Olivia hung back, her protective instincts on full alert, and watched the interplay between her undersized half-sister and the towering firefighter. Because of Katy’s handicap and because she’d taken over raising the little girl when their mother died years ago, Olivia tended to be wary of how people reacted to Katy. Her sister picked up on strangers’ awkwardness around her because of her leg braces and took it personally.
But Katy babbled while she showed Reyn a picture she’d just finished coloring for him. “That’s you. My dad’s fire truck is red, but I had to make your fire truck orange ’cause I can’t find my red marker.”
Reyn sat on the edge of the sofa and studied the picture Katy handed him. “No problem. I think orange is a good color for a fire truck. Some fire engines are even bright yellow. Know why?”
Olivia stepped in from the entry hall, remembering Reyn’s ready smile for Katy at church yesterday. His ease around her sister did her heart good. Ever since she’d told Katy that Reyn would be coming for supper, the five-year-old had been giddy with excitement. She would have been crushed if Reyn hadn’t responded to her with genuine warmth.
Katy shrugged in answer to Reyn’s question. “Because it’s the color of fire?”
He grinned broadly and tugged her ponytail. “Good guess, but no. Bright yellow trucks are easier to see, so people can get out of the firemen’s way when they’re going to a fire.”
Katy’s face lit up. “I have yellow. I’ll make a yellow truck for you!”
“After dinner, Katy,” Olivia said from the door. “Go wash your hands so you can set the table.”
Katy groaned but obeyed. Once her sister had trooped down the hall, Olivia turned back to Reyn with a smile. “Hey.”
“Hi. Something smells good.”
“Don’t be too impressed. I just opened a jar.” She crossed the room to sit beside him. “Did you find anything in your mom’s papers that would give someone a motive?”
He shook his head and reached in the back pocket of his jeans. “But I found this and thought it was interesting.”
She took the folded sheet from him and opened it. “Your mother’s death certificate,” she said when she read the heading on the photocopied page.
“Cause of death is listed as smoke inhalation. We already knew that. But look who signed it.”
She scanned down the sheet to the signature at the bottom. “Lou? He never told me he’d served as Justice of the Peace!”
“That’s an elected position here, right?” Reyn took the sheet back from her and refolded it.
“Yeah. So?”
“So that’d explain why a pharmacist is the Justice of the Peace.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Hmm. Lou was Justice of the Peace once. I had no idea.”
“Goes to show …”
“What?”
“You might not know your boss as well as you think.”
The back door slammed, and Hank’s voice boomed through the house. “I’m home. Hey, something’s burning in here.”
“The sauce!” Olivia jumped up and ran for the kitchen.
“Daddy!” Katy squealed as she clomped into the kitchen to throw herself into Hank’s waiting arms.
“Hey, baby girl.” Hank squeezed Katy and kissed the top of her head. “Were you a good girl for Miss Gloria today?”
“Uh-huh. Gloria and me played with dolls and rode bikes.”
“Gloria and I,” Olivia corrected. “And you get to play with Gloria even longer tomorrow.”
Hank arched an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“I’ve got somewhere to go. Gloria says she doesn’t mind and the extra money comes in handy.”
Hank didn’t appear satisfied with her answer, but before he could quiz her any further about her plans, Katy grabbed his attention.
“Daddy, Daddy, Reyn’s eatin’ with us.” Katy tugged on Hank’s shirt, her face glowing with excitement.
Hank frowned. “Reyn?”
“Run and get him, pipsqueak. I think everything’s ready.” Olivia faced Hank once Katy lumbered out. “I invited him. We want to talk with you about the fire that killed his mom.”
Sighing, Hank pulled out a chair at the table and sat. “You’d be wasting your breath, Jelly Bean. I don’t remember much about it. That was a long time ago.”
Jelly Bean. Olivia cherished his use of the pet name he’d given her years ago, the affection in his tone when he spoke it.
“…and my Barbie’s name is Crystal ’cause you can put sparkly stuff in her hair.” Katy led Reyn into the kitchen by the hand, chattering away. “You can sit by me, Reyn.”
“I’d be honored.” He pulled out the chair by Katy then reached across the table to shake Hank’s hand. “Evening, sir.”
“Sweet tea all right with you, Reyn?” Olivia set the pot of sauce on the table then started taking glasses from the shelf.
“Sure.”
“Just water for me, Liv.” Hank eyed Reyn as their guest took his seat. “So you’re a dragonslayer in Atlanta, huh?”
Katy’s eyes rounded. “They have dragons in Atlanta?”
With a chuckle, Hank served himself some spaghetti noodles. “No, baby girl. That’s just something we firefighters call ourselves.”
“Fires are the dragons we slay,” Reyn told Katy and helped himself to the salad. “Starting my tenth year this fall.”
Olivia set Reyn’s glass by his plate and took the seat across from him. Hank blessed the meal, and Katy piped up again as soon as he finished praying.
“I’m going to be a vet when I grow up.”
Reyn turned to her sister. “Are you? Well, all right! I bet you’ll be a good one, too.”
Katy giggled. “I already help ’Livia with her dogs.”
Hank grunted. “You may have noticed the assortment of mutts in the yard when you arrived. Most people collect stamps or coins.” He cast Olivia a teasing grin. “Olivia collects dogs.”
“I only keep the ones I can’t find homes for,” she amended.
Katy tugged on Reyn’s sleeve. “And we saved a baby bird once that had fallen from his nest.”
“Sounds like you’re getting lots of practice for being a vet,” Reyn said with a smile. A subtle quirk of Hank’s eyebrow told Olivia he noticed the rapport Reyn had with Katy.
The conversation turned to further discussion of Katy’s day with Gloria, Reyn’s visit that afternoon with Lila, and the local farmers’ desperate situation due to the current drought.
Anxious to get to the questions she had for Hank, Olivia had no appetite. Impatience started nervous flutters in her stomach, and memories of the threatening note on her windshield, tied her gut in knots. But they had to wait for Katy to finish eating and leave the room before she and Reyn could talk to Hank.
“I’m ready for dessert,” Katy announced, slurping in her last noodle.
Hank shook his head. “Not until everyone’s finished.”
Olivia sighed quietly, watching Hank help himself to seconds, then sat on her hands to keep from fidgeting.
Reyn leaned toward Katy and whispered in her ear, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Why don’t you ask if you can work on that yellow fire truck for me until time for dessert?”
Katy raised bright, eager eyes to her sister. “Can I?”
Olivia smiled her relief. “Sure.”
“I don’t think—” Hank started, but Katy had already bolted from the kitchen with an awkward gait. Hank frowned at Olivia. “You know I don’t like her leaving the table till everyone’s finished. You’re teaching her bad manners.”
“I don’t want her hearing what we have to discuss.” Olivia pushed her plate out of the way and leveled a steady look on her stepfather. “I received a death threat today.”
Hank’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “Come again?”
“You heard me. Someone either has a sick sense of humor, or they don’t want us looking into the death
of Reyn’s mother.”
Hank put his fork down. “All the more reason to drop this asinine goose chase. I want you to forget this whole business, understand me? It’s ancient history.”
Olivia shook her head. “I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”
With a huff, Hank glared at her, the worry in his eyes softening his scowl. “Even with someone threatening you? What if this person is serious and tries to kill you?”
Hank’s concern was no less than she’d have expected. Though touched by his worry, she couldn’t give up so easily. “I’ll be careful. But I won’t let this person intimidate me.”
Hank turned a dark glower on Reyn. “Do you see what you started? Why would you drag her into something like this? What do you think you’re going to prove with all this anyway?”
“He didn’t start this. I did.” Her stepfather turned back to her when she spoke. “I found some of my dad’s old files in the attic when I was sorting through things for the church bazaar last week. He’d apparently begun an unofficial investigation into some inconsistencies he’d found regarding Claire Erikson’s death. I brought them to Lila’s attention and then to Reyn’s when he arrived in town yesterday.”
“That case has been closed for years. You don’t need to go stirring up trouble.” Hank threw his napkin down on his plate.
“Why has our interest in the fire and my mother’s death made so many people nervous?” Reyn asked in an even tone.
“I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader,” Hank said, his own voice reflecting his frustration and irritation.
“Fair enough. Forget everyone else.” Reyn leaned forward, narrowing his gaze on Hank. “What has you so nervous?”
Reyn’s shift to a more direct and combative mode startled Olivia. Hank wasn’t the enemy. She sent Reyn a quelling look, but his attention was fixed on her stepfather.
Hank met Reyn’s challenge with a steady gaze. “Maybe I’m just looking out for my family. You heard Olivia. Someone left her a note with a death threat. Wouldn’t you call that a reason to be worried? I don’t want her getting hurt.”
“Neither do I.” Reyn held the older man’s gaze.
She cleared her throat. “Hello? Gentlemen? I’m still here. And I’m a big girl. I can look out for my own safety.” She divided a grin between them, hoping to diffuse the tension. “But thanks for your concern.”
Katy picked that moment to clomp back into the room and thrust her new drawing at Reyn. “Look, Reyn. I even put a siren light on top.”
Hank scooted back from the table and took his plate to the sink, his movements jerky, tense.
“I made a pie for dessert, Hank,” she called to him as he marched out of the kitchen.
“Maybe later.”
“I want pie.” Katy plopped down in her chair, and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
Olivia smiled at her sister, working to hide her disappointment that they hadn’t learned any more from Hank. But then what had she really expected? Why should she think Hank knew more than he’d already said?
Glancing at Reyn, she studied the thoughtful look he wore. “Peach pie, Reyn?”
He lifted his gaze. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
When Olivia would have turned away to get the pie, she balked. Reyn’s eyes held hers in a serious, unreadable stare. The hard edge to his gaze negated the thrill she usually received from having his gray eyes probe hers so intimately. She furrowed her brow and mouthed, “What?”
His gaze flicked to Katy then back. “Later.”
Olivia’s curiosity kicked into high gear. What had Reyn so upset? Once again she found herself waiting for Katy to finish eating so she could talk to Reyn alone.
Reyn waited outside in the purple cloak of dusk for a chance to speak to Olivia alone. He watched the light in a bedroom window go out and imagined Olivia kissing her sister goodnight. The chirp of tree frogs and sweet fragrance of gardenia filled the evening air. The inviting glow of the porch light and quiet comfort of the country home stirred a longing in him he dared not name. His chest squeezed with bittersweet nostalgia as an unbidden memory of his mother tucking him in for the night spun through his mind.
He’d forfeited his right to such domestic bliss when he’d let his mother die. He’d lost his family and his home and had only himself to blame. He quickly shoved the thought and the accompanying sense of loss down, pushing it back into the tiny box where he’d kept his pain for years. It was the only way to manage the grief or it would consume him.
But since he’d returned to Clairmont, the memories popped up more easily, demanding his attention. The sooner he finished with his business here and got back to Atlanta, the better.
He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned back against an ancient oak tree with a weary sigh. The rough bark prickled his skin through his shirt, abrading him the way his conscience chafed his mind.
When he heard the screened door squeak, he glanced up. Olivia stepped out on the porch and immediately several scruffy dogs that had been sleeping in the yard scampered to her feet. She stopped long enough to scratch each one behind the ear and speak to the mutt in a soft voice. Then, her feet bare, she picked her way across the yard.
Backlit by the porch light, her expression was difficult to read, but he savored the sight of her lithe form moving through the shadows toward him. He battled the urge to pull her body against his. Or tried to, at least.
Olivia had a potent effect on him. His nerve endings zinged with an awareness of her every movement. He heard the seductive sough of her breath as she deeply inhaled the night air, and he filled his own lungs with the scent of floral perfume and peach pie that clung to her. She was a fascinating blend of sensuality and domesticity. She was everything he could never have, couldn’t let himself want.
“I think I’ve read The Cat in the Hat ten thousand times. I’ve memorized it, because she wants the same book every night.” Olivia stood close enough now for him to see the flash of her white teeth. “Thanks for waiting.”
“No problem.”
She stepped over to the tire swing tied to a low branch of the massive oak. The rope creaked as she climbed on, draping her shapely legs over the top of the tire and resting her cheek against the rope. “You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah.” The doubts and suspicions that had plagued him at dinner resurfaced and kicked up his pulse. “I want you to watch yourself around Hank.”
Her only response was a hiccup-like laugh.
“I mean it.” He pushed away from the tree trunk and caught the rope of the swing. The edge of the tire bumped his hip. “Promise me, Olivia.”
“First my boss, the kindest, gentlest man on the planet, is a suspect, then my own family. I think you can scratch Hank off your list. What reason would he have for hurting your mother…or threatening me?” She slapped at a mosquito that buzzed at her ear.
“You didn’t tell him the death threat was in a note, but he said as much when he was warning us away. Lucky guess, or did he already know about the note?”
She raised her cheek from the rope and wrinkled her brow. “Are you sure I didn’t say—”
“I’m sure.” He stepped between her knees to meet her querying look straight on. “And after his slip I started thinking about some other things. The note was written in red, and Katy said her red marker was missing.”
A nervous smile tugged at her lips, and she shook her head. “A stupid coincidence. You can’t think Hank wrote that note. Hank’s my family. He’d never hurt me.”
“I hope you’re right. I guess we’ll find out when the sheriff finishes checking the note for fingerprints.”
Olivia stared at him for a moment then swung her legs off the tire. Placing a hand on either side of her slim waist, he helped her down. She wavered unsteadily and leaned against him until she’d found her balance. Even the brief contact of her soft body against his played with his control.
When she turned to face him, she stood close enough for him to feel the caress of
her breath when she sighed. Close enough to kiss her if he wanted. And, damn, but he wanted.
“As much as I appreciate your concern, I really feel our efforts would be better spent focusing on the other men.” She flattened a hand against his chest, and her warm touch burned through him. “Assuming anyone in the fire department is truly involved…which I’m having a hard time believing.”
He caught her shoulders and drilled his gaze into hers. “I understand that it’s hard to believe something like this of the people you’ve grown up with. But for God’s sake, don’t assume anything. Don’t let your guard down, or you could get killed.”
He felt the shudder that raced through her and regretted having to use scare tactics to get through to her. But if a little caution on her part kept her alive, it would be worth it. He’d do whatever it took to prevent another person he cared about from needlessly dying.
Another person he cared about. He took a sharp breath as that thought echoed in his head. Yeah, he cared about her, he admitted, then released the air in his lungs slowly. Because of the way she’d cared for Gram. Because of her sexy smile and unfailing optimism. Because he cared about anyone he thought could be in danger. It was his job to care and to protect. That was all.
Just the same, he released her and took a step back. Before he did something foolish like kiss her or wrap her in his arms the way he had that morning.
Distance. He needed to keep his distance.
“So who is next?” she asked. “Should I talk to Lou about all this tomorrow?”
“Not alone, you don’t. It’s bad enough you have to be alone with him while you work, but I want to be there when we ask him about the fire again.”
“If you’re going to see Lila in the morning, we could ride into town together. Then you could ask Lou whatever you wanted.”
“Good idea. But we’ll take my truck.”
“Okay. Ready to tackle the attic?” She tipped her head toward the front door and started back to the porch.
He nodded and followed her silently inside and up the narrow ladder to the attic. A bare light bulb at the center of the low ceiling provided the only illumination, and Reyn had to stoop over to avoid hitting his head on the exposed support beams. Trapped heat from the summer day made the tight space stuffy, and the smell of mildew and mothballs pervaded the room.
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