The Billionaire Rescue

by Jenna Brandt

  “I’m sorry about that, but I’m here on business. I was hoping I might be able to get the surveillance footage from your cameras outside. There was a major fire at the apartment building across the street, and we suspect it was arson.”

  The club manager let out a whistle, then gestured for him to come inside. “Wow, that’s a bummer. I don’t make it a policy to give out my footage, but since this is for a Disaster City guy, I guess I could make you a copy. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be back with what you’re asking for. You can take a seat over there.”

  “Thanks.” Christian took a seat in the chair in front of the desk as he anxiously waited for the footage. If he was lucky, the arsonist passed by one of the cameras and didn’t realize they would record him. If the quality was good enough, he could identify him and have the police arrest him. This whole thing could be over by sunup.

  The club manager came back into the room and handed Christian a thumb drive. “Everything from tonight is on there. And don’t forget, you Disaster City guys are welcome here any time. Don’t be a stranger.”

  “I hate to ask this, but is there a back way out of here? There were a couple of women that got a little handsy with me, and I’d prefer to not have to go back through the crowd to get out.”

  “You don’t like the women? That’s okay, I’m not one to judge,” the club manager said with raised eyebrows. “We get all kinds in here.”

  “Wait, no, it’s not that. I’m involved with someone else,” Christian explained, shocking even himself that he was beginning to think of Megan as his girlfriend, and didn’t want anything to do with other women because of it.

  “Oh, okay, well, yeah, of course I have a back exit. I got to sneak a few of my influential patrons in and out, if you know what I mean,” the club manager said as he wagged his bushy eyebrows up and down. “It’s right through here,” he said, opening a door that exited out to the back of the building. “And the name’s Jerry. When you come back, drinks are on me.”

  Christian exited the club, hurrying to get to his SUV where he could plug in the USB drive to his work computer. As he scrolled the footage, he could feel himself holding his breath, waiting for the moment that he could finally put a face to the arsonist who had been terrorizing Megan for the past couple of weeks.

  About two hours after the gala started, a tall man in a hoodie and baseball cap entered the apartment building, carrying a large black duffle bag. Christian fast-forwarded the footage and a half hour later, the man exited, the duffle bag noticeably less full. Christian checked the time stamp the firefighter gave him for the 9-1-1 call from an apartment resident, and the timing was right.

  “Got you,” Christian shouted, so loud that it caused Cinder to sit up in surprise and look around. “Sorry, girl, but we have our guy. Let’s see what he does when he exits the building.”

  Christian continued to watch the footage of the arsonist. Though there was nothing identifiable enough to run facial recognition, the footage did narrow it down to a man with specific features. He was tall, thin, and Caucasian. Granted, in Texas, that could be a lot of men, but it was a start. It also pointed in the direction of Megan’s ex-boyfriend. He’d left the gala by that point, and he fit the basic description of the arsonist.

  Further into the footage, the alarm started to go off and residents streamed out of the apartment building. At the same time, the arsonist was moving down the sidewalk, then crossed the street. Someone who was heading to the club bumped into him, causing him to drop something out of his bag at the corner.

  “What do we have here, Cinder? Our guy dropped something. Could we be so lucky that it will point us in his direction? Let’s get out and see.”

  Christian grabbed his gloves and evidence bag, hoping he was going to need both. They climbed out of the SUV and headed across the street. They made their way to where the item had been dropped. Cinder started to bark, making it clear that whatever was there, was tied to the fire.

  “What do you think we got, girl?” Christian asked as he slipped on his gloves. In the dark, he could barely see what Cinder was fixated on. He bent down to examine the item more closely. It was a white plastic bottle, and as soon as Christian flipped it over, he knew he finally had the piece of evidence he’d been looking for. In big, bold, black letters, the word acetone was scrolled across the center. “The accelerant.”

  With this huge piece of the puzzle, he could look up who sold the acetone locally, check the stores, and hopefully get a hit on the purchase. This could be it. Christian could finally figure out who was behind all of this.

  “Honestly, Dear, I don’t know why you’re protesting. It’s not like you have anywhere else to stay,” her mother pointed out. “I never liked you living on your own, anyway. You’re better off with us here.”

  “I could always stay at a hotel. All my possessions might have burned up, but my trust fund didn’t. I can still afford to take care of myself,” Megan countered.

  “Nonsense, we’re family and you’re staying here at the mansion. Besides, you’re safer here with the bodyguards,” her father argued. “It’s final, so I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

  Megan could tell she wasn’t going to be able to convince her parents that she should be on her own, at least, not tonight. Plus, if she were honest with herself, she was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to fight about it anymore. Besides, she could always work on setting up a different arrangement in a few days if the situation at her parents’ house became more than she could tolerate.

  “Where am I staying?” she asked, glancing around the formal living room and wondered which one of the dozen guest rooms she would be assigned.

  “Your room, of course,” her mother said. “I’m assuming you haven’t forgotten which one is yours.”

  “My room?” Megan repeated, her brows coming together in a furrow of confusion. “Are you telling me you haven’t remodeled it since I left?”

  Her mother shook her head. “I didn’t see a need to. We have plenty of other rooms. Plus, I always hoped you might move home one day, once you realized you belong here.” She picked up her cell phone from the nearby marble table and pushed a button. A few moments later, one of the servants entered the room.

  “What can I do for you, Mrs. Williams?”

  “I’m assuming everything is in order for our daughter’s arrival,” she questioned, as she gestured to Megan who was sitting across from her mother on the opposite sofa, “since I texted you from the car.”

  The young blonde girl nodded. “I prepared everything just like you asked. She has fresh linens on the bed and towels in the bathroom.”

  “Excellent, Rhoda, once you’re finished, you can head home for the night.” Megan’s mother stated dismissively before turning her attention back to her daughter. “As for you, Megan, we’ll see you in the morning for breakfast. Chef Reynolds will have all your favorites ready. I texted him to pick them up on his way to the house.”

  Though her parents had a fleet of servants, kitchen staff, and groundskeepers, none of them stayed on property. Her father valued privacy above all else. His irrational fear of having someone spy on him bordered on paranoia. It was one of the other reasons that Megan had chosen to move out two years ago. She was tired of living under the roof of a control freak that didn’t trust anyone. It was why it was so ironic that they had so many guest rooms; no one ever used them. Her father would put up a guest at a fancy hotel before he ever let them stay in the mansion. Even at work, he kept tight reins on everything that went on there. It’s why it upset him when his security measures failed, and the arsonist was able to burn down two of the family businesses. All of his immense measures he took to protect his family’s legacy, in the end, were threatened by a stranger he couldn’t see or stop.

  “Goodnight, Mom and Dad,” Megan said, before standing up from the sofa. She made her way upstairs and through two sets of hallways before finally arriving at her old room—which was actually the size of a suite a
t a luxury hotel. She pushed the door open and moved inside. Sure enough, her mother had left everything as it had been two years ago. Same Tiffany blue paint on the walls, with white and platinum accents. Her collection of one-of-a-kind music boxes was still in the curio cabinet, along with her collection of tiaras. She picked one up and flipped it back and forth in her hands. How vain was she to have so many frivolous items? Disgusted with herself, she set it back on the shelf and shut the cabinet door.

  Next, she moved over to the closet and opened the door to the massive walk-in closet. All of her clothes were still inside. At least she wouldn’t have to get clothes until she felt like it. The clothes were out of style, but they should still fit. She picked out a set of silk pajamas and slipped them on, then quickly brushed her teeth with the new toothbrush and paste that had been laid out for her in her en-suite bathroom.

  As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was ready to fall asleep and forget all about what happened to her home, even if it was only temporary. Her mind drifted off, filled with thoughts of Christian and his tender touch.

  The following morning, Megan was trying to settle into life back in the mansion. Her mother was hovering, though she wasn’t actually doing anything other than annoying Megan. The servants were constantly asking her if there was anything else she needed. Her father was pumping her for information about the investigation since she had been spending time with Christian the previous night at the gala. After being bombarded by everyone, she retreated to her room in desperate need to have some time to herself. One of the nice things about living on her own, she didn’t have people bothering her all day long. Between all the interruptions, she didn’t have a moment to process what happened to her home, or think about her next steps.

  There was a knock on her door, causing Megan to let out a sigh before she called out, “Yes, what is it?”

  “Miss Williams, you have a guest waiting for you in the formal living room,” Rhoda informed her through the door.

  “Who is it?” Megan asked with apprehension. She wasn’t in the mood to see anyone socially. Answering questions about what was going on wasn’t something she felt like doing.

  “Investigator Perez. He says he has news about the fire last night.”

  Megan sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed, hopeful she might finally get some answers. “Please, let him know I will be down in a few minutes.”

  “Right away, miss,” the servant said, before her footsteps retreated down the hall.

  Megan jumped up and rushed over to her vanity. She glanced in the mirror, checking her appearance. With fast precision, she put on a bit of makeup, combed out her hair, and slipped on a floral dress with matching strappy sandals. It wasn’t exactly her style now, but it couldn’t be helped. It was the best she could do under the circumstances. She was just grateful she had any clothes to wear.

  When Megan reached the formal living room, she could hear her father’s voice from around the corner, causing her to pause before she made her presence known.

  “I know you claim to be here about the fire, but I wouldn’t be doing my job as a father if I didn’t bring up what I saw going on between you and my daughter last night. Do you have romantic feelings for Megan?”

  “I’m not sure if that’s any of your business, Mr. Williams. Whatever is or isn’t going on is between her and I. If you have questions about that, I suggest you take it up with your daughter.”

  “I would, but I know she would just stonewall me, like you’re trying to do.”

  “That isn’t what I’m doing. I just want to be respectful of Megan and not talk about her when she isn’t here. I do, however, understand that you simply want to look out for your daughter. I can tell you this, Mr. Williams, my intentions are honorable with Megan. I care about her and I will do whatever I can to keep her safe.”

  “I appreciate your telling me that, but I’m not sure if that answers my question. I want to know…”

  Megan had had enough of her father giving Christian the third degree. She emerged from around the corner. “Dad, I’ve got it from here.”

  “I’d like to stay and hear what Christian has to say about the fire. He wouldn’t tell me anything until you were present.”

  “Fine, but you have to let me ask the questions,” Megan warned. “It was my apartment that burned down, after all.”

  Her father narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms in anger. When Megan didn’t budge, he finally lifted his palms into the air and shrugged. “Have it your way.”

  Megan turned her attention to Christian. She tried to ignore how good he looked in his DCSR uniform, not wanting to give her father any more ammunition to speculate about their relationship. Cinder was sitting next to him on the floor, contently chewing on her ball. “Did you find anything last night that can help us figure out who the arsonist is?”

  Christian nodded. “I was able to obtain footage from the nightclub across the street. They caught the arsonist on tape. He’s…”

  “Have you made an arrest then?” her father interrupted, unable to help himself.

  Megan’s head swiveled to the side, her eyes narrowing into a disapproving look.

  “No, they haven’t yet. The arsonist was smart enough to wear a hoodie and baseball cap, but we were able to narrow down that he was male, tall, and Caucasian. We couldn’t make out more than that because the quality of the surveillance wasn’t the best…”

  “Then I don’t see how that’s good news,” her father pointed out, interrupting Christian a second time. “Or why you would feel the need to rush over here to tell us that.”

  “Dad, he came here to talk to me, and that’s kind of hard to do with you interrupting him every time he tries to tell us what’s going on. Let him finish for once.”

  “It’s okay, Megan, he’s just worried about you. I get it; I am, too.” Christian reached out and squeezed her hand. “What I haven’t gotten to tell you yet, is that there is some good news about the footage. After he left your apartment building, he dropped something as he walked down the street. Cinder and I were able to locate the item, and it turns out, it was an empty bottle of acetone.”

  “You did? What does that mean?” Megan asked, hoping it might help stop all of this.

  “If he ever handled the bottle without gloves, we’ll be able to pull prints.”

  “What happens if he wore gloves?” Megan asked with concern.

  “The bottle can still lead us to the arsonist. I’m going to use the acetone brand to find out where it’s sold locally and question the stores. If they can describe the arsonist, we can have a sketch made and run it through the database to find him. The lab techs are checking the bottle for prints, while I have one of the junior arson investigators calling the beauty supply and hardware stores. Once I have a list of who carries the brand, I’ll personally go and talk to each one. Additionally, a police detective went by to question your ex-boyfriend, but he said he needed a lawyer present. They’ll be coming down to the police substation tomorrow. The detective and I will be interviewing him, since he fits the basic description and he has a violent history.”

  “Violent history?” her father growled out. “What’s he talking about, Megan?”

  Her eyes darted towards her father. She never told her parents about what happened with Chad, embarrassed that she’d gotten mixed up with him to start with. “I was worried how you would react, but among many other reasons, I ended my relationship with Chad because he got violent with me.”

  “He what?” her father shouted in anger.

  “It was one time, and as soon as it happened, I broke up with him,” Megan explained, terrified of the rage she saw in her father’s eyes.

  “I’m going to ruin him, no, I’m going to kill him, no, I like my first instinct better,” her father barked out. “When I get through with him…”

  “Dad, I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but I handled it,” she stated in a soothing voice as she placed her hand on his arm. “It’s done
now.”

  “Is it? He might be responsible for what’s happening to you. If he is, he’s going to regret ever coming into our lives. There won’t be a place he can hide that I won’t…” Her father’s phone rang, causing him to pull it out of his pocket and look at the screen. “I have to take this, if you’ll both excuse me.”

  Her father exited the room, leaving Megan and Christian alone.

  He moved over and reached out to place his hands on either side of Megan’s arms. “I’m sorry about bringing up your past with Chad. I didn’t know your father was unaware of what happened.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s better that he knows now. I saw the anger in his eyes when I told him what Chad did. He’s never going to pressure me about him again. He would often mention that Chad was still single and how I should give him another chance. He probably liked the idea of us together, since he’s friends with Chad’s father.”

  “I worry about that,” Christian confessed. “Would he ever approve of someone like me? I’m not like Chad.”

  “I know, that’s one of the things I like best about you,” she confessed with a smile.

  “Good, because your feeling that way makes this easier. Since we have nothing left to do but wait, I was hoping you might want to go out with me tonight.”

  “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  Christian pressed his lips together, pausing for a moment before his eyes met hers. “Yes, Megan, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  Megan took a deep breath as she thought about accepting his invitation. On the one hand, she liked the idea of spending time alone with Christian, but she also felt guilty considering going out after her apartment just burned down. “Christian, I’m still reeling from what happened with my home. I wouldn’t be the best company if we went out tonight.”

  “I get that, but just think, sitting around your parents’ house dwelling on what happened isn't going to change anything. It will do you good to go out and let me take your mind off of everything, even if only for a couple of hours.”