Beneath the Surface

by Lynn H. Blackburn

  Leigh leaned against the side of the house. “You wanted to talk,” she said.

  Yikes. She was still mad. Not good.

  “Yes. But not out here.”

  She huffed but reentered the house and didn’t slam the door in his face as he followed her. Maybe that was a good sign. “I was wondering if we could go over how our days went from the time I left this morning until the time we saw each other again tonight, because I’m thinking I missed something along the way.”

  “I have no idea what you did all day,” she said. “I was here. All day. Like I’ve been for the past week.”

  He was definitely missing something, but what? “Okay. When I left here I went out to Mr. Cook’s because this morning he and Ole Blue found a body. Same M.O. as our John Doe from the lake.”

  “Oh no.” Leigh’s face filled with sorrow.

  “Yes,” he said, thankful the hostility had fallen from her tone.

  “Are you working that case too?”

  “No. Anissa will work it, but if it turns out we have the same killer, then we’ll work together.”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “Sure. She’s a good investigator. I spent most of the afternoon working on your case and then we had a homeowner from across the lake call. He’d been out of town for two weeks and he’d just gotten home. Adam and I went over there and looked at his security footage. I called as soon as we finished. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. Every time I got ready to call you, the phone would ring.”

  She swallowed hard. “Oh, that’s not a problem at all. You have work to do. I get that.”

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she spoke, looking away. She was lying.

  Well, maybe not lying now.

  But—

  “Were you upset I hadn’t called all day?” He took a risk and stepped closer to her. She didn’t move away.

  “No.” She laughed like that was the most ridiculous idea in the world. Which made him think he was on to something.

  “Leigh, you do know I interrogate people, right?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “I’m thinking maybe you were a little upset, and I’m sorry. I wanted to call you. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  “Really?” She barely spoke the word. In fact, based on the way she pulled back when she said it, he would be willing to bet she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  He stepped closer. “Really.”

  She nodded a couple of times. “I didn’t ignore your call, exactly,” she said. “If you must know, I was kind of praying. Sort of. It’s hard to explain. And when I heard the phone buzz, I didn’t even look at it. I didn’t know you’d tried to call until you told me. After you left, I saw you had texted and that I had missed a call. I had no idea you were worried.”

  This was probably not the time to go for tough and macho. “I was terrified,” he said.

  “I guess I overreacted.”

  “I guess I did too.”

  “Sorry.” They said the word at the same time. She didn’t seem to know where to look. Her eyes bounced from the floor to the ceiling. Everywhere but to him. Eventually they landed on the door.

  “Why were you and Gabe sitting outside my house?”

  “I didn’t want to leave,” he said. “Gabe came to say hi.”

  “At midnight?”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here all night,” she said.

  “I wasn’t planning on telling you.” Might as well be up front about it.

  Another long pause. Filled with some sort of weird vibe. They’d had their first real fight and lived to tell about it. But it wasn’t like they could kiss and make up when they hadn’t kissed in the first place, and he wasn’t sure he wanted their first kiss to be like this.

  “I’d better get back out there,” he said. “Gabe won’t leave until I fill him in.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Good night.”

  She followed him to the door. If he turned around now . . . no. Not now. He kept moving until he heard her close the door behind him. He leaned against the porch rail for a moment. No sense standing out here like a lovesick puppy. He jogged to the car.

  Gabe leaned out his window. “Well?”

  A boom. A scream. A flash.

  Ryan raced back to the house, Gabe on his heels. He didn’t bother to knock. He used the key Leigh had given him earlier in the week. He braced himself for what he would find when he went inside.

  Father, please, please let her be okay.

  11

  Leigh had no idea why her dining room table had spontaneously combusted. She picked herself up from where she’d landed when she dove behind the sofa and raced for the fire extinguisher as orange flames danced across the dining room chairs.

  She stood a few feet away. Pull. Aim. Squeeze. Sweep.

  One chair out.

  She had to stand much closer than she wanted to get the job done. Sweat poured from her face and burned her eyes as she attacked the flaming chair to her left.

  “Leigh!” Ryan appeared beside her. “Get out!”

  “No!” The fire department was only a mile away, but if they let it burn, the house would be destroyed before the firefighters could get here. There was only one chair not burning and it was near the curtains. If it went up in flames . . .

  She couldn’t lose this house. She’d lost so much.

  The second chair was out.

  Gabe joined the fray. Where had he found two more fire extinguishers? He gave one to Ryan and the three of them put out the last two chairs as the sirens from the fire trucks screamed closer. “I called it in. They said they’ll be here in two minutes.”

  The three of them stood at the ready, fire extinguishers pointed toward the smoldering heap that had been a one-hundred-year-old pine table.

  What had happened? She had no idea how long they stood there before two first responders raced into the room. One of them reached for the fire extinguisher she was still holding. “Ma’am, I’ll take that.”

  She had to force each finger to release. Why did it weigh so much more than it had a few moments ago? Or maybe it was her arms that weighed more than usual. The adrenaline rush had passed and a deep fatigue flooded in to take its place.

  Leigh stumbled against the kitchen counter as her home filled with firefighters.

  Ryan leaned against the counter beside her. “Thank you,” she said. The words did not come close to conveying the depth of emotion swirling in her heart and mind. The relief she’d experienced when she knew she wasn’t alone. The gratitude for Ryan and Gabe’s efforts to put out the fire. But if she tried to express any of that in words, she’d fall apart.

  Ryan stood there with her for several minutes without saying anything. “What happened when you came inside?” he asked.

  Thank goodness. A question she could answer. “The table blew up,” she said. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I closed the door and walked into the living room to grab a book and it . . . exploded.”

  Ryan put his arm around her. She leaned against him and made no protest as his other arm wrapped around her and he squeezed her close. She couldn’t stop her entire body from trembling. Was it a reaction to his touch or the stress of the last few moments? Or both?

  She had no complaints as he rubbed her back. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

  His lips pressed into her hair and she didn’t even care that ten men in full turnout gear were roaming through her home.

  A throat cleared. “Excuse me,” a deep voice rumbled from behind Ryan. He pressed her a fraction closer before releasing her. Well, most of her. He kept one arm around her as they turned to the voice.

  “Ms. Weston.” The man stuck out his large hand to offer a handshake. His grip was firm, his eyes kind. “We’d like to bring in a couple of dogs to check for any other flammable items.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Whatever you need to do.”

  He
nodded and waved at another firefighter at the door. That man nodded and disappeared.

  “The fire was contained to the dining room,” he said. “Although I cannot condone you staying inside a house with a fire, I must say that you did a great job of putting it out before we got here. There’s no evidence of any sort of structural damage, but you might want to stay somewhere else for the night. We need to do a thorough check of the house.”

  Leigh couldn’t believe this. A few hours ago, all she wanted to do was get out of this house. Now? All she wanted to do was stay.

  A fireman yelled from the dining room. “What was on this table, ma’am?”

  The table? She tried to picture it.

  “Was it the balloon bouquet I brought in this morning?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Balloons?” Three firemen spoke at once.

  “Explains a lot,” one of them said.

  “It’s too soon to say that,” the older man said.

  “Not too soon to say that something detonated on this table.” Another fireman held up a charred object in his hands.

  “There was a small decorative pot with a small green plant,” Ryan said. “The balloons were tied to the handle.”

  “Looks like your plant blew up and ignited the balloons. Gave you a nice little fireball, and I’m guessing this table was pretty flammable.”

  “The plant blew up?” Leigh asked.

  “Don’t quote me on it, but that’d be my guess. Where did you get it?”

  “Friends from the hospital sent it,” she said. Which group was it today? The post-op people? Yeah. That’s who it was. No one in post-op would do this.

  “Balloons don’t explode,” Ryan said. “Helium is an inert gas. It wouldn’t catch fire like that.”

  “We may never be able to prove it, but my guess is the balloons were filled with hydrogen. Not helium,” the fireman said.

  “That would do it,” Gabe said.

  Leigh racked her brain. Hydrogen was extremely flammable. No one in their right mind would fill a balloon with it. Unless . . .

  Someone had tried to kill her with a flower arrangement.

  The next hour was a blur. Firefighters. Forensics teams. Investigators. Someone made coffee. She sat on the end of her sofa and sipped the bitter brew. Who had made this stuff? It was awful.

  Someone came in with some dogs. Another hour passed. The firefighters declared her house clear. All the flower arrangements had been checked for explosives. They were all clear. Her bedroom. Her garage. Her parents’ room. Everything.

  But she wasn’t safe anywhere.

  The Lord is a strong tower. The righteous run into it and are saved.

  She hadn’t thought of that verse in a long time.

  She stood in the darkness of her dad’s old office, looking out over the lake. Her dad had made it a point to teach her as many verses as he could find about the safety and security that were hers as a child of God. All in an effort to help her handle the fear and anxiety that had chased her all the way from China. Her dad had always wanted her to live bravely. To tackle anything. To know she was secure, both in his love and in God’s.

  She’d lived in fear for too long.

  She was done. She wasn’t going to be chased away from her home. She wasn’t going to be forced to hide inside it. This person would either succeed in killing her or make a mistake so Ryan could catch them.

  She would live or she would die.

  She wouldn’t live afraid of dying.

  Not that she had a death wish. There were so many beautiful things to live for.

  “Leigh?” Ryan’s voice floated into the darkness. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure,” she said. “What do they need?”

  “Nothing. They’re packing up.”

  “Great.” She should go downstairs and tell them thank you.

  She could hear Ryan approaching her. His pace measured. He stopped behind her. “What do you need, Leigh? What can I do?”

  She didn’t know how to answer.

  His hands rested on her shoulders, and without making a conscious decision, her body melted against his. His arms came around her. His chin rested on her head.

  “I’ll catch him, Leigh.”

  She knew he would try.

  The phone in his pocket buzzed. He kept one arm around her as he answered it. “It’s Kirk. I called him earlier and had to leave a message.”

  She could hear her brother’s frantic voice. Ryan explained the events of the night.

  “She’s right here. She’s fine.”

  “Here,” he said, handing her the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “Kirk.”

  Ten minutes later she returned his phone. He’d kept his arms around her the entire time. Except for the moment when he’d started playing with her hair.

  “Leigh,” he said, his voice rough. “I need to tell you something.”

  She had a bad feeling she wasn’t going to like this.

  “Years ago, when you were still in middle school, Kirk made it very clear that you were off-limits.”

  “What?”

  “To his friends. He made it clear that trying to date you was unacceptable.”

  She was going to kill her brother.

  “I respected his wishes, but I’ve always wondered if you would have ever considered—”

  “Yo! Parker! Where are you, man?” She could hear Gabe walking up the stairs.

  “Unbelievable,” Ryan muttered. He released her and stepped away. “We’re in the office,” he said.

  Gabe approached the door with his usual bouncy step but paused when he hit the darkened room. “Um, sorry. I, um, hope I wasn’t interrupting anything. Wait. That’s not true. I hope I was interrupting, because if I wasn’t, then you’re an idiot.”

  Leigh could feel her cheeks burning. Ryan didn’t acknowledge Gabe’s insinuations. “What do you need, Gabe?”

  “I was coming to see if Leigh wanted me to find a hotel room for her or if she wanted to stay here.”

  “A hotel,” Ryan said.

  “I’ll stay here,” Leigh said at the same time.

  “What?” they both said.

  “Okay, then,” Gabe said, stepping backward into the hall. “I’ll take that as an undecided. When you work it out, let me know. I’ll be in the hall.”

  He made a show of leaning against the wall, still in sight of the door.

  “Leigh,” Ryan said.

  “No. I will not go.”

  “Please.”

  “Do you really think I’d be any safer in some random hotel?”

  “I think you’d be safer where no one knows where you are.”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  Ryan ran his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t cut it. What would it be like to run her hands . . .

  She didn’t realize she’d stepped closer to him until her hands rested on his chest. He stilled at her touch. “I’m not hiding.”

  He dropped his head until his forehead rested on hers. “I don’t know how to protect you.” It sounded like the words had been wrenched from the deepest parts of him.

  “I don’t think it’s up to you.”

  Not up to him?

  Who did she think was going to protect her from this madman?

  “You can’t keep me alive,” she said.

  “I’ll die trying.”

  “I know.” He heard the warmth in her voice. “And I appreciate that you are doing everything you can to save me, but there’s only One who can do that, Ryan. I’ve been wrestling with it, and I’m still not okay with everything going on in my life, but I do know this. He’s in control. Like it or not.”

  He wanted to argue with her. She was saying all the things his heart kept telling him. All the stuff he kept trying to ignore.

  “You can’t make yourself crazy over whether or not someone sneaks a bomb in a flower arrangement.”

  “I should have thought of that,” he said.

 
“Now you’ll know. The next time someone’s being stalked by a homicidal maniac, you’ll refuse to allow their friends to send them flowers.”

  Was she trying to be funny?

  “There’s nothing amusing about this.”

  “I’m not laughing. Or kidding.”

  “You could have been killed.”

  “So could you. You carried it in the door. What if it had blown up in your hands? Did you think of that?”

  He hadn’t.

  “What if it wasn’t meant for me at all?”

  He did not like the way her mind was working on this one. “That is an interesting theory, but it would have been hard to know I would be the one carrying it in. I’m not convinced you weren’t the target.”

  “We need to find out if the post-op group really sent flowers,” Leigh said. “For that matter, we probably need to see if anyone at the hospital has sent any this week.”

  How could she be so calm and logical?

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said.

  “I can ask arou—”

  “No,” he said. The last thing he needed was Leigh doing her own investigating.

  “Why not?” She pulled away from him and looked into his face. “What’s wrong with asking a few questions?”

  “Because you could tip off the person responsible. I’m not going to walk around the hospital flashing my badge. I’m going to call the flower shop. I’m going to ask a few discreet questions. I have a plan. Please.” He reached for her face. He shouldn’t. She was a victim. A witness. She was under police protection. His protection. He’d allowed far too much physical contact between them today. He shouldn’t be touching her.

  He closed his eyes and willed himself to drop his hand and step back.

  When he opened his eyes, hers were on him. They were filled with confusion. Maybe even hurt.

  “Leigh, when this is over . . .” He took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to take advantage of you. Of this situation. When it’s over, if you’ll let me, I’d love to hang around with you. All the time.”

  “Are you concerned that I’m emotionally fragile?” She stepped closer. He took another step back.

  “I wouldn’t put it that way, but I do think emotions run high in near-death situations, and I wouldn’t want—”