Three Times Burned: A Paranormal Fantasy (Remington Hart Book 3)

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Three Times Burned: A Paranormal Fantasy (Remington Hart Book 3) Page 14

by H. Anne Henry


  It was magical.

  “Beautiful,” I whispered.

  “It really is, isn’t it,” Gabriel agreed.

  We stood in silence for several minutes, just watching the winter storm. It was utterly peaceful, finishing our hot chocolate in the quiet and warmth. I was never more grateful that Gabe isn’t one to fill silence for no reason. The calm gave me a few moments to re-center my thoughts.

  My partner was right: Creed was the one to blame for his part in our troubles, not me.

  I made up my mind not to wallow in misery. Tonight, I would rest. Tomorrow, it would be time to plan.

  Chapter 17

  “I know what we can do!” I shouted as I bolted down the stairs.

  Pale gray light through the front windows lit the lower level of the townhouse, so my rush to find Gabriel wasn’t hampered by trying to figure out how to get the lights on. The couch was empty when I reached the living room and I spared only a brief glance for the view beyond, gorgeous though it was.

  “Gabe?” I called.

  He appeared at the mouth of the kitchen, cup towel hanging over one shoulder and a spatula in his hand. I would’ve found him quicker if I had followed my nose rather than relying on my eyes.

  “In here,” he said. “Everything okay?”

  I hurried over, skidding to a halt on socked feet. “More than okay. I have an idea.”

  He motioned toward a place at the bar. “Sit. Tell me.”

  I perched in one of the tall chairs at the raised granite bar top. It faced the range, so Gabe was able to give me his attention while he flipped pancakes. Which, by the way, smelled like heaven.

  “I want to give my land to the Amasai. There are nearly fifty acres and it’s covered in trees. The best part is, Creed doesn’t know about it, so it’d be a secret. We could build our new headquarters there. Well, I wouldn’t be part of building it, but you know what I mean by we…” I trailed off when I realized I was babbling.

  Pancakes plopped onto a platter as Gabe took them off the griddle. His expression was one of genuine consideration.

  “It’s a great idea,” he told me.

  Turning to the coffeepot, he filled two mugs and fixed mine how I like it.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want to do with it? You’ve been saving that land for a while,” he said as he slid one of the cups of coffee toward me.

  “Exactly. And it’s just sitting there, waiting to be used.” I paused and took a sip. “You always get it right,” I said of the cream and sugar.

  He set the platter of steamy pancakes in front of me, then took another large plate out of the warmer piled high with bacon and eggs. My nose reminded my stomach just how hungry it was, causing it to unleash a ferocious growl.

  “You didn’t do all this for me, did you?” I asked.

  A plate, utensils, and a napkin appeared in front of me, then Gabriel set his own place.

  “It was partially selfish,” he smiled and walked around to the sitting side of the bar top. “I woke up starving since we never stopped to eat yesterday, but I don’t cook like this just for myself and I enjoy it.”

  “It’s no fun cooking for one,” I agreed. “But this is enough for an army.”

  Gabe laughed. “I forgot how far pancake batter will go. Back when I learned to cook, it was for the whole family.” He grew more serious. “You know how it was with my dad after my mom died… So there was a lot of trial and error but I learned.”

  I thanked my lucky stars I had a strong momma who hadn’t collapsed when my dad left. Things hadn’t been easy, but we were always taken care of. I couldn’t imagine losing what amounted to both parents in one blow.

  “I guess we’ve both done what we had to when the rug was pulled out from under us. I’m sorry I brought it up…”

  “You didn’t—there’s nothing to apologize for. I was old enough and had resources, so I have nothing to complain about,” he said.

  I would’ve argued that resources in the form of a great house and more than enough money were no substitutions for parents, but I sensed I’d only be beating a dead horse. It was also my own way not to wallow in the past, so I respected his boundaries.

  Gabe motioned for me to dig in, so I filled my plate with a little of everything. Since I didn’t want to pester him any more about why there were approximately twenty pounds of pancakes for just the two of us, I went back to our needed conversation about a new Amasai HQ.

  “So is it possible,” I asked, slathering butter onto a short stack of pancakes, “to build a new headquarters?”

  “More than possible. There’s only one issue I see.”

  “Money.”

  “Yes. We have some, but not enough.”

  “Maybe if we sell the land HQ is—was—on. It’s a strong market,” I said between bites. “How do you get eggs to melt in your mouth like this?”

  “Butter. Lots of butter,” he smiled. “I think you’re on the right track with the land sale.”

  I hoped I was. Incidentally, I had just come into a sizeable amount of capital with Dylan and Jocelyn buying my paid-off house, which meant between that and what my dad had left me, I was building quite a nice little nest egg. Putting a portion of that toward helping with a new home base for us wasn’t out of the question, but I hadn’t yet decided how much was prudent and didn’t want to be irresponsible.

  No matter what, it would be a team effort. We all had something to put toward rebuilding, and Gabriel’s contribution was obvious.

  “You’ll design it, right?” I asked him.

  He tapped his temple. “I already have a few ideas. In here and on paper.”

  “Of course you do,” I smiled. “Now, we just have to secure a place in the meantime.”

  “Let’s finish breakfast, then we’ll drive out to that warehouse and get the phone number that’s listed on the sign, if the roads aren’t too bad. We can stop by your apartment, too, and get anything you need.”

  I nodded and finished chewing a piece of bacon. “But what time is it?” I asked. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

  “Already had the day off,” he said. “I usually shut the office down and give everybody the week of Christmas off.”

  “That’s really nice of you,” I said, dabbing my lips with a napkin.

  Gabe gave a little shrug. “It’s what’s right. Barring any urgent requests, we don’t have much going on. Might as well let everyone spend time with their families.”

  I drained the last of my coffee and thought about how little we all did life together. We were a tight-knit group and knew a lot about each other, but that was mostly from hanging around headquarters together and the occasional night out. Then again, there wasn’t much ‘life’ to do outside of that.

  “Do you want more coffee?” Gabe asked, interrupting my musing.

  “Yes, but I’ll get it,” I said, hopping down off the bar chair. I didn’t expect him to wait on me hand and foot just because I was a guest in his house. “Do you want more while I’m up?”

  “Please.”

  I went around to the maker and poured us both a fresh cup, leaving his black like he liked it. I set it back down in front of him before going back to the fridge for the creamer.

  “Thanks,” he told me. “When we’re finished here, your clothes from yesterday are hanging up in the laundry room. Not that we’re in a rush or anything, but I thought you might wonder.”

  I sat back down next to him and shook my head. “I don’t want to wait around while there’s stuff that needs doing, you’re right. And thank you—I didn’t even notice they were gone.”

  “I snagged them when I went up to get a shower before you went to bed and washed them with mine. I mean, you can’t just wear my pajama pants around in public,” he grinned.

  “Who says?” I scoffed. “Isn’t pajamas-as-clothes a trend these days?”

  We shared a much-needed laugh, finished our breakfast, and got dressed. No pajama pants.

  The coat closet downstairs wa
s rigged out to store firearms and other weapons, and I had stowed all of mine in there alongside Gabe’s the night before. I retrieved only the forty-five I carried on the regular—silver broadheads and wooden stakes were superfluous in the light of day.

  As Gabriel backed his car out of the garage, we were plunged into a world of frosty white. The roofs, trees, and ground were blanketed in snow right up to the water’s edge. The sky was still a pale gray, the milky smooth winter clouds blocking out the sun. There were darker clouds on the horizon, threatening more of the white stuff.

  “I don’t remember the last time we had a white Christmas,” Gabe commented.

  It was a rare thing to behold. Even more rare to have snow stick around for more than a day. The sub-freezing cold seemed to promise we were in for it this year.

  “Let’s go get my truck. I have a feeling we’ll need the four-wheel drive on the back roads,” I said.

  “I think you’re right.”

  He steered us toward the heart of Dove Creek and it took a little longer than usual to get around. Even so, we were pulling up at my apartment building within five minutes.

  I went to dash to my truck to start it and let it start warming up, then paused.

  “I’ll just run inside for a minute and get a warmer jacket,” I said.

  Gabe undid his seatbelt. “I’ll go with you.”

  Confused for a moment, I started to ask why but answered my own question before it hit the air. Right. Creed knew where I hid my spare key.

  I got out and hurried to the truck, got in, and fired it up. We wouldn’t be gone long, so I left it running and went with my partner up the stairs to my door. My cold fingers fumbled with the key for a few seconds before sliding it home and clicking the bolt free.

  Gabe stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “Let me go first.”

  The protest that was ready on my lips died as soon as I thought about it. He was far more likely to pull the trigger if it came to that. I let go of the knob and backed up enough to let him in front of me.

  Handgun drawn, he eased the door open and kept a wary eye. I put my hand on the grip of my weapon, but didn’t pull it. Staying close to Gabe, I looked around and found nothing wrong.

  Glancing through the living room, I noticed an empty spot on the bookshelf where Creed had kept his books. The blanket he liked for watching movies was missing from the basket. Things he had left behind with the intent of returning for them.

  “He’s long gone,” I said.

  Gabe looked at me sidelong without lowering his gun. “How do you know?”

  “I just do. But we’ll do this your way, to be safe.”

  I followed my partner as he cleared each room, watching his back. Even with my reasonable certainty of Creed’s absence, dropping our guard was a bad idea.

  Our course finished in my bedroom, which was just as well, since my heavier coat was in the back of the closet.

  Gabe slid his Sig back into the shoulder holster and pronounced us to be in the clear before turning to me. “How did you know he was gone?”

  I beckoned for him to follow me as I went to the closet door. Pulling it open, I found what I had expected: An empty space on the rack where Creed’s clothes had hung. It made my point for me, so I simply showed Gabe.

  “That’s how. His things were gone from the living room, and dollars to donuts there’s an empty drawer in the bathroom. He hadn’t taken everything with him when he left—just enough to travel light.”

  In a way, it creeped me out that he had been in my space alone now that were were on opposite sides. But if I were being honest, it made my skin crawl to have been with and so intimately connected my life with someone who would act as Creed had.

  “Everything alright?” Gabe asked. “You look a little disturbed.”

  “You’re right about me moving out of here. Even if it weren’t for safety’s sake, I just don’t want to be in this place anymore.”

  In danger of tearing up again if he kept looking at me with earnest concern, I disappeared into the back of the walk-in closet to switch out my leather jacket for a parka. It was a big-fluffy goose down affair with a faux fur-trimmed hood, the kind of coat that was a once-a -season type thing in Texas. I found matching black gloves in the pocket, but waited to put them on since I still had to deal with locking up.

  I draped the leather jacket over my arm, just in case we ended up seeing action since I couldn’t move like normal dressed like a toasted marshmallow. Gabriel came with me out of my bedroom and to the front door.

  “I won’t need much—just a few clothes to get me by. It won’t take me long to pack later,” I told him.

  “Don’t worry about it. We have all the time you need.”

  I nodded and opened the door to walk outside. After locking things up, I pulled on the hood and gloves and felt much less like scurrying to my truck now that I was properly outfitted for the cold.

  The old diesel was nice and toasty when we climbed inside. I put it in reverse and told Gabe my plans.

  “I think once we get past Christmas I’ll sell all the big things in my apartment to make it easier. I’ll call the landlord, too, and break the lease. He shouldn’t give me too much hassle since he’ll have somebody on a wait list for sure.”

  “That seems a little drastic, selling your stuff,” he said.

  I smiled a little. “Nah, I’m not particularly attached to any of it. I bought all the furniture when I moved in just because it looked good and fit the space. I’d like to do the same when I find somewhere new.”

  “In that case… I was thinking you might’ve been going scorched earth. Anything Creed touched was out.”

  I laughed as I turned off the main highway onto one of the two-lane county roads that ran out to the even smaller community of Summer Valley. The busier, bigger thoroughfares had already been plowed and cleared, but the side roads were still covered in snow, as suspected. I downshifted and took it slow, but the truck handled it well since there was no ice on the surface below.

  The building in question came into view, its roof covered in white but the sides were visible and a sensible khaki color. It was relatively new and had housed only one business that I knew of and all the signage was still there: Sumner Pipeline Co.

  I wondered what had happened to them as I pulled in the drive and stopped at a locked gate. But just as Gabe had said, there was a ‘For Lease’ sign hung on the chain link and a phone number was listed right below the bold lettering.

  Gabriel was already typing the number into his phone when I put the truck in park.

  “It’s mid-morning,” he said, putting it on speaker. “I’ll try calling now and see if I get anyone.”

  I nodded and waited while the other line rang once, twice…

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning. I’m calling in regards to your building that’s for lease,” Gabe said, sounding so polite and professional I doubted he could be denied anything he asked.

  “Why, yes,” the man on the other end of the line perked up considerably. “It’s still available, Mister—?”

  “Wyatt,” Gabe supplied. “When would be a convenient time to have a look inside?”

  The older man chortled. “You one of George Wyatt’s boys?”

  “Yes sir, I am.”

  “Well I’llbedamned. I used to work for George before I started my own business. Name’s Russell Sumner. Tell ya what—I’ve got some time now if you wanna meet there.”

  My partner and I shared an optimistic glance.

  “We’re here since we stopped by to get your number on the sign, but don’t feel obligated to get out in the bad weather, Mr. Sumner.”

  “Naw, it’s no biggie. I live one driveway down. And it’ll give me an excuse to get out of more baking,” he added in an undertone. “Gimme five minutes and I’ll be right there.”

  The call ended and I was astonished by our good luck.

  “Glad you tried,” I said. “Him knowing your dad seems to have helped.”<
br />
  “Give him thirty seconds after he meets you, and I’ll bet he figures out he knew your dad, too.”

  “That wouldn’t be a big surprise,” I smiled.

  We chatted for a few minutes about how big we thought the floor plan might be, based on the outside. Decided on an upper threshold for what we could afford in the Amasai budget for a monthly payment. And by the time we had landed on the yay or nay zone, Russell Sumner was pulling into the driveway next to us.

  He wasn’t in a shiny new truck how most oil business owners were; his was a Ford very similar to what I drove and not far off on the year model. It was even the dull, rusty-hued red that seemed part and parcel for that aged truck, not a glossy fresh coat of paint like Dom had done when he bought his.

  We both left our trucks running when we got out, and Gabriel crossed in front of mine to meet our potential landlord with a handshake.

  “This is my partner, Remi Hart.”

  As the older man offered me his hand, bushy eyebrows lowered. “That wouldn’t be short for Remington, would it? As in McCoy?”

  Gabe flashed a grin and whispered, “Make that ten seconds.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, stifling a giggle. “That’s right.”

  He clapped his hands together. “Well, I’ll be. I remember going into John’s shop not long after you were born and having a good wonder about naming a baby girl after a gun, but he was so proud of you. I’m real sorry he passed.”

  The fond memory he shared brought a smile to my face—not tears to my eyes, for once.

  “Thank you, Mr. Sumner.”

  “Y’all can call me Rusty. Now, let’s get this gate unlocked so we can get out of this cold and take a look around.”

  Once he got things opened up, Gabe and I followed him up the rest of the driveway to a wide overhead door with a smaller metal door inset next to it. After another quick unlock, we went in through the smaller door.

  The space inside was massive and completely clean. Off to the left, there was a wall that divided the building at about the two-thirds point, with a hallway in the middle of it.

 

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