He was surprised by her words. "I had no idea. And I didn't know the circumstances of your husband's death. What happened?"
"We were all supposed to be gone that weekend. There was a camping trip, but Sam decided to stay home and work. Then I came home early with Craig, so instead of an empty house, there were three of us inside. They never caught the person who did it."
"That's terrible. I'm sorry, Janet."
"That's why I'm so worried now. Detective Cole tried to reassure me, but it feels just like the last time. There were no answers then, and eventually everyone just moved on." She blew out a breath, tension raging in her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'll put the cake in the kitchen and get started on dinner," she added, taking the container out of Wes's hands and heading down the hall.
"She's pretty upset," he murmured.
"She hasn't been sleeping well. The fire in her house was set in the middle of the night, just like these last two. The arsonist came in through the basement door. Janet rarely sleeps through the night without waking up once or twice to check that the house is secure. These latest fires have put her on edge again."
"Sixteen years ago, you would have still been on the force."
"I was. It was a horrific night. I didn't know them then, but the agony of Sam's death, the screams of pain from her little boy and from Janet, were something I've never forgotten. I was angry that we couldn't nail anyone for the fire. Thankfully, it was the last of three fires. There wasn't another one while I was on the force."
"I wonder if it could be the same person. It sounds like there are some similarities between some of the fires."
"There are, but where has the arsonist been the last sixteen years?"
"I don't know."
"I hope the investigators now can find a good suspect, before someone else gets hurt. Janet told me her son, Craig, went on a bender after the last fire. It brought back all the painful memories. He was only eight when he had to go through incredibly painful skin grafts. He still has some serious scars."
"That's rough."
"You should meet Craig sometime. Not about this fire business, but he's only a few years younger than you. You could be friends, which would be nice, because Janet and I…" Wes cleared his throat. "Well, she's special. She's a lot younger than me, and sometimes I wonder why she'd settle for me when she could have anyone."
"You're not so bad." He smiled at his grandfather's awkwardness. "And I figured she was special. I'm happy to meet her son any time."
"We'll set up a dinner together. You could bring a date if you wanted, maybe your pretty neighbor."
"She's dead-set against dating me, so I can't make any promises."
"You'll convince her. I know you, Brodie. When you want something, you go after it with all your heart, and you usually win."
"We'll see."
As he got into his car, he thought about Janet and her son and the fire that had taken the life of a husband and a father. He wasn't responsible for solving the arson cases—that was on Adam and the fire investigator—but he really wanted to do something to help. He wondered if Chelsea had gotten any more information out of Travis.
He pulled out his phone and gave her a call. It rang three times, and then she answered.
"Hello?"
"It's me, Brodie."
"What's going on?"
"I got some information on a past fire here in Whisper Lake that made me curious if Travis added any new details to his picture."
"The van is a lot more detailed. The flower decal is on the window. The vehicle appears to be white. I have the picture in my bag. Are you home?"
"Actually, I'm about to head that way from my grandfather's house, but I was thinking of stopping at the Grandview Lodge. It's a warm night. They have a big patio, a fantastic lake view, and a happy hour that goes until seven. Care to join me?" He found himself holding his breath, quite sure she'd probably say no, and as her hesitation went on, he thought it was going to definitely be a no.
"I do like that lodge. You can see across the whole lake," she said slowly.
"Then join me."
"I don't want to give you the wrong idea."
"I have no idea, except I'm thirsty, and I'd like to see Travis's picture and hang out with you."
"Nice try," she said, humor in her voice. "But I know you have ideas."
"Fine. That doesn't mean we have to act on any of them."
"One drink."
"I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."
"Same. See you then."
He put down his phone, feeling remarkably happy that she'd agreed to a drink. Of course, it could be that she was still trying to avoid Austin. But he didn't care why she'd said yes, only that she'd agreed to meet him. He hoped it wouldn't be the last time he got a yes out of her. Because she was right—he had a lot of ideas when it came to her.
The Grandview Lodge was a ten-room hotel that sat atop a steep hill on the west shore of the lake. It was pure luxury and any celebrities making their way to Whisper Lake usually stayed there. In addition to a marbled lobby, and a beautiful wood-paneled great room, one of the biggest selling points of the lodge was the enormous deck that overlooked Moonlight Cove, a very special cove that had been named for the shimmering waves seen under a full moon.
Brodie was sitting at a table for two by the railing overlooking the road below and the lake. He got up as she walked over to him, sneaking in a quick kiss on the cheek before she had a chance to duck away. It was hard to get angry when she saw the warm gleam of desire in his eyes.
"That's the only kiss you get," she told him.
"I figured I better get it in before you said no kisses."
She bit back a smile. He was too attractive and too charming. She sat down across from him and gazed at the view. "This is beautiful."
"I love coming up here."
"So do I, but I feel guilty."
"Why?" he asked in surprise.
"Because the Grandview competes with Lizzie for hotel guests and diners."
"There can be two great places in Whisper Lake."
"I know. And this place is not as quaint or as personal as the Firefly Inn."
"That's true. No chocolate chip cookies on the menu. What would you like to drink?"
She glanced down at the cocktail menu. "Maybe a mojito. It feels like that kind of a day."
"I'll join you," he said, as the waitress came over to not only take their order but also to set down a bowl of freshly-made warm potato chips with a spicy ranch dip.
"That looks deadly," she said with a laugh.
He dipped a chip and popped it into his mouth. "But excellent. You should try one."
"Oh, I intend to." She loaded her chip with a heaping spoonful of dip, then took a bite. "You're right. Amazing. We really are having some good food together."
"I'm glad you're getting something out of our non-date get-togethers."
"Something," she murmured, as they exchanged a very personal look. Clearing her throat, she opened her bag and pulled out Travis's picture. "Here's what he drew today."
Brodie took a long look at the drawing. "It definitely looks like a white van that might belong to a florist, a gardener, or a landscaper... It's a direction to go in. There can't be that many white vans in Whisper Lake."
"You don't think?" she asked doubtfully. "I feel like every delivery service has a white van."
"Do you mind if I give this to Adam tomorrow?"
"Please do. I'm not sure he'll find it helpful, but if there's a clue to be found, I want to make sure someone finds it."
"That's how I feel. I had a rough conversation with my grandfather's girlfriend Janet Robbins. She was trapped in an arson fire about sixteen years ago. Her son was burned. Her husband was killed. And it was the third fire after two previous fires had been set in empty homes."
She frowned at his words. "That sounds like what's happening now. Do you think it's the same person?"
"It's something to consider. J
anet says she's spoken to Adam about her case, so I know they're looking into any similarities."
"That's good."
"I just feel bad for Janet. She's terrified that it is the same arsonist, and I think deep down she's afraid he'll come after her again. My grandfather says she's not sleeping at all."
"I wouldn't be sleeping, either. She's a lovely lady, and she makes the best cakes."
"Which is why my grandfather has added about ten pounds to his frame this year. He tells me it's love; I think it's cake."
"Maybe it's both," she said with a laugh, then picked up the mojito the waitress had just set down and took a sip. It was minty and refreshing, exactly what she needed on a beautiful summer night. "How was your day today?"
"Not bad." He paused as a squeal of tires drew their gaze to the road below. A speeding car came around the bend way over the middle line. A car coming from the opposite direction swerved, but a collision was inevitable.
She gasped as the impact sent the speeding car toward the edge of the road where there was no guard wall, no barrier to at least a fifty-foot drop.
They both jumped to their feet as the car flew over the side of the road. A woman on the patio screamed.
Brodie ran across the patio to the exterior stairs leading down to the road. She quickly followed. The other vehicle had stopped a quarter mile away, on a strip of the highway where there was more of a shoulder.
Brodie moved across the road, yelling at her to call 9-1-1.
She realized she'd left her bag on her chair, but it didn't matter; there were already several other people on their phones.
She ran across the street and saw the car turned upside down in the lake, the front part having landed on a big boulder.
"Oh, my God," she murmured, putting a hand to her mouth. "How could anyone survive?"
"Someone did," Brodie said grimly, waving toward the figure in the water, struggling to stay afloat. "I'm going down there."
"What?" she asked in shock. "It's ridiculously steep."
"I can make it."
"But help is on the way."
"I'm already here."
"You don't have a rope or anything."
"Go back across the street. Don't worry. I'll be fine."
And with that, he moved down the steep rocky hillside with confident, quick steps. She didn't do as he requested. She couldn't go back across the street. She had to stay here. She had to make sure he was all right. Two other young guys joined her.
"Holy shit," one of them said. "I can't believe he's doing that."
She couldn't believe it, either, but Brodie hadn't even hesitated, and she could see the fearlessness he'd once been known for. Only this time, he wasn't skiing; he was trying to save someone's life.
"It wasn't my fault," a middle-aged woman said, as she came toward them, tears streaming down her face. "The car came across the line. I tried to avoid it."
"You're right. He was driving crazy," she said. "I saw the whole thing from the patio."
The woman gave her a grateful look. "You'll tell the police that?"
"I won't have to. That man down there saw it, too. And he's a cop." She bit down on her lip as Brodie reached the edge of a slick rock. He was still at least twenty feet above the water, but there was no way to get any closer.
Unless, of course, you were willing to jump. Apparently, Brodie was willing.
He kicked off his shoes and leapt into the lake.
Holding her breath, she prayed for him to come back to the surface. It seemed to take forever, and then his head bobbed up. He looked around, then swam toward the victim, who was slipping under the water.
Brodie grabbed the man and began swimming him toward the shore, managing to keep the man's head above water. He pulled him onto a half-submerged rock and began CPR and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation as a fire truck, police car and ambulance pulled up.
Within minutes, two firefighters were repelling down the hillside with a stretcher in tow. When they reached Brodie, they put the victim into the metal cage and brought him back up to the top where paramedics were waiting.
Brodie put his shoes back on and climbed up the hill a few minutes later, with the help of a rope this time.
The crowd broke into applause when he reached the top. He shrugged off their appreciative gratitude with a smile, as water dripped from his hair and clothes. Then he headed toward her. She couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around him and gave him a hug, followed by a kiss.
"Hey, I thought I was at my limit," he joked as she let him go.
"What the hell were you thinking, going down the mountain and jumping into the lake like that? You could have fallen. You could have hurt yourself. You could have died." She drew in a shaky breath. "Sorry. I shouldn't be yelling at you. I was scared."
"I'm okay, Chelsea. I knew what I was doing. I've been rock climbing since I was a kid. And I know mountains from my days as a skier."
"You should have waited for a rope, at the very least."
"There wasn't time to wait. He had stopped breathing when I got to him."
"I saw that. But now…"
"His heart is beating, and he's breathing. I don't know any more than that. But, hopefully, he survives."
"Do you think he was drunk or just took the curve too fast?"
"I have no idea. But we'll figure it out." He paused. "I need to go to the hospital and follow up on this. I'm sorry for cutting our date—our non-date—short."
"It's fine. Will you call me later and tell me how the man is?"
"I will. You can get back okay?"
"Of course." As he started to move away, she grabbed his arm. "Brodie—that was amazing. You were fearless. That man was lucky you were here. You saved his life."
"Only if he makes it," Brodie said grimly. "I'll call you later."
She walked back across the road and up the stairs. Her purse was still at her table. She asked the waitress for her bill, but the woman waved her away, saying everything was on the house after that horrifying crash.
By the time she got in her car and pulled out onto the road, the ambulance was gone, but Brodie was still talking to some of the other responders.
As she drove past him, he gave her a small wave. She was a little nervous as she drove along the steep, narrow roadway, the crash running through her mind. She breathed a little easier when it widened to two lanes, and then her thoughts returned to Brodie.
He might have settled for his second career as a cop, but he was very, very good at it. And she liked him even more than she had before.
She just didn't know what she was going to do about it.
Chapter Ten
Chelsea spent the rest of the night and most of Friday thinking about Brodie instead of work. Even after she'd left school and headed over to the inn to help Lizzie get ready for the party, his image kept flashing through her head.
She'd gotten a text from him as she was getting ready for bed the previous night. He'd told her that the victim from the car crash was going to survive. Apparently, he was a diabetic who had passed out at the wheel, but he was now in stable condition. She was more than a little happy at the outcome, and she was sure Brodie was relieved, too.
She'd expressed her admiration once more for his heroic rescue, but he'd brushed it off, telling her it was just part of the job. But he hadn't been on the job, and he'd still jumped into action. That's the kind of man he was.
He'd then asked her for another non-date. She'd reminded him that Lizzie's party was tonight, and he'd said he'd see her there, which had sent a tingle down her spine.
Thinking about it now, she felt a similar shiver of anticipation.
But that shiver eventually turned into sweat as she ran around the inn doing her sister's bidding. By five thirty, everything was ready—at least, she hoped it was. She felt like she'd just run a marathon as she fluffed pillows, wiped down furniture, shuffled books in the salon, and did a last-minute trim on the rose bushes in the side yard.
No
w she was in the kitchen watching Raina, a tall, confident chef with long black hair swept up in a bun, take out a tray of pear and blue cheese pastry triangles from the oven. The food going out on the buffet tables was nothing short of spectacular.
"Those look perfect," she murmured.
Raina gave her a happy smile. "Would you like one?"
Before she could reply, her sister cut in. "Chelsea can wait on eating. I want to make sure we have enough food available for our guests."
"I guess I can wait," she said dryly, as Lizzie left the room.
Raina laughed. "Your sister can be a little bossy."
"She's nervous, but this party will be great, and a lot of that will be due to you. Lizzie is lucky to have you for the summer."
"I'm the lucky one. I needed some work to keep me sane." Raina set down her hot pads as a server took the tray of pastry puffs out to the dining room. "I love Victor, but I'm starting to realize that being a stepmother is a lot of work and a thankless job."
"The boys are giving you a hard time?"
"It's not even that. I just don't know how to interact with a seventeen-year-old and a fourteen-year-old. Marcus just graduated from high school and he's already bored here at the lake. He didn't want to come; he wanted to stay in LA with his friends and his mom. Joel is friendlier and a bit nicer to me, but he just wants to tag along with Marcus, who doesn't want him anywhere near him, so they're always fighting."
"It sounds difficult," she said sympathetically.
"I'm only ten years older than Marcus, so I can say nothing to him that he wants to hear."
"Most teenagers don't want to listen to their parents."
"And I'm not his mother, something he likes to remind me of often. I'm not even officially a stepmother yet. I wanted us to spend the summer together to make sure I could do this, but honestly, it's been four weeks, and I'm leaning toward breaking up with Vic."
"I didn't realize it was that bad."
"Maybe I'm too young, too selfish; I don't know. Vic is a great guy, and I adore him. I just wish there weren't so many years between us, so many different life experiences." Raina paused. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling on."
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