Excitement thrummed through her as she jumped into the shower. She drenched her hair then hopped out from under the spray. The tap turned off with a squeak.
Bam! Crack!
What in the world? She dried off and dressed quickly. She opened the bathroom door to red-hot fire.
Orange, red, and blue flames flickered across the floor. Her bed was engulfed in fire.
Dear Lord, help me.
Smoke burned her eyes. Her lungs. She coughed.
Landry put the damp towel against her face. She crouched down and slipped her feet into her hiking boots.
She quickly dodged the fire dancing up the curtains. She grabbed her cell and purse then flew out the open motel room door.
Sirens screamed as a fire truck whipped into the parking lot.
Margaret and Kohl rushed from their trailer in the back to her. Margaret put her arm around her. “Are you okay, Miss Parker?”
Landry coughed. “I’m okay.”
The fire truck’s ambulance pulled in, and two EMTs jumped out of the front.
“Here. She was inside the room,” Margaret hollered out.
The EMTs quickly started her on oxygen. From behind the mask, she assured them she was okay. No burns. Nothing had touched her. She was fine.
Except … she wasn’t. Someone wanted her out of the way.
Permanently.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Nickolai’s heart skipped a beat as he pulled into the motel parking lot. It skipped another as he skidded to a stop behind the caution tape and saw Landry sitting on the back of the ambulance wearing an oxygen mask. He jumped from the Jeep and ran across the concrete.
“Sir, you have to stay back behind the line,” a well-meaning first responder yelled.
Nickolai ignored him and kept running straight to Landry. If she was seriously injured …
She pulled off the oxygen mask and stepped into his arms. He could feel her slight quivering, and it pulled at something inside of him. Something that made him want to punch something. Punch it hard.
“I’m okay.” Her whisper did little to appease the protective monster roaring in his chest to get out.
He took a step back, still holding her, to take inventory of her and any possible injuries.
She wore very worn jeans, ankle-height hiking boots, and a button-down denim shirt over a white tee. Her face, void of makeup, also showed no signs of soot or ash. Her damp black hair, full of twists and curls, hung freely around her face, over her shoulders, and down her back. Her eyes were a little bloodshot from the smoke, but that looked like the worst of her injuries.
“I’m really fine.” She smiled, and his world went back right on its axis.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. I was in the bathroom getting dressed and heard a noise. By the time I’d gotten dressed, my room was in flames.”
“That would be because this was thrown in your room.” A fireman held a broken glass up. “This is the accelerant, more commonly known as a Molotov cocktail.”
“Well isn’t that interesting?” Officer Hogan stepped alongside the ambulance, Officer Paxton at his heels. “Seems like you two are becoming quite the people of interest around town.”
Nickolai fisted his hands. “I think we’ve become more of targets.”
The fireman jutted his chin out at Landry. “Paramedics say you’re okay. Do you want to go to the hospital to make sure you didn’t inhale more of the smoke than you think? That happens quite a bit.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine. I had a damp towel that I covered my nose and mouth with.”
“Smart thinking.” The fireman turned to Officer Hogan. “Fire was definitely started by the Molotov cocktail. We’ll send the glass to the lab and you’ll get a report if they find any evidence.”
“Appreciate that.” Officer Hogan motioned to his partner. “Miss Parker, we’ll need to take your statement.”
The urge to punch something hadn’t eased any. At all. And right now, Officer Paxton’s pearly whites as he smiled at Landry looked like a welcome target.
Instead of acting on the strange and unusual urges, Nickolai released Landry and moved Officer Hogan off to the side. “There’s more you need to know.”
“Really? What now?”
Quickly Nickolai told him about Marcie’s call. “It seems pretty obvious that someone doesn’t want us working this case.” He glanced over to where Kohl and Margaret spoke to one of the firemen. Vanessa hung back behind them. “She’s a prime suspect.”
Hogan glanced over to the group. “Margaret? That woman wouldn’t know how to hurt a fly with a fly swatter.”
“No, Vanessa. She confronted Landry and spat at her.”
“Spat at her?”
Nickolai nodded and filled Hogan in on the exchange. “It’s clear she has ill intent toward Landry.”
“But enough to start a fire at her place of employment? From what I gathered, she and Margaret are fairly close and friendly. This little fire here will cost several thousand dollars to repair. I know insurance will cover it, but there’s always a deductible.”
Nickolai looked around the dive of the motel. “Maybe they should do a full renovation. They don’t even have electronic key cards. It’s well into the twenty-first century … who still has regular keys?”
“Maybe so, but Kohl and Margaret are good people, and they don’t deserve all this.” Hogan’s tone had hardened a bit.
Nickolai narrowed his eyes. “And Landry doesn’t deserve to be threatened and almost burned alive.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that she did. Perhaps it’s time you people thought about heading back to New Orleans. For your safety, of course.”
Maybe it was his mood, maybe it was the circumstances, maybe it was just that his emotions felt raw, whatever it was, Nickolai had had enough. “We won’t be bullied, Officer Hogan. And you can put that in your report about us people.” He turned and marched back to Landry.
“They’re just doing their final evaluation for their paperwork, then I’ll be done.” Landry smiled as an EMT took her blood pressure.
He nodded. “I’ll get my stuff and be waiting at the Jeep.” He turned and went to Kohl and Margaret. “I’m sure you can understand that we no longer feel safe here. I’m going to go clear out my belongings and we’ll be checking out.”
“There is the matter of the fee …” Kohl stopped talking as he looked into Nickolai’s face.
“I’m sure Mr. Hauge will clear the bill when he returns.” Nickolai turned on his heel and headed to his room. He shoved his clothes and toiletries into his suitcase.
Where were Stan and Phillip? Neither had been at the motel last night, nor this morning, and Nickolai had checked at seven.
Maybe he and Landry had been wrong. Maybe the murderer and the bully wasn’t either of them … maybe they were victims as well. Maybe they were in trouble right now. Maybe he should mention that to Hogan….
No, that didn’t make sense. Phillip was still the prime suspect, but Nickolai hadn’t ruled Stan out of being involved. Landry might believe his song and dance about him and Winifred, but she had a soft heart under that tough exterior.
Nickolai grabbed his charger and the envelope with the case information and strode out of the room. He tossed everything into the back of the Jeep then approached Landry’s smoldering room.
A final fireman came out.
“Hey, is there anything worth saving in there? Of the renter, I mean.”
The fireman nodded. “The stuff in the bathroom and the suitcase right next to it is all okay.” He gave a sheepish smile. “It’s all wet, but it’ll wash.”
“Thanks.” Nickolai went into the room. The stench of melted carpet and burned mattress emitted such pungency that his eyes watered. He grabbed her toiletries from the bath and shoved them into her suitcase. He carried it to the Jeep.
Landry sat in the front seat and smiled at him. “Thanks for leaving it unlocked.”
“Um, I don
’t think I locked it when I got here.” He glanced at the keys hanging in the ignition. “I don’t even remember turning off the engine.” He threw her stuff in the back then slipped behind the steering wheel. He took her hand in his. “Are you really okay?”
“I am. Even the EMT said my lungs sounded clear. I used the wet towel over my nose and mouth.”
“Smart lady.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. The odor of smoke nearly gagged him. He dropped her hand.
“What?”
“No offense, sweetheart, but you stink. You smell like an ashtray.”
She laughed. “Funny how that happens since someone tried to snuff me out.”
Nickolai didn’t laugh. “That’s not funny. This is serious. You know, no one would fault you if you wanted to go home.”
She stopped laughing. “Do you want to go home?”
“I want you to be safe.” He’d been doing a lousy job of that. He’d just promised Marcie he’d keep Landry safe, and she’d nearly been burned alive.
“That’s not an answer.” Landry shook her head, her beautiful hair settling over her shoulders. “I won’t be scared off from doing what I need to do. I started this job and I intend to finish it if I can.”
“All right. First things first, we’re going to go find another hotel, and we aren’t going to tell Stan and Phillip which one. We’ll just invoice Mrs. Winslet directly after we get back. Okay?”
She nodded, a smile back on her beautiful face. “Deal.”
He drove them down the road to the Best Western. “You stay here. I’ll go check us in. I’m going to put both rooms in my name so if someone’s looking for you, they’ll have a little more trouble deciding which room is yours.” He got out of the Jeep before she could argue.
The office of the hotel had fans blowing. The woman behind the counter smiled. “May I help you?”
“I need two rooms, please. Connecting if you can, next door to each other if you can’t.”
“Just a moment.” She clicked on her computer. “I have connecting. For how many nights?”
Nickolai hesitated. Without the Winslet open-ended account, he would have to pay up front for the rooms. He handed over his credit card. “Two nights.” That would give them today to rest up and regroup, and tomorrow to search the Superstitions. If they couldn’t find the man in that time, even he’d feel like calling it quits.
She processed his card, made notes in her computer, then handed him his credit card and two envelopes with electronic keys inside.
“Thank you.” He headed back to the Jeep and actually breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Landry still sitting in the front seat.
Not that he figured she’d bolt on him or anything, but …
He didn’t even know what he was thinking anymore. Didn’t know what he was feeling. Everything about Landry spoke to him on a primal level, and he’d started feeling all crazy and thinking even crazier.
What all did that mean?
“Did you get the rooms?” she asked as he climbed back into the Jeep.
“I did.” He passed her one of the envelopes. “We have connecting rooms.” He put the Jeep in gear and drove around the building to where their rooms were located.
He caught a glimpse of Landry’s face as she fingered the envelope. It hit him—they had connecting rooms. The look on her face said it all. She thought he expected … well, something he wouldn’t expect of a lady like Landry.
Nickolai parked the Jeep and took her hand again. “I got us connecting rooms for safety. That’s the only reason.”
Her face reddened. “Well, when you put it like that.” She fanned her face and widened her eyes. “You do know how to flatter a lady.” Clearly she tried to use humor to ease the awkwardness, but it just made her more attractive. Her giggle was what did him in.
He leaned over and, with the tip of his finger under her chin, turned her to face him.
She sobered immediately. Her eyes big, yet half-lidded.
Caressing her chin line with his thumb, Nickolai leaned in and put his lips on hers. Pressing softly. Moving gently. Deepening slowly.
He felt her breath catch, and he deepened the kiss a bit more.
His heart pounded against his ribs. The blood rushed to his head, echoing in his ears. Every muscle in his body seized.
Nickolai ended the kiss. Wow!
She looked at him from under her eyelashes.
“Make no mistake, Landry Parker, if you were a different type of lady and I a different type of man, two rooms wouldn’t have been necessary.”
She blinked twice and stiffened.
He chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Now, let’s get settled in. You need a shower something awful because you stink.”
Her expression made him belly laugh as he got out of the Jeep. She joined him at the back before he could open her door for her.
“Oh, it’s soaking wet.” She lifted her suitcase.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I got everything of yours, though.” He grabbed his own stuff as well as the supplies he’d bought then locked the Jeep.
They’d barely made it to their doors when his phone rang.
“Here.” She opened her door and dumped her duffel. He dropped all his stuff on her chair and dug his phone from his pocket. She shut the door.
“Hey, Chris. I’m putting you on speaker.” He set the phone on the edge of the table.
“I’m assuming because Landry’s there?”
“I am.” She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her hiking boots off.
“Good. I went by your place. Your neighbor is quite the lady.” Chris chuckled.
Landry laughed as well. “Oh, she’s something, that’s for sure. She was okay?”
“Yep. She’s fine, your condo is fine, but your cat is possessed.”
“What?” Landry smiled at the phone. “Whiskers is a sweetheart.”
“You’re crazy. That cat howled and meowed the whole time I was there. When I cracked the door to make sure nothing was in that room, a white fluff ball hissed and charged me. I had to shut the door so it wouldn’t attack.”
“She was a stray that I found when she was only weeks old. She’s a sweetheart.” Landry laughed and pulled out her phone. She quickly showed Nickolai a photo of a little white cat that might have weighed five pounds soaking wet.
Nickolai chuckled. “I’m looking at a picture of the cat now. That backed you up.”
“Bro, it has claws. Long ones. I saw them.”
Landry laughed again then sobered. “Thanks for going by and checking on my place and Mrs. McMillian. I really appreciate it.”
“Now let’s talk about your friend Marcie.”
“What?” Landry sat up straight.
“Nothing. She’s a funny little lady. I like her. She’s fine. I put an app on her cell so it’ll record if anyone calls her there.”
“Thanks, Chris.” Nickolai couldn’t help but be extremely grateful that he was in a position to help Landry. “We needed the good news.”
“Why’s that?”
Nickolai, with a couple of interjections from Landry, told about the fire. “So, we’re at the Best Western now, both rooms in my name.”
“Look, I shouldn’t tell you this, but there’s been progress in the case.”
“What?” Nickolai looked at Landry, who met his gaze.
“Phillip Fontenot is wanted for questioning in the Winslet murder. We haven’t been able to reach him to have him come in and answer a few questions.”
“Us, either. No sign of him or Stan Hauge since yesterday.”
“We’ve been in touch with Hauge,” Chris said. “He’s responded to our messages, but not Fontenot.”
“Is Fontenot a suspect?” Nickolai asked.
“Not at the moment, but the captain has found a few inconsistencies with his original statement. Like that he was late getting to the office for lunch, yet in his initial statement, he said he was sure he’d arrived early. This means for the actual time of the murder,
we can’t verify he was at Winslet Industries.”
“That it?”
“Yeah. For now. Watch your backs. Both of you.”
“We will. Thanks.” Nickolai disconnected the call.
“I wonder where Phillip and Stan are?” Landry asked.
“I don’t know.” He pocketed his cell and lifted his gear. “I’m going to get settled in and let you take a shower.”
She grinned. “Because I stink.”
He grinned back. “You do. Anyway, after you’re ready, just knock on the connecting door and we’ll decide what to do.”
“I thought we’d already decided we’d go out to the Superstition Mountains and see if we can find the man and the map.”
“I thought it might be better for us to take it easy this afternoon. Have an easy late lunch/early supper, then we could hit the ground to the mountains in the morning.”
“Sounds good to me.” She smiled.
“Okay. Just knock when ready.” He opened the door but leaned back and kissed her forehead and then opened his door and stepped inside.
Very soon, they were going to have to have a talk about this … thing between them. He could get used to kissing her hello and good-bye.
And many, many times in between.
He tossed his duffel onto one of the beds, put his toiletry bag by the sink. His cell rang. He checked the caller ID before answering and felt a surge of gratefulness that he was alone.
“Hey, EmmaGrace.”
“Hey, darlin’. I’m just gonna say flat out, you owe me big-time. Dinner has been upgraded to chateaubriand at Antoine’s.”
Antoine’s Restaurant back home served the traditional center-cut tenderloin for two for about 110 bucks a pop, but it was well worth the splurge. It literally melted in your mouth.
And if EmmaGrace named her fee as Antoine’s chateaubriand, she’d had to pay some big favors to come through on his request.
He smiled. “You got it, my sweet.”
“Ah, I love it when you tease me. Well, I got the medical records of Phillip Fontenot.”
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