“I know, I know. I’m the biggest idiot around. Just say it.”
“Naw, man. You just encounter a blockade when it comes to thinking.” Caden’s summation rang of truth.
Lexi pulled her laptop from her satchel hanging on the chair back. “I did find more info on the victim in Katt’s house.”
Before she could elaborate, Katt trotted down the steps.
“Hi, guys. Good to see everybody together again.” Her faltering steps across the living room betrayed her understanding of their prior conversation.
“Hey, Katt.” Lexi, closest in age and character, patted the seat beside her. “Sit. We’ve found a lead.”
“Good. Let’s see.” Katt accepted the plate Matt offered before sitting.
When he sat at the end of the table, cattycorner to her, he expected the few brief frowns. “It’s time we got this scenario under control.”
“Amen to that,” Billy’s double entendre offered the shared warning.
“It turns out; the guy found in your house went to the same college as Denny. Not only did they share a bunch of classes, but in looking at their yearbook, it seems they were part of a trio.” Lexi nibbled her lower lip and increased the flurry of keyboard tapping.
“And those records were available online?” Matt asked.
“They are now.” Chuckles around the table encouraged Lexi’s hacking, which had infected Katt as well.
“I can do a sketch of the prick in the woods this morning. Then we can run him through facial recognition.” Katt pulled her laptop from the table’s center and booted up.
“Anyway, the third part of the equation is a guy named Larry Neaman. They all studied solar fuel, all graduated the same time, and they all started working for a company called Liquid Sun.”
“Does Larry still work for them?” Matt prayed for closure on the case confounding their lives.
“According to his last paycheck, no. He stopped working there about a month ago. I can’t pick up his trail from there.” Lexi turned her screen to reveal the staff photo of an unassuming male in a white shirt wearing an employee badge.
“Ohmygod! That’s him. That’s the creep from the elevator and the woods.” Katt choked on a mouthful of ham sandwich. “Any luck on finding Denny’s cabin hideaway?”
“No. Maybe it did belong to a friend,” Lexi supplied. “Or maybe it’s under a dummy corporation’s name. He’s smart enough. I see no bank withdrawals or evidence that he’s fled the state.”
“Maybe his old college buddy found him. We still don’t know the specific nature of their connection,” Billy advised.
“Either way, we have two possible unknowns at large, and at least one of them targeting Katt.” Matt went on to describe the confrontation and suspected lure on Katt’s boots.
“Damn, girl. You not only stand up to a man holding a gun, you challenge nature, too? You’re tough.” Lexi’s appreciative smile replicated around the room.
“I can take the boots to a private lab in the morning and see what we find.” With years of private investigative experience, Caden held the best contacts for fast, confidential results.
“I went to Horizon Solar yesterday and interviewed Denny’s boss again.” Billy’s oblique hint to Lexi started a flurry of digital searches. “He was cagey at best. I would love to know what he’s hiding.”
Katt opened another window on her computer. “Lexi, can you get me into their mainframe?” She bit her lower lip in concentration.
“Sure, then I’ll check his financials.”
Quiet until now, Kaylee elbowed Caden. “See, hon? I could learn these skills and turn you inside out.”
“Um. No.” Caden plucked her from her seat and deposited her in his lap. “You’re perfect the way you are and your skills in photography have helped out on more than one occasion.”
“You think a coworker or supervisor wanted to sell his work to a competitor and decided to use Denny to do it?” Katt continued to search for anything that would help.
“I don’t see anything irregular in the employee records,” Lexi murmured.
“Maybe they’d worked together then had a falling out,” Billy suggested.
Further discussion failed to illuminate that one detail needed to follow the killer’s trail.
Chapter Twenty
Feeling useless, dejected, and emotionally bankrupt, Katt sat on the sofa, not seeing the movie she’d selected for her and Matt to watch, her earlier determination hijacked by a man with a gun. “Go ahead and say it. Your brothers were thinking it as they left. I’m out of my league.” Gila lay curled in her lap, asleep under the constant petting. The contact provided an elemental if basic comfort, a seed that nurtured her soul.
Matt picked up the remote and switched off the TV. “Anyone could have been sidelined that way. Not only did you not fold under pressure, you had the presence of mind to tell the prick not to shoot the bear and to slowly back away until you could run.”
The warmth of his hand covering hers brought her attention to his face. Instead of pity, she recognized the concentration of a puzzle solver. Whether it entailed her work dilemma or her failed attempt at seduction didn’t matter. It all added up to zero.
“They still don’t think I can do the job.”
“Wrong, and not important now. The question you should consider is this. What do you think? Are you going to throw in the towel because you got sandbagged? It’s your choice, but understand this, if you continue, no matter how good you are, you’ll never see all the evil shits coming at you. No one’s omniscient. You’ve got to learn to roll with it and accept help. It’s one of the reasons my family makes a good team. Either way, my brothers and I will find these bastards.”
She pulled her hand from under his to tuck her hair behind her ear. His touch felt too much like a consolation prize.
“Why don’t you sleep on it? We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“I’m going home. I need to be in my own bed. Since Larry figured we were... together, he won’t look for me at my house. I’ll even park my car out of sight.”
“What? That’s nonsense. Whoever is after you is not going to give up.”
“I doubt they’ll come back. ‘Sides, if they do, I’ll be waiting for them.”
“This is not a good idea. You are not bait.”
“It might be the only way to draw them out. ‘Sides, I know you’ll have someone watching my house.” In pushing to her feet, she knew she was running away, not facing her greatest obstacle—her feelings for Matt. “It’s late. I’ll get a few of my things now and grab the rest tomorrow.” She expected him to follow her up the steps, spin her around, and berate her for foolish behavior.
No quiet footfalls echoed in the periphery of her hearing.
By the time she’d stuffed a few necessities in her backpack and returned to the kitchen, he’d covered several plastic plates of food. “Your cupboards and fridge are bare. Here.”
If he’d sensed her foray into his room to pick up an extra item, he gave no notice.
She reached for the stacked plates, but he set them on the counter. “Come here, Nugget. I need a hug.”
Before she could react, he’d tugged her into the warmth and protection of his arms. There was no other place on earth she’d rather be. With her head on his shoulder and his breath fanning across her hair, the world seemed right, if only for those few heartbeats of time.
When she pulled away, he opened his mouth to speak, but no words emerged to break the odd spell.
“I forgot to thank Ethan for fixing the window in the back door of my house.”
“I’ll send him a message. They know you’ve got a lot on your mind. You sure about this? I’d rather see you stay here.”
“I’m sure. I need to face this. Sooner is better than later. I’m guessing you’ve called the desk sergeant and asked for regular patrols tonight.”
“Nugget, you’re still a target, and until we find out the particulars and locate the asswipes on your
tail, you’re in danger.”
“It won’t end if I’m tucked away.”
“I don’t like you putting yourself out there as a target. We’re not sure who’s employing that backwoods thug. He could very well be a puppet for another company.”
“Again, we won’t find out if I stick my head in the sand. Never done it before and won’t start now.”
“Why don’t you let Damien stay with you tonight?”
The dog’s ears perked up at hearing his name.
“No, thanks. I’m good.” It wasn’t the idea of added protection she rejected. It was the reminder of Matt.
The hesitancy in his gaze bordered on hurt, obscured by the hand he swiped down his face before turning away.
A sinister foreshadowing lingered in the corner of Matt’s mind, equal to the sense of silent foreboding surrounding his truck. Damien sat beside him with his head on Matt’s thigh. The night’s cool breeze sifted through the open window and kept his mind in a constant state of turmoil. “Damn kid’s too stubborn for her own good. She’s not family or a cop, so I can’t make her follow orders.”
Damien whined.
“She’s determined to be reckless just to prove herself, dammit.” The truth of the matter was—she’d already done so. Many times over.
He could’ve convinced her to stay but the cost to her heart and spirit would’ve destroyed them both. To finish what they’d started would rip out their souls and leave nothing more than husks.
Days later, he still imagined her taste on his lips as if he’d just delved within the inferno of Katt. If she made another pass at him, he couldn’t resist if his life depended on it.
He smiled at the thought of her looking out her living room window and seeing his truck parked down the street. “She’s probably cussing a bloody blue streak by now.” He wondered how many repetitions of this scenario would occur before she relented and stayed at his house.
An hour later, a compact car turned onto the quiet street and then into the garage three doors from Katt’s duplex. Shift worker.
Other than that, nothing disrupted nature’s serenade. Quiet times of surveillance provided opportunities for reflection and introspection. Except for two slips, his actions remained appropriate and above board. He’d tried to let her down gently while keeping her at arm’s length, yet she’d stormed his defenses and cut to the center of his spirit, exposing his weakness and taking no prisoners. Even then, he hadn’t scared her off with his overwhelming lust. She’d matched his fervor in equal parts.
Underneath the tough exterior shown to others, she was soft, warm-hearted, and loving. From the time he’d rescued her and his brother’s girlfriend from a twisted psychopath, she’d wormed her way into his heart and tattooed every cell with her sweet smile, an indelible ink he couldn’t erase.
On her side of the duplex, a copse of trees blended into the short but thick section of woods beyond to give the illusion of country living.
Moonlight slipped below the row of maple trees lining the street to darken the night sky. Their rounded canopies formed a scalloped relief worthy of an artist’s brush. Stakeouts were nothing new for him—anymore than watching over a loved one. His brothers had decades of trouble-making experience. The difference came in the form of inflamed nerve endings after exposure of feelings not suitable for the situation.
She didn’t realize how deep she’d embedded herself into his life. She deserved better than an older cop who would demand more than she could give. In counterpoint, if she moved away, she’d rip out his heart and leave him bloody and raw for all time. They’d avoided the topic, yet he knew the tortuous decision lived forefront in her mind.
Like a pervert enjoying his latest infatuation, he shuffled images of a near-naked Katt through his thoughts. Each sharpened to crystal clarity, his imagination focusing on abbreviated details that fast-forwarded until visualizing what lay beneath the borders and evoked emotions not meant to be felt. Not by him, and not for one so far above his status. It seemed all roads led to his demise.
Damien whined and sat up, intent on the woods.
“We’re not chasing deer tonight, buddy. We’re working.” From his vantage point, he’d noted her upstairs bedroom going dark an hour prior. Since her room sat on the back corner on his side, he’d wondered if she peeked out and debated on sneaking out to prank him. It was easy to imagine her attempt to get close enough to let her little monster jump in the truck and startle the shit out him.
Since he wouldn’t be home to receive the normal Morse-code-light-show wake up, he pondered what she might do in its place. Unless he’d ruined that part of their friendship.
Another hour passed, and his eyelids grew heavy until Damien’s warning rumble brought him to full alertness. “Shit, what’s going on, boy?”
The dog’s sharp bark morphed into a soft and constant verbal alarm with his tail up, stiff hackles raised, and a wrinkled nose coinciding with the corners of his mouth showing. Forward posture further detailed his readiness to attack.
“Damien, no.”
The street remained quiet; even the leaves were motionless since the breeze died down. A neighbor’s dog barked, his muffled warning not uncommon even though the tone of its warning had changed.
Absence of normal forest sounds from the adjacent woods signaled the night off kilter. A mix of anticipation and anxiety burned through his chest, a harbinger of encroaching darkness he could neither see nor define. Gut reactions had served him well throughout his career. He reached for the door handle.
No creature, two legged or four, stirred the nearby shadows. Windows of visible houses remained dark and quiet.
A flicker of light on the outside corner of Katt’s house near ground level caught his attention. Like a newly lit candle, it grew. The speed at which it accelerated couldn’t match his heartbeat. Icy hot fear glazed his spine but galvanized him into action.
By the time he’d bolted out of his vehicle, the tiny flames had licked up the back corner of the house. The fucker used an accelerant.
“Stay, Damien.” He prayed the dog obeyed as he powered up the street and leapt onto the porch. One kick to the front door served to remind him of the newly installed deadbolt that matched the one on the rear. He’d insisted on it after the break-in.
Window. He tore off his jacket.
Shards of glass sliced through the material protecting his fist, but the realization of pain was slow to materialize. Quick jabs near the frame knocked out the largest fragments remaining and allowed him to hop over the sill. Several strong shakes sent sharp-edged rubble to the hardwood as he assessed the situation. Smoke poured in through the broken kitchen window. A narrow swath of flame climbed the curtains to reach the bulkhead. He never heard glass break—but it was what probably alerted his dog. The bastard must have taped it.
Jacket sleeves tied around his neck allowed him to cover his lower face and filter thickening smoke as he rushed across the room.
Years ago, statistics showed that lack of synthetic materials allowed homeowners up to fourteen minutes to escape a normal blaze. He estimated less than a handful before flame encompassed the downstairs.
The sound of breaking glassware gave way to crackling and odd pops emanating from the kitchen area. The cabinets were ablaze.
Like many homeowners, Katt kept cleaning supplies under the sink. He expected larger explosions when the hungry flames engulfed the space. Thick, black, smoke poured into the room and up the stairway.
Shoulder straps of her discarded backpack snagged his foot near the base of the first step, sending him sprawling. In the heartbeats it took to disentangle, flame spread like lava over the rest of the kitchen cabinets. Shoving off the second-hand sofa, he’d regained his balance when sudden popping noises caught his attention.
His first thought was gunfire, but there was no need, considering the tactics of the arsonist. The muffled bangs of sugar and carbohydrate-based items didn’t compare to the next mini explosion that hunched his frame as he sh
ot up the stairs three at a time. Smoke thickened with increased altitude.
“Katt!” He reached for the wall switch at the top of the stairs, but no light flooded the area. “Katt!”
A wheezing cough, then a chittering, hissing sound drew him closer to the bedroom.
The stairway t-boned the upper floor with Katt’s bedroom to the left and a short hall, spare bedroom, and bathroom on the right. Fluid, rolling destruction engulfed the back wall of Katt’s bedroom.
The poisonous cocktail of heated gasses stung his eyes and skin, reducing visibility to near zero. If he hadn’t known the layout, confusion causing delay might’ve changed the outcome of his intent.
Absence of carpeting decreased the addition of hydrogen cyanide production, but fine particulates combined with heat clotting the air would coat her respiratory tract. Just as lethal.
Through the bedroom doorway, flames lapped at the dry wall and window curtains along the far wall, spreading outward from the corner of the house.
“Katt!” He stumbled over something in heading toward the bed and realized it was Katt, unconscious and sprawled on the floor. Glass shattered somewhere downstairs as he picked her up and cradled her against his chest. Hunching over, he draped the hanging part of his coat over her face. Gila’s whining intermixed with screams marked his presence tucked against her pajama shirt. If she were conscious, she’d risk her life for the pet. Matt prayed the animal clung tight to its master, knowing she wouldn’t mind a few scratches.
Smoke and dizziness confounded his sense of direction, the heat taking him to his knees. Sweat dripped from his face and dampened his clothes. A wheezing cough drew more of the foul odor into his lungs.
From the top of the steps, he saw flames devouring the couch he’d touched minutes earlier. Flares attacked the scatter rug and up the old wooden banister. The slight discrepancy of their flashpoints qualified as insignificant when they crawled across the floor and blocked his exit.
Flashover, where the entire room burst into an inferno without contact, would occur any minute. He didn’t have time to navigate to the lower level.
McAllister Justice Series Box Set Page 18
