by Rita Herron
But he didn’t stay put. He sneaked up and watched his daddy and mama arguing in the kitchen.
“You’ll never leave me,” Daddy said. “Never.”
“Give me the boy and let me go,” Mama cried.
Daddy grabbed her arms and shook her. “You said till death do us part.”
Mama tried to jerk free and run, but Daddy flung her backward against the wall. She stumbled and her head hit the counter. Then his daddy lunged at her and wrapped his hands around her throat.
He stood frozen. A scream of terror lodged in his throat as his daddy choked the life out of her. She flailed her arms and hands, struggling to yank free. But his daddy was too strong and mad, like one of the rabid dogs he’d seen running free on the deserted mountain roads.
The world blurred out of focus. Smoke filled the air. Or maybe it was the tears blinding him. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes, but they felt gritty.
When his vision cleared, Daddy shoved Mama to the floor. He held his breath to see if she got up, but she lay still, in a puddle on the black-and-white tile. Her red dress spilled around her like blood. Her eyes looked wide as she stared up at the ceiling. Her hands were curled by her sides. She didn’t move.
Daddy lit the gas burner on the old gas stove, then tossed the match onto the flame. Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen.
A smile tilted Daddy’s mouth and a calmness came over him like it always did after his father gave Mama one of the beatings. A loud boom sounded, then flames burst through the house. The windows exploded, spraying glass. Wood crackled and popped. The roof collapsed.
Daddy ran toward him. He snatched his hand in his and held it so tight it hurt. They stood silently, watching the flames eat up the old house and everything in it.
“That’s what happens when your wife tries to leave you.” Daddy said as he dragged him toward the old pickup truck. “She has to be punished.”
He swallowed back a sob as his daddy pushed him into the truck. Daddy would punish him if he cried like a baby. “What about Mommy?” he finally whispered.
“Don’t worry, son,” Daddy said. “She should have listened like I told her.”
Then his daddy started the engine and drove away without looking back.
He turned in the seat and watched the smoke float in the sky and the flames light the darkness.
He would miss Mama.
But the fire was so pretty he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
Chapter Six
Griff felt like a stalker as he watched Ginny visit the barber shop and pet-grooming spa.
She was definitely investigating Joy’s murder, not just a routine arson story. Could she have known Joy? If so, why not admit it?
His phone buzzed and he connected, hoping Jacob had more information.
“Where are you?” Jacob asked without preamble.
“I’ve been following Ginny,” Griff said. “She came to Joy’s Nail Salon, then went in and talked to people at the barber shop and pet-grooming spa.”
“Stay close to her,” Jacob said. “Liam said he couldn’t find anything on her either. She must be using a fake name.”
“The question is why,” Griff muttered.
“Good question,” Jacob said. “Meanwhile I talked to Riley. She’s really torn up about Joy’s death. Said a developer came in talking about buying up that entire row of businesses and wanted everyone to sell.”
Griff’s pulse jumped. “I take it Joy didn’t want to sell?”
“No, apparently she was the only holdout. Owner of the barber shop said he’d already found another spot if he sold. But Joy liked the location and didn’t want to have to start over. Besides, the apartment space above was a perfect fit for her.”
“Who is this developer?” Griff asked.
“Some guy from Asheville named Thad Rigden. Liam is running a background on him, and I’m going to have a talk with him when I locate him.”
According to Ginny’s business card, she was from Asheville. Was there a connection?
Jacob’s words echoed in his head. Stay close to her. She must be using a fake name.
Griff decided to try a new tactic with her. He’d play nice. Just like his mother used to say: you catch more flies with honey.
Hell, he’d drip honey if necessary to find out why that pretty little woman had come to town and tried to use him.
* * *
GINNY HAD A bad feeling that Joy’s match date might have led to her death. Then again, if Robert had dated her, he could have met her at a bar or even walked into the barber shop for a shave, seen her next door and made contact.
“Did Joy mention having problems with anyone?” Ginny asked. “Maybe an old boyfriend?”
“Her ex was definitely an issue.” Katie waved to a customer with a sheltie as she entered the store. “Oh, and she and that developer butted heads.”
“Developer?”
“Yeah, Thad Rigden. He’s a big real estate developer who wanted to buy up all our stores and build condos here. Joy refused to sell when he offered her a deal. She liked the location and said Whistler didn’t need fancy condos. They needed to support local small businesses.”
“Were you going to sell?” Ginny asked.
Katie shrugged. “The money was good, and I needed it, so yeah. He promised to help me find another location. In fact, everyone was on board except Joy. Even her business partner was in favor.”
“Joy had a business partner?”
“Yeah, a private investor,” she said. “Although she never told me who it was.”
Ginny’s instincts reared their ugly head. The real estate agent would know the name of this investor. “So, I guess this investor stood to gain if the place sold. Or if an insurance settlement came from it.”
Katie fidgeted. “You think someone killed Joy for money over her shop?”
“I don’t know, just exploring theories,” Ginny said.
Either way, she intended to talk to the developer. Her mind pieced together a scenario. Robert had been business savvy and could have posed as the real estate mogul.
“Do you have his contact information?” Ginny asked.
The woman with the sheltie was approaching with a cart full of items including a dog bed and chew toys. Katie reached inside the drawer behind the counter. “He left some business cards,” she said and handed Ginny one of them.
“Thanks.” Ginny laid her own card on the counter by the register. “Call me if you think of anything else.”
She left Katie to deal with her customer, stepped outside then called the number for the developer. The phone rang three times, then the voice mail kicked on, so she left a message saying she was interested in speaking with him about some property for a business start-up, and that Katie had recommended him.
Maybe he’d know if Joy’s silent partner was Robert, or he could give her another name.
* * *
GRIFF WANTED TO talk to Ginny, but his phone buzzed. His boss.
“Sorry, Griff, I know it’s your day off, but we need help. Another wildfire, up at Pigeon Creek this time.”
Dammit. He was only a mile from the firehouse, so he drove over and joined the backup team just as the first on-call squad peeled from the fire station. He geared up quickly, hoping for rain to help drown out the fire. Though the dark clouds were ominous and threatening, they hadn’t yet unleashed. Still, the wind had shifted and picked up, adding to the problem.
His buddy, Trey, the lead today, radioed the GPS coordinates from the first squad and suggested Griff’s team take the east area where they believed the fire had begun. Team one would hit the center. The wind was carrying it fast, catching dried leaves and trees and moving in the direction of the new cabins on the creek.
“We have a squad near the cabins, already wetting the area down to ward off the blaze from reaching t
he houses. If this builds up momentum, we’ll need to attack it from above,” Trey said.
“Copy that,” Griff responded into the mike clipped to his uniform.
Flames lit the sky as the truck screeched to a stop; the sound of wood crackling and timber falling rumbled. This one had gotten out of control quickly.
He and his squad launched into action, rolling out hoses, raising ladders to be able to spray into the heart of the fire and hacking away vegetation inch by inch to keep it from catching in case the wind took an abrupt shift and the fire moved the opposite direction.
Heat suffused Griff, the odor of charred wood and debris rising in the air. Sweat beaded his skin inside his uniform, and the smoke was so thick he could barely see through his protective hat and face mask.
They worked for the next two hours, and finally got the damn blaze under control. Still they dumped more water on the embers to ensure the wind didn’t stir it back to life. Griff prayed no one was caught in the forest or trapped inside the blaze. The smoke alone could kill a person.
As the area where the fire started slowly died, he began searching for signs of the point of origin and an accelerant. Heat scalded him through his clothing, preventing him from traveling too deeply across the charred ground. He moved to the edge and scanned the area nearest the creek.
The sight of several empty beer bottles caught his eye, along with footprints. He shone his light into the brush and spotted a pack of matches. The fact that they were the same brand as the ones he’d discovered at the previous fire suggested they were dealing with one arsonist. Or if this was a bunch of teenagers, the same group of kids.
He bagged the matches and bottles to send to forensics. A few feet away, he found an empty bottle of lighter fluid.
He’d known these fires weren’t accidental, but now he had proof. Hopefully forensics could find a print somewhere on the items he’d collected, and they could stop this arsonist before someone was injured or a fatality occurred.
* * *
GINNY HAD QUESTIONED all of the business owners in the strip with Joy’s Nail Salon. Each one confirmed Katie’s story that they were on board to sell to the developer. The description of the developer could fit Robert, although none of them had seen him in person. And no one else had insight into a silent partner. Apparently, a female working with the developer had visited the property and made the initial assessment, then reported back to him.
Still gritty and achy from the earlier fall, she decided to return to the inn and shower before she met Karl Cross at the bar. She checked her surroundings and over her shoulder as she walked back to her car, then slid inside to drive back to the inn.
Once again, she had the uncanny sense she was being watched. She jerked her head around and scanned the parking lot. A man in a dark hoodie walked hurriedly toward a green Lexus. Another man in a suit and raincoat ducked into a sleek black Cadillac, although she couldn’t see his face.
Was she paranoid?
For months after she’d left Robert, and after Tess’s death, she’d thought she’d seen Robert everywhere. On the street, at the grocery store, in a car passing by, at the coffee shop... She’d told the police, but without proof he was following her, they couldn’t do anything.
At one point, she’d thought she was losing her mind.
But she’d been certain he was watching her. That he stayed in the shadows taunting her. He’d left dead flowers on her car once. Another time he’d written a message in lipstick on her mailbox.
Every time an incident occurred, she moved. Hid out in dive hotels. Hostels. Shelters. Anywhere she thought she might be safe. She’d lived in her Asheville apartment longer than she’d lived anywhere in three years.
She had no home anymore. No family. No one who cared.
Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she surveyed the street and watched to see if the sedan followed her as she veered from the parking lot. Dark clouds rumbled, the sky overcast and dreary just like her mood.
She parked at the inn, tugging the hood of her raincoat over her head as she grabbed her computer bag. Gripping it in one hand, she kept the other one over her weapon in her coat pocket as she hurried up the cobblestone path to the front door. The owner of the inn had decorated the front door with a handmade wreath, and bird feeders dotted the garden area to the right. A path led through a flower garden that supposedly featured the innkeeper’s love of roses, although nothing was blooming now.
Tess would have loved the garden. She would have painted all the beautiful colors with its lush green foliage and the backdrop of the mountains and sharp ridges rising above.
Ginny ducked inside the door, her heart aching as she climbed the stairs to her room. As she pulled her key from her purse and unlocked the door, an icy foreboding washed over her.
The cologne. She could smell Robert’s cologne as if he was in the room.
Fear nearly immobilized her. If he had been here, was he inside? Had he picked the lock?
She held her breath as she poked her head into the room. The coverlet and pillows on the iron bed were just as she’d left them. Her suitcase lay open on the luggage rack. The welcome basket sat on the table, the ribbon still tied at the base.
It didn’t appear anyone was inside.
Shoulders tense, she inched into the room. Had she left the bathroom door ajar?
She eased the hall door closed behind her, then pulled her gun at the ready and inched toward the bathroom. The door squeaked as she pushed it open and blood rushed to her head.
A message had been written in lipstick on the mirror just like the one Robert had written her before when he’d taunted her.
A message that said—I’m watching, love. I’m always watching.
* * *
GRIFF HAD JUST stepped from the shower when his phone buzzed. Jacob.
“Hey, man,” Griff said as he connected the call. “Did you receive my message about the forensics I sent to the lab?”
“Yeah, I told them to fast-track the lab work. I want to stop whoever’s doing this now.” Jacob paused. “I set up a time for us to talk to the students at a school assembly tomorrow. 10:00 a.m.”
Griff rubbed the back of his neck where his skin still felt scalded from the heat. “I’ll be there.”
A tense second passed, then Jacob cleared his throat. “By the way, I questioned some of the shop owners by Joy’s place. That reporter was all over town asking questions today just like you said.”
Griff rubbed a hand over his eyes. “She’s persistent at her job.”
“Yeah, but she might just get herself killed nosing around. I’ll pay her a visit and ask her to leave the investigation up to the law.”
Griff dropped his wet towel to the floor and grabbed a pair of boxers. “Let me talk to her first,” he offered. “She seemed spooked at the thought of talking to you.”
“Probably because if she interferes, I can arrest her.”
He hoped it didn’t come to that. “I’ll head over to the inn and talk to her now. Warn her that she needs to back off.” Not that he expected her to listen. But it was worth a shot.
They agreed, and ended the call, then Griff finished dressing. He pulled on a button-down navy shirt with his jeans and combed his hair. He didn’t know why he took the time with his appearance, but decided it was because he was headed to the bar to talk to the bartender after he left Ginny. Not because he wanted to impress her.
Five minutes later, he parked at the inn. A few raindrops pinged the ground just as he reached the porch. Wind chimes tinkled as the breeze stirred them, and the scent of rain filled the air. He entered the inn, then went to the desk and asked for Ginny’s room.
The owner’s eyes flickered with interest as if she thought he was there on a date.
He silently groaned then climbed the stairs and knocked on the door to the Sunflower room.
Seconds passed with no response, and he knocked again. “Ginny, it’s Griff. We need to talk.”
Another second, then two. Finally, her voice. “Just a minute.”
Footsteps sounded inside, then the lock turned, and Ginny appeared. The moment he saw her, he knew something was wrong.
Her face looked ashen, and a bandage on her forehead made his eyebrows raise. It was mostly hidden by her hair but visible when she tilted her head sideways. Her hands also looked bruised, the palms scraped.
What in the hell had happened to her?
Chapter Seven
Robert’s message kept replaying in Ginny’s head. I’m watching, love. I’m always watching.
She hadn’t been paranoid. Whether or not Robert had killed Joy, he was here in Whistler. And he’d been inside her room.
Nausea threatened, but she swallowed hard, determined to pull herself together. She inhaled sharply, rattled by Griff’s appearance.
Why had he shown up right now?
She needed time to assimilate the fact that Robert was close by. That she’d thought she was prepared to confront him. To kill him. But now her courage was waffling.
“Ginny?” Griff’s voice sounded thick with worry. He gently took her arm, closed the door behind him and guided her over to the bed. Her knees felt so pathetically weak that she sank onto the mattress. On some level, it registered that she hadn’t been alone with a man since Robert. And that Griff was big and muscular and could probably overtake her if he wanted.
But the fear fogging her brain had nothing to do with Griff.
He knelt in front of her, gently lifted her hands and examined her palms. “Tell me what happened. You didn’t have these at the café.”
She looked at her palms in a daze. She barely felt the sting of the scrapes now, just the cold, hard terror of knowing Robert was two steps ahead of her. That she’d thought she might have control.
“What happened?” Griff asked again, his voice riddled with worry.