by Kathy Ivan
He closed his eyes and drew in a long, slow breath, holding it for a minute before exhaling. Calm, he needed to be calm. He couldn’t afford to tip his hand. Not when things were finally falling into place. Patience was the key.
His eyes flew open at the sound of his cell door opening, and his roommate stepped through, his lips twisted in a sardonic smirk. The cold, black deadness of his eyes chilled Evan to the depths of his soul, but he couldn’t afford to be squeamish, not with his whole future in the other man’s tattoo-covered hands.
Neither spoke until the door was secured and the guard was out of earshot. “Well, how’d it go?”
“Looking’ good, dude. My cousin and his old lady got everything lined up. Long as we meet up with ’em, they’ll make sure we get across the border into Mexico. They know a place to cross without getting caught.” The tall African-American man strode past Evan, flung himself down on his bunk, and folded his hands beneath his shaved head. Though he did his best to hide it, the terror inside Evan stank like putrid flop sweat. Compared to Axel, who worked out every day and had muscles a steroid abuser would worship, he felt like a ninety-eight-pound weakling.
“When?”
“Chill, man. It’ll happen when it happens. Soon, though. Things are coming together; it won’t be long now.”
Evan’s frustrated growl evidenced his irritation. He hated being at the mercy of others. Look what happened the last time he’d listened to somebody else. Trevor had screwed up. Now he had to trust another, and his gut roiled at the thought. Too many things could go wrong, as he’d learned the hard way. But he had to wait on Axel, because this was his plan and his people.
Getting out from behind these bars, these walls, had become his one priority, his sole focus. Only then could he put in motion his real plan. Axel and his buddies had made it clear: they were heading for the border and crossing into Mexico the minute they escaped from here. Evan had other ideas, and he planned on splintering off from Axel and his crew the first chance he got. While the locals and the feds were chasing after the escapees, Evan planned on being hundreds of miles away, deep in the heart of Texas.
Specifically, Shiloh Springs, Texas. Where his ex-wife and child currently resided, along with his traitorous sister-in-law.
Revenge against Tessa would be sweet, unfortunately, it wouldn’t be swift. She was too well-guarded by her boyfriend, the sheriff. No, his plans focused around his ex.
He knew she’d obtained a divorce. His lawyer brought him the papers, and advised him to sign them. Blathered some nonsense about it looking good on his record that he was cooperating in the face of all his charges. He’d signed them. Let them think he was a model prisoner, right up until he slipped through their fingers like a puff of smoke.
“You listening to me, man?” Axel shifted on the narrow cot, leaning against the painted cinderblock wall, his face obscured by shadows from the upper bunk. The deep baritone of his voice matched his muscular frame, the sound menacing and disturbing. Evan felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face. Axel had been behind bars on and off for the better part of his adult life, for a string of bad choices and worst acts. Nobody with half a brain would ever accuse Axel of being a nice guy. They didn’t cross him, either. Somehow, and he still wasn’t quite sure why, Axel had befriended him almost from the day he’d walked through the cell door into their shared space. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and frankly terrified about spending what could be a good chunk of the rest of his life in Huntsville, Evan latched onto Axel’s offer of friendship and protection, never realizing the big black man held the answer to his prayers—getting out of this hellhole.
“I hear you. I’m just sick of these four walls.”
Axel shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“Never.”
“Keep things on the down low, few more days, man. Then it’ll be tequila and senoritas, and beaches for miles. No bars on the doors and windows, and especially no cops.” Axel let out a contented-sounding sigh. “I ain’t never coming back to Texas, man. I’m gonna live the high life down south of the border, you feel me? Little bit of money down there buys a lot of happiness.”
“Can’t be soon enough for me,” Evan muttered, pacing across the narrow space to stare out the small barred window overlooking the yard, staring at the swath of concrete and dirt. He focused his mind on his main objective, repeating it over and over, like a personal mantra.
I’ll have my freedom and Beth will pay.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning, after having helped Beth move over to Tessa’s rental, Brody drove over to the Summers place. He parked several feet from the charred remains of the old Summers’ barn, the acrid smell of burned wood still perfuming the air.
Climbing out, he grabbed the kit he kept in the bed of his truck. The one he used when he investigated scenes he felt were suspicious—like this one. This entire scenario screamed setup to him, from the deserted location to the visible trails of superheated scorch marks.
He quickly donned a set of gloves. The less contamination of the scene, the better. Ducking beneath the bright yellow caution tape his crew had used to cordon off the area, he straightened, scanning the ground for evidence. He knew how important it was to take his time, look for any clues. Sometimes the most insignificant things made the difference in determining a fire’s triggering incident. Taking each step slow and methodical, he watched where he walked, did a circuit around the remnants of the barn, making a visual note of all his surroundings.
After the fire, he’d gone through the site, documenting the fire’s aftereffects with photos and video. Collected and bagged evidence. It had been pitch-black, other than the lights from the firetrucks and headlights from his personal truck, but he’d conducted an initial investigation, knowing every aspect of the scene needed to be carefully and thoroughly documented. But something didn’t feel right, so he’d come back this morning to take another look. Possibly gather any evidence that might have been missed or overlooked, to send to the forensic laboratory in Austin.
Unfortunately, the Summers’ barn didn’t have a whole lot left to identify. The roof had caved in from a combination of the flames and the high velocity of the water used to put out the fire. A couple of structural beams still remained, blackened and scarred from the heat. Large chunks of the walls were gone, debris scattered in darkened husks on the ground inside where the building once stood.
Brody shook his head. He remembered playing in this barn growing up, spending hours with Greg Summers talking about horses, what they wanted to do when they grew up, and girls. Shoot, he’d probably spent as much time with Greg and his family as he had at his house. Douglas and Ms. Patti encouraged Brody to make friends, knowing he needed to be with others outside his brothers at the Big House. It had taken him a while to fit in with the other boys—his brothers—and Greg had been his best friend in Shiloh Springs. Too bad they’d grown apart once Greg moved to San Antonio. He hadn’t loved small-town life, not the way Brody did. Greg had hightailed it out of town the first opportunity he got. He’d come around occasionally to visit his folks, but now even those visits had pretty much dried up since his parents moved to South Florida.
A glint of something at his feet caught his eye. He stooped and ran a gloved finger across the piece of glass. Lifting it from the dirt, Brody examined it, noting a small piece of paper, some kind of label maybe, still adhered to the fragment. Pulling a plastic bag from his pocket, he slid the shard inside, sealed and labeled it as evidence. Good thing he’d grabbed a couple of baggies at the same time he’d picked up the gloves. It was hard to tell how long the glass had been there, but sitting on top of the packed earth, it was safe to assume it hadn’t been there all that long. If he was lucky, they might be able to get some prints off it. He couldn’t help wondering if it had been part of a container used to start the blaze.
He walked the interior of what was left of the charred husk, picking up a few more fragments of bottle and one sin
ged piece of fabric, which smelled suspiciously like gasoline. Might be kerosene, it was hard to tell. Shaking his head, he shoved it into a separate evidence bag, all too sure now his suspicions were correct.
This fire had been no accident. He was dealing with an arsonist. Shiloh Springs had their very own firebug, and he was escalating. Brody decided to do one more sweep of the barn, and then he’d head into town. The evidence he’d collected needed to be sent for gas chromatography and mass spectrometry to help determine what chemical or chemicals were used, though he felt certain they’d find gasoline as the culprit. If they were lucky, they might be able to lift some DNA from the pieces of glass.
Brody straightened and glanced toward the dirt road when he heard a car pull up, and watched Rafe climb out of his pickup and walk toward the yellow caution tape.
“I suspected I’d find you here. Find anything?” Rafe stayed on the other side of the caution tape barrier, which Brody appreciated. The less contamination of the scene the better. It had taken hours to douse the blaze, and by the time they’d contained it, everyone was exhausted. He’d walked the perimeter, looking and studying it for clues. Evidence. Any items which might help him determine what had ignited the barn. Or in this case who—because he was certain this hadn’t occurred naturally. It had been helped along by somebody, and that pissed him off.
Brody held up the dozen evidence bags with the items he’d collected. “Found enough to convince me we have a serious problem.”
Rafe pushed his cowboy hat back and glared at the baggies, a scowl marring his expression. “You’re sure it’s arson?”
“As sure as I can be, until I can deliver these for testing. But from the burn pattern, traces of accelerant use, and the findings of what looks like glass and fabric, I’m saying this fire was deliberately set.”
“This does not make me happy, bro.”
The accompanying pout on his brother’s face almost made Brody chuckle. “Can’t say it’s the highlight of my day, either. This is the fourth fire in the last few months. The first were small time stuff. But this? We’re talking about somebody burning down an entire building. We’re lucky there wasn’t anybody inside.”
Rafe pulled off his cowboy hat and ran his hand through his hair. “That thought has kept me awake. We need to figure this out, because I don’t want a firebug running around in my county, putting people’s lives at risk.”
“I’m going to run these samples to Austin in the morning. I want to talk with somebody I know, get his advice. I haven’t got a ton of arson expertise under my belt, since Shiloh Springs isn’t exactly a hotbed of fire starters. I’ll deliver the evidence to maintain the chain of evidence, but first, I have to call Ben Summers and tell him the bad news.”
Rafe nodded. “Why don’t you make the call from my office? Because knowing Ben, as soon as he hangs up from you, he’s gonna be calling me, wanting to know what I’m doing to catch whoever burned down his barn. Might as well let him talk to both of us together.”
“It’s a dang shame, too. This is a great piece of land. Thankfully, the house is still standing, and didn’t sustain any damage.” Brody pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “Do you remember—”
“When we snuck smokes up in the loft? How could I forget? I thought we were going to have to haul you to the hospital, you choked so hard. Your first and last cigarette, as I recall.”
Brody laughed at the memory. “I remember Greg daring us. Said I was too chicken to smoke. Being chicken had nothing to do with it. I was too scared of what Ms. Patti would do if she caught me smoking. I think we sprayed half a can of air freshener on our clothes so she wouldn’t know.”
“Trust me, she knew.”
Brody smiled at the memory. “I’m not surprised. She knew everything we ever did. Still does, though I try to pretend I have a few secrets she hasn’t uncovered.”
Rafe chuckled. “You keep thinking that, bro. Might help you sleep better at night.”
Brody lifted the yellow caution tape and stepped underneath, walking past his brother toward his truck. He wasn’t looking forward to the next couple of hours. Informing anybody when their property had been destroyed was never easy, especially when it was a friend. Gently placing the evidence bags on the seat, he turned toward Rafe.
“I’m gonna want to lock these in the safe at the sheriff’s office until tomorrow. Need to keep the chain of custody intact and having them secured overnight at your office makes things a whole lot easier than taking ’em home with me.”
“No problem, bro.” Rafe studied him intently, and Brody started to feel like an insect with its wings pinned to a poster board in some kid’s science presentation. Not a comfortable feeling.
“What?” Well, shoot, that came out a lot louder than I intended.
“I…never mind.”
“Whatever it is, just ask already.”
“Fine.” Rafe blew out a long breath before he continued. “Is everything okay? You’ve been acting—I don’t know—distant. Like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Whatever it is, you know I’m here for you, right?”
Brody wasn’t surprised by his brother’s observation. Antonio had pretty much asked the same thing when he’d visited him in Austin, right before the whole thing with Serena. Which was probably a good thing too, because Antonio’s sense of perceptiveness was on par with big brother Rafe when it came to family. As much as he wanted to talk to Rafe about his growing attraction for Beth, he wasn’t ready.
“It’s nothing, I swear. I’ve just had a lot on my plate lately, you know? Besides, you’ve got more than enough to take care of with your fiancée and your wedding plans. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Rafe didn’t look convinced at his words. When he started to speak, Brody held up his hand. “I give you my word, if I need to talk, you’ll be the first one I come to, okay?”
“You better,” Rafe grumbled, before heading toward his truck. “I’ll meet you at the station.”
Brody climbed behind the wheel of his own truck, started it, and followed his brother away from the blackened barn and toward town, wondering how long he could keep fooling himself about his feelings toward Beth. His feelings for his soon-to-be sister-in-law weren’t going away; instead, every time he thought about her, he felt himself slipping further and further into a quagmire of unfamiliar emotions, with no way out.
Maybe his dad was right. It was time he did something about it.
Step number one, ask her out. Yep, sounded like a good start.
CHAPTER SIX
Beth walked out of the house onto the front porch, and sat on the front step, where she could keep an eye on Jamie while she took the call, her mind racing a thousand miles a minute. The last person in the world she’d expected to hear from was on the phone, currently holding while Beth geared up to talk to her former sister-in-law.
“Camilla, thanks for holding. We’re right in the middle of moving into a new place, and I needed to check on Jamie.”
She watched as Jamie spun around in circles on the small patch of front lawn, her arms spread wide as she twirled faster and faster, her infectious giggles making Beth smile. Jamie’s happiness meant everything, and she’d do whatever it took to see her daughter never suffered from her father’s misdeeds.
“How is Jamie? I miss her.”
Beth heard the truth in Camilla’s voice. It wasn’t hard to believe Camilla missed her niece. She’d been the doting auntie, always willing to step in and babysit any chance she got. More often than not, whenever she visited, there was inevitably a new toy or trinket for Jamie. Camilla had been at the hospital when Jamie was born, had been there throughout the long, arduous hours of labor, and had been one of the first people in the room when she’d been allowed visitors.
A twinge of guilt hit. Was it right to paint her with the same brush as her brother? Logically, it wasn’t fair, but didn’t mean she automatically got a free pass. Truth be told, it was probably going to be a long time before
Beth trusted anybody easily.
“Jamie’s great. She’s playing in the yard right now, and loving every minute.”
“Good. Beth, I know I’ve said it before, but I honestly had no idea what Evan was doing. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact my brother tried to hurt your sister. But I didn’t know. I swear.”
“I believe you, Camilla. You aren’t your brother, and I’m trying really hard to get past what he did. That’s why we’re here in Texas. It’s a brand-new start for me and Jamie. There are too many memories in North Carolina. Bad memories. Sad memories. We’re happier here.”
There was a catching sound on the other end, like Camilla had drawn in a ragged breath. “I understand. I guess I thought—assumed—you’d be coming back. I miss you and Jamie. I miss our friendship. When you married Evan, I felt as if I gained a sister, and I’d hate it if that was gone. Please, Beth, don’t let what my brother did drive a wedge between us. The thought of never seeing you or Jamie again, it’s tearing me apart inside.”
“Camilla, I don’t blame you because your brother is a rotten—” Beth broke off before calling Evan a host of really nasty names. No matter how much she now despised the loathsome toad, she couldn’t take her ire out on Camilla. Evan was responsible for his actions, not his sister, and he’d get exactly what was coming to him. If she had her way, he’d spend the rest of his rotten life behind bars, with a very large roommate named Bubba.
“Don’t think you have to censure yourself because he’s my brother. You can’t possibly call him anything worse than I’ve already called him. Which is part of the reason I’m calling. I’m going to be in Texas. I’ve got some papers Evan needs to sign. I was hoping, maybe, I could stop by and see you and Jamie?”