’s going to happen. It’s not likely an arsonist is going to be welcome in his home.”

  “Why don’t I call Gage and have him send out a team to take over the surveillance? Then we can check out the storage unit and the phone image.”

  “You call. I’ll eat. I’m starved.” He opened the cooler sitting between them. Hannah had given them a cooler with sandwiches when they’d arrived at the compound on the chopper but they hadn’t taken the time to eat. He pulled out a sandwich. “Chicken salad with grapes. One of my favorites.”

  “Seriously?” She glanced at him and lifted her phone to her ear. “You’ve never mentioned that.”

&nbs
p; He opened the zipper bag and grinned.

  “Oh, I get it.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re joking.”

  “I thought it might be nice to lighten things up a bit.” His grin widened, and her heart tripped into gear.

  Seriously, you need to stop that. Now. Get control.

  She turned her attention to her phone and talked to Gage. Griff bit into the sandwich, and she saw him wolf down the first half before Gage even answered. By the time she ended her call, he’d polished off both halves.

  “Someone will be here soon.” She reached into the cooler for her sandwich and handed half to Griff.

  He tossed his empty bag into the cooler. “It’s yours.”

  “You’re still hungry, right?”

  He nodded, but reluctantly.

  “Then take it.” She moved her hand closer to him. “Half is enough for me.”

  He accepted it and smiled his thanks. “I forgot how well you know me.”

  She could easily recite all the little things she knew about him. Like he drank coffee, but only with sugar. His favorite meal was spaghetti and meatballs. He hung and folded his clothes immediately from the dryer before a wrinkle could set in. She could go on and on. Reciting thing after thing.

  But it was far safer for her to focus on the present. “So tell me about firefighting. The adrenaline is a given, but what else drew you to it?”

  He swallowed his bite. “Part of it’s the team atmosphere. I still miss Bravo team, and I thought this was the closest I could come to recreating it. I mean, how many jobs are there where you bunk in the same place with your coworkers and rush into a situation that no sane person would head into? That’s when you really get to know someone.”

  A vision of him running from a burning building, a child in his arms, came to mind. Why a child she had no idea, but she obviously wasn’t controlling her thoughts. “You’re amazing, you know that? Still willing to sacrifice your life for others.”

  He waved it off. “I’m just an average Joe.”

  “Far from it, Griff. You’re living a life of service to others. That takes a big heart and a willingness to sacrifice.”