“It is the truth. Good. See what you can work out.”
“I will. Text me and let me know what the fire marshal says.”
Corbin promised he would.
“I was thinking . . . once everything calms down there, why don’t you bring Jolie back out on the road with you. It’ll keep you focused on the rest of the tour and will get her out of Riverview for a while.”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely. Let me work out the details.”
Corbin sighed with relief. “Thanks, Karin.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, and Corbin, one more thing?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t kill anybody. I’m happy to bail you out of jail, but I really don’t have time for a murder trial.”
Corbin hung up without promising her a thing.
He made his way back into his parents’ living room and found Jolie sitting on the couch, surrounded by the twins. His family had tried not to hover, but it was hard to explain the stages of grief to kids. Jolie didn’t seem to mind the company. Faith held her hand while Hope read aloud from a storybook. Corbin, not wanting to disrupt them, simply walked up behind Jolie and placed a kiss on her head before sitting down in the recliner across the room.
“You’re such a good reader, Faith.” Jolie said as the little girl closed the book.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “Are you sad, Jolie?”
“I’m a little sad, yeah.”
“Daddy tried,” Hope said gently. “Daddy tried to save your bookstore. He’s really sorry.”
Corbin swallowed convulsively, trying hard to keep his emotions in check. The girls were so innocent and sweet. They had no idea just how cruel the real world could be.
“I know he did, sweetheart.”
Jolie’s eyes glistened with tears, and Corbin could tell by the look on her face that she was close to falling apart. His strong girl had been surrounded by family every second, and he knew she was exhausted—physically and emotionally. Time to say goodnight.
“Girls,” he said. “Jolie’s really tired. I’m going to take her upstairs and tuck her in, okay?”
The twins climbed onto their knees and kissed Jolie’s cheeks before running to the kitchen to find their grandparents. Corbin walked over and offered his hand.
“I couldn’t sleep if I tried,” she said, but she took his hand and let him lead her upstairs.
“That’s okay. Come shower with me.”
When they reached the bathroom, he turned on the water before they slowly peeled each other out of their clothes. They both smelled like smoke, and he hoped the shower would relax her enough so that she could get some rest.
Corbin took her hand and helped her into the tub.
“Turn around,” he whispered.
Grabbing the shampoo, he gently massaged it into her long blonde hair. Jolie sighed softly as his fingers worked their magic—first in her hair, and then on the aching muscles in her shoulders and back. After the shower, they took turns drying each other off and got dressed.
“Thank you, Corbin.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
“Now I’m sleepy.”
“Good. But let me do this first.”
He gently lifted her onto the vanity and grabbed the hair dryer. Corbin wasn’t used to such long hair, and it took way longer than he anticipated, but Jolie sat patiently while he dried her hair. When he finished, she grabbed his brush, but Corbin gently took it out of her hands.
Jolie smirked. “I’m not helpless, you know.”
“I know, but I want to do it.”
They walked to his bedroom, and Jolie sat down on the edge of the bed. Corbin climbed in behind her and pulled her gently against his chest. He placed a tender kiss on her shoulder before taking the brush and running it slowly through her blonde waves.
“I love your hair,” he said softly. “Have I ever told you that?”
She simply nodded, and when he was finished, he placed another kiss on the side of her neck.
“All done.”
Jolie thanked him and climbed under the blanket. Corbin laid down beside her and pulled her into his arms. Holding her close, he pressed soft kisses to every inch of her face.
“Corbin?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“My heart is broken.”
“I know, baby.”
Her eyes glistened with tears.
“But part of me . . . part of me is relieved that it’s gone.”
Corbin wiped her tears as he tried to make sense of her confession. Heartbreak he understood. But relief?
“All my life, all I wanted was to own my very own bookstore. They were my favorite places when I was a kid. A magical place filled with books and music and memories of my mom. But to actually own a bookstore and have my financial security rely on its success . . . I wasn’t prepared for the stress of that, and all the stress erased whatever happiness the store brought me. At first, Turn the Page was my sanctuary, but then it became this huge burden. Sales weren’t getting better. Even if we paid off the mortgage, we probably would’ve gone out of business within a year or so. And it’s nobody’s fault. It’s just business. But my heart . . . my heart just wasn’t in it anymore.”
Corbin could understand that. That’s always the danger of turning something you love into your career. The stakes are higher, and money becomes your motivation out of pure necessity.
“I can relate to that,” he said. “My music’s the same way. All I ever wanted to do was write songs, but unless you make it big, there’s really no money in it. That’s why I’m back on tour.”
Jolie’s face fell. “That’s my fault.”
“No.” Corbin gently lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. “That was my decision. It was the only chance to get a songwriting deal. Otherwise, I would’ve had to find a soul sucking, nine to five job . . . or worse. I might have had to move away from Riverview. I don’t regret going on tour. We’ve played some great cities and met some wonderful fans. My only regret is being away from you, but I just keep reminding myself that it means good things for our future. Then, I can truly do what I love.”
Jolie smiled. “You can write.”
“And I can be with you. That’s all I want. But what about you? Is there something you’d like to do?”
Jolie considered that. “You know, every time Ms. McDonald walked into the bookstore, she always told me that I should come work with her at the public library. I think she’d like to retire, but there’s no one else in town willing to run the place.”
“You could do that. Easily.”
“Maybe. It’s small, but it has an awesome children’s section. I love kids, and I could still surround myself with books. I just wouldn’t have to rely on selling them to make a living.” Jolie’s voice turned somber. “I will miss the store, though. And my customers. I made a lot of memories there . . . the best of which were with you.”
“We’ll make new memories.” Corbin smiled and kissed her forehead. “Speaking of which, what do you think about joining me for the rest of the tour?”
“Really? On the bus?”
“If you’d like. After Cincinnati, we’re headed north. Michigan. Minnesota. The tour ends in Ontario.”
“Oh, I’d love to go. I’ve never been to Canada.”
Corbin couldn’t hide his smile as an idea weaved its way into his mind.
Suddenly, he had big plans for Ontario.
Jolie snuggled closer and closed her eyes. “I’m so tired. Sing me to sleep?”
“Any requests?”
“Doesn’t matter. I love everything you sing.”
Corbin held her tightly in his arms as he began to sing. By the time he made it to the chorus, she was fast asleep.
The next morning, Corbin convinced Jolie to go shopping with his mom and Kellie in Gatlinburg while he and Ben dealt with the investigators.
“Corbin
, this is Kurt Jackson. He’s the state fire marshal.”
He offered his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Jackson.”
“You, too. Sorry it couldn’t be under better circumstances. My wife is a big fan of yours.”
“I appreciate that.”
Mr. Jackson gazed at the debris. His men were already sifting through the rubble. “I understand this was your girlfriend’s bookstore?”
“That’s right.”
“Ben tells me the bookstore was struggling financially.”
“Why does that matter?”
Ben cleared his throat. “People sometimes take matters into their own hands when business is bad. To collect the insurance money.”
“You don’t seriously suspect—”
“I don’t,” Ben said softly.
“I’m sure that’s not the case here,” Mr. Jackson said kindly. “But it’s my job to find out. My investigators will need to speak with Miss Daniels. It’s standard procedure.”
“I’ve seen a lot of fires. There’s not a doubt in my mind this was arson,” Ben said.
“And I’m not doubting your expertise. What’s important to the insurance company is who set the fire. I just want to make Miss Daniels aware of the possible speculation. The insurance company will require substantial evidence before paying the claim.”
“Then I guess your men better get busy,” Corbin replied brusquely.
Mr. Jackson nodded and led a few of his men toward the smoky remains.
“He’s just doing his job, Corbin. They’ll figure it out.”
He nodded slowly as they watched the men sift through the debris, take pictures, and interview some witnesses. One of the first firefighters on the scene told them that the stockroom door was open when they arrived, and he’d encountered dark black smoke upon entering. Corbin didn’t know why that mattered, but it seemed important to the investigators.
“In wooden structures like the bookstore,” Ben explained, “the presence of thick, black smoke usually indicates the use of an accelerant, typically gasoline. An open stockroom door would provide ventilation.”
“Which would help the fire spread faster,” Corbin replied.
Ben nodded.
“Jolie never opened those doors, not even for shipments. They were too heavy for her to close on her own, so all deliveries were made up front.”
“That’s good. I’ll tell Kurt.”
After three hours of watching the men sift through the debris, Corbin decided to walk over to the diner to grab some coffee. Thankful to find the place wasn’t too crowded, he sat down at the counter and placed his order. He was just digging in his pocket for some cash when he saw Aaron Hayes step out of the kitchen. Aaron stopped abruptly when he spotted Corbin sitting on a stool, but he recovered quickly and waited until the waitress handed him the coffee before walking over.
“Put your money away,” Aaron said. “It’s on the house.”
“Thanks.”
Corbin handed the waitress the ten-dollar bill. She thanked him before heading out to check on her tables.
“How’s Jolie doing?” Aaron asked.
“She’s okay. Pretty shaken up.”
Aaron pensively glanced out the window. Corbin hadn’t noticed it before, but from this stool inside the diner, he had a perfect view of the back of the bookstore. Or, what used to be the bookstore. Now all you could see was rubble.
“Sure is a shame,” Aaron said. “Mom loved that bookstore.”
Corbin remembered the day Aaron came in to buy books for his mom. It was the same day Ashton came to town. It seemed like a hundred years ago.
“Jolie’s a nice girl. She didn’t deserve this.”
“No, she didn’t.” Corbin said. “The investigators are sifting through the damage now. They suspect arson.”
Suddenly, Aaron became very interested in his phone. It was subtle, but Corbin noticed that Aaron’s hands were shaking as he scrolled through the screen.
“Something wrong?”
Aaron blinked rapidly. “What?”
“You seem . . . nervous.”
Aaron glanced out the window, once again fixing his gaze on where the bookstore used to be.
He knows something.
“You know, Aaron, if someone is going around setting fires, that person needs to be behind bars. I’d hate to see this happen to any other businesses.”
Aaron’s eyes darted from the window and back to Corbin.
“I don’t know anything for sure.”
“Understood.”
Aaron looked over his shoulder before leaning close.
“Did you know that Gavin Massey made bail two days ago?”
Corbin’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think bail was an option.”
“Apparently his lawyer found some judge that made it an option.”
Rage flooded Corbin’s veins.
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“Neither did I,” Aaron whispered. “Not until I saw Gavin running out the back door of Jolie’s bookstore last night.”
Corbin grinned.
Jackpot.
Aaron gave his statement to the sheriff and the investigators and apologized for not coming forward immediately. Corbin understood his hesitation. Aaron had a business of his own to protect, and he was risking Gavin’s wrath by talking now.
“I’ll put some of my men at the diner. Around the clock,” Keith said.
“I appreciate that.”
The evidence collected by the team already pointed to arson, and Aaron’s statement provided them with a suspect. Corbin should’ve felt relieved, but he didn’t. Gavin was already out of jail for attacking Jolie. What if his lawyer convinced the judge that he wasn’t responsible for the arson, no matter what the evidence might prove?
That question still plagued Corbin hours later, long after the investigators were gone. He was wandering through the rubble, kicking at the charred remains, when his brother walked up to him. The rage in Ben’s eyes caught Corbin by surprise, but it was oddly comforting at the same time, certain that the fury on his brother’s face matched his own.
Ben placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.
“So, we’re kicking some ass, right?”
The question was music to his ears.
Corbin took one last, long look at the debris, and then he nodded.
“Yes, we are.”
Gavin Massey might be rich, but that was only because Isaac Massey, his grandfather, had struck oil back in the 80s. Before that, the Masseys owned a dairy farm, not realizing they were sitting on a goldmine. Isaac sold the mineral rights and vowed to never milk another cow for the rest of his life, and he didn’t.
Neither did his children. Or their children.
Isaac loved Riverview and donated a ton of money to the town, but since he passed away, his sons—and grandsons—weren’t as generous with their wealth. Now, the Masseys preferred to help the town by bulldozing their homes and businesses to the ground.
Or burning them.
Corbin clenched his fists around the steering wheel as he stared at Gavin’s mansion and iron gate.
“You didn’t think we could drive right up to the front door, did you?” Ben asked. “This place is always locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”
“No, but I figured it was a good place to start.”
“He’s probably not here, anyway. Let’s try Paul’s.”
“Who’s that?”
“Gavin’s cousin. He’s a good guy. Maybe he can help us.”
Ben gave him the address, and Corbin headed that way.
“You know we can’t kill him, right?” Ben said. “Don’t get me wrong. I am more than ready to kick some ass, but we can’t kill him. I’ve got a wife and kids and a baby on the way. You’ve got Jo—”
“I know. I have no intention of committing murder tonight.”
Ben nodded. “Good. Paul’s right up here. Blue house.”
Corbin pulled into the driveway and turned off the igniti
on. The brothers had barely climbed out of the truck when the front door opened. A tall, lanky man wearing a flannel shirt and baseball cap walked out on the porch.
“I could’ve saved you a trip. Gavin’s not here.”
“Any idea where he might be?” Ben asked.
“Haven’t seen him since he made bail.”
“We just want to talk to him,” Corbin said.
Paul chuckled darkly. “Right. Somebody messed with my girl, the last thing I’d want to do is talk.”
“So you understand.”
“I do.” Paul nodded. “Look, Ben, we go way back, but you know I can’t help you. I just can’t. I’m sorry about that. All I can do is promise you that he’s not here.”
Corbin sighed. No matter what . . . blood is thicker. Always.
The brothers thanked him before climbing back into the truck.
“Where to now?” Corbin asked.
Just as he pulled out of the driveway, his cell phone rang.
“You drive. I’ll answer.” Ben glanced at the screen. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“It’s the sheriff.”
Corbin groaned and continued driving toward town.
“Afternoon, Keith.”
It only took a second before Ben was handing Corbin the cell.
“He wants to talk to you.”
Corbin grabbed the phone but kept his eyes on the two-lane road.
“Keith.”
“Where are you, Corbin?”
“Just driving around.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Shit.
“Corbin, I’m gonna need you to turn yourself in. I received a call that you boys are disturbing the peace.”
“What the hell? We’re not disturb—”
“And now you’re arguing with the sheriff, which means I’m gonna have to lock you up.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“You can either turn yourself in, or I can come get you. What will it be?”
“Damn it, Keith. Fine. I’m on my way.”
Corbin threw the phone on the dashboard and broke the speed limit as he drove toward the jail.
“This is complete and utter bullshit.”
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