Jayme's Journey

by Laura Scott

  Then again, Eli was an ex for a reason.

  As she was drying the last of the dishes, Linc returned to the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Why not? Isn’t that the rule? He who cooks doesn’t clean up the mess?”

  He chuckled, the husky sound curling her toes. Good grief, the man had just told her he wasn’t looking for a relationship, she really needed to get this crazy awareness of him under control. “Yeah, that is the firehouse rule. But we’re not in the firehouse, are we?”

  “Same rules should apply no matter who is cooking.” She wiped her hands on the towel. “Is there something I can do to help you look into Marco Edgar?”

  He hesitated, then gestured for her to follow him into the office. “Have a seat. Give me a minute to see what I can find about the guy online.”

  Watching someone work on the computer was bo—ring. She glanced around his office, but he didn’t have any personal photos on the walls. Probably for the best as he was trying to move on.

  “Is this the guy?”

  She turned and peered at the screen. “Yes, that’s Marco.” He hadn’t aged well, lines creased his features, his gray beard at odds with his dark hair, and he’d gained at least thirty pounds. “Where did you find him?”

  “Social media. Looks like Marco lives the high life in California.” Linc pursed his lips. “Gotta say, though, Sevierville is a long way from LA.”

  “I know.” Jayme shrugged. “I told you it wasn’t likely that he was the one behind this. As mad as he was about the ten grand, he drove a rented Corvette and had a Rolex watch on his wrist. I’m sure he’s moved on by now.”

  “One thing I’ve learned from the cops in town is that those with the most money can be the worst when it comes to being cheap.” Linc tapped the screen. “He’s far away in LA, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t hire someone to lash out at you.”

  “How would he know enough about my past to use fire?” Jayme asked. “And really, what’s in it for him? If anything happens to me, Caitlyn gets the house.”

  “I’m not sure. You’re not living in the same house Remy lived in, right?”

  “No. The house was willed to Remy’s grandkids. They sold it, and trust me, they wouldn’t have sold it to me, even if I could have afforded it, which I couldn’t. Not then. We’ve only been living in the house for the past two years.”

  Linc blew out a sigh. “Yeah, okay, so then I’m not sure why Marco would bother. Still, I’ll keep digging see if I can find anything that might implicate him.”

  She nodded without holding out much hope that his effort would amount to anything. It had been her idea to mention Marco because, honestly, he had been really mad at the time of Remy’s funeral. But seeing his smiling face, she couldn’t imagine the guy bothering to scare her with fire over a measly ten grand.

  Maybe he’d come to realize the money meant the difference between life on the street and having a future for her and Caitlyn. She’d never expected to get anything at all, which had made Remy’s sweet gesture all the more heartwarming.

  She worked her injured hand, massaging the fingers the way Remy had taught her. Her dexterity wasn’t great, but it was better than when she’d met him.

  For a moment, she remembered how painful her hand and wrist had been as she and Caitlyn escaped into the woods. She’d removed her bra and used the soft fabric to bind the burn as they’d stumbled through the woods.

  If they hadn’t stumbled across the caves, Jayme wasn’t sure they’d have survived. Having to sleep in the cellar had been awful, but somehow, living in the caves hadn’t given her the same sense of claustrophobia.

  “Jayme? Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” She stopped massaging her hand and stood. “We should probably go soon. Maybe we can meet with Caitlyn before the clinic opens.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Linc’s gaze went back to the computer screen. “Give me a few more minutes, though. I’m almost finished checking out Marco’s financial history. Seems he’s in debt these days. Lots of people suing him for money.”

  That was interesting, although again, scaring her with fire wasn’t going to bring the ten grand back. Especially since she only had about two thousand in her savings account.

  She pulled out her phone, frowning when there was no response yet from Caitlyn. Her foster sister had recently turned twenty-two and was serious about her schooling and work. Caitlyn had always been finding lost or sick animals, cats, dogs, even the occasional rabbit.

  “Okay, I’m ready.” Linc pushed away from the computer. “Let’s go.”

  Sitting around wasn’t her style. A normal Saturday was spent working at the pantry, then cleaning the house. Sunday was laundry and cooking for the week.

  Only she didn’t need to cook meals for the entire week anymore now that Caitlyn was gone.

  She followed Linc outside to the SUV. “When will you hear something on my car?”

  “I haven’t gotten over to look at it yet.” He glanced at her. “It’s on my list of things to do today.”

  “I can tell I’m holding you back. Maybe you should let me go home for the rest of the day.”

  “You can hang out at my place just as easily.”

  “No, I can’t.” She tried to soften her tone. “Never mind. Do you know where the veterinary clinic is located?”

  “Off Greenland, right?”

  “Yes.” She fell silent, focusing on the vibrant yellows, reds, and oranges of the leaves changing color around them. This was normally her favorite time of the year.

  Linc needed to find this arsonist, very soon. She needed to think about her future now that Caitlyn was out on her own.

  As Linc pulled into the parking lot, she frowned when she didn’t see Caitlyn’s dark gray Honda. After checking her phone, she sighed. “Doesn’t look like she’s here yet.”

  “It’s only quarter to nine.” Linc shut down the car and turned to face her. “Please don’t go home yet. Give me a little more time to see if I can identify this guy.”

  She didn’t want to give in, but she reluctantly nodded. After a few minutes passed, she used her phone to call her sister. But the call went straight to voicemail.

  “Cait? It’s Jayme. Call me ASAP. I’m at the clinic, where are you?”

  “Maybe she’s running late,” Linc offered.

  “Maybe.” But she couldn’t ignore the feeling of dread. When she saw Dr. John Vice get out of his car, she pushed open the car door and ran over to him. “Dr. John? I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Caitlyn.”

  “Oh, she called in sick today. So did Annette.” He frowned. “Thankfully, we have a light schedule or we’d really be in a bind. I have to say, it’s not like your sister to do something like that.”

  Called in sick? He was right, that didn’t sound like Caitlyn or Annette.

  Jayme turned and walked slowly back to Linc’s SUV, the feeling of dread growing worse with every step.

  Had the arsonist turned his attention from Jayme to her younger sister?

  Chapter Five

  Linc noted Jayme’s pale face and knew something wasn’t right. “What happened?”

  “We need to go to Caitlyn and Annette’s apartment right now.” She slammed the door. “Please, hurry.”

  “I need the address.” She rattled it off, and he nodded, familiar with the area. He darted concerned glances at her as they left the parking lot. “I take it your sister isn’t working today?”

  “She and Annette called in sick.” Jayme held on to the door handle with tight scarred fingers. “I’m worried about them.”

  “Maybe they just took off to play hooky?” Linc kept his tone reassuring, even though he was just as tense as she was.

  Jayme released her grip on the door long enough to send a text. He couldn’t read it from this angle, but he noticed the message was in all caps.

  He prayed Caitlyn and Annette were safe. That they had indeed decided to do something fun this weekend rather than working. Bu
t knowing Jayme’s work ethic, he wasn’t necessarily convinced.

  The small apartment building wasn’t far from the veterinary clinic. He barely had the car stopped when Jayme popped out. She raked her gaze over the dozen or so parking spaces, then headed for the door.

  He hurried to catch up. “Do you see her car?”

  “No.” Jayme pulled out her keys and used one to open the front door. Then she bolted up the stairs to the second-floor apartment. Without knocking, she unlocked the apartment door and barged in.

  “Caitlyn? Annette? Are you home?”

  Jayme flew through the apartment in record time, returning with a deep frown. “They’re not here. And Caitlyn’s car is gone, but Annette’s is in the lot. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  “That probably means they’re together in Caitlyn’s car.” He kept his voice as reassuring as possible. “They’re young, Jayme. No reason to assume the worst.”

  Jayme spun around and began looking more closely at the papers strewn around the kitchen table. She picked up a flyer and frowned. “Big weekend of music in Nashville.”

  Didn’t Nashville always have live music? “Maybe a particular favorite of theirs is playing today.”

  Without answering, Jayme spun and disappeared into one of the bedrooms. She returned a few minutes later and sank into one of the kitchen chairs, gazing down at the flyer again. “You might be right about them going to Nashville. Caitlyn’s small pink rolling suitcase is gone.”

  “That’s good news.” He crossed over and rested his hand on her shoulder. “I know it probably doesn’t make you happy that she called off work, but it sounds like Caitlyn and Annette are out having fun.”

  “I raised her better than that,” she muttered. But then she blew out a heavy sigh and lowered her head to her hands. “I thought the arsonist grabbed her.”

  “I know.” He hated feeling so helpless. The sooner he found this particular firebug the better. “I’m sorry you were stressed out.”

  After a long moment, she lifted her head and swiped at her eyes. His heart twisted at the glint of tears. “I won’t relax until she responds to my text messages. Which she better do very soon.”

  He took Jayme’s hand and gently tugged her to her feet. He drew her into his arms for a hug. “She will.”

  To his surprise, Jayme leaned against him. “I’m glad you decided to talk to Caitlyn, or I wouldn’t have known she was gone,” she said in a muffled voice.

  He wanted to point out that Caitlyn was an adult but wisely kept silent. He’d only had Melody for two years, but he clearly remembered how fiercely protective he’d felt toward her.

  Doubtful those feelings would have changed if his daughter had been able to grow up to become a twenty-two-year-old young woman. If anything, he figured he would have reacted worse than Jayme.

  “Do you want to call the police? Ask them to keep an eye out for her car?” He lightly stroked his hand down her back.

  “No.” She sniffled and lifted her head to smile wryly. “I don’t think the arsonist would have allowed her the time to pack a pink suitcase. I’m sure she and Annette are in Nashville having fun.”

  He stared into her blue eyes, then to her mouth. Even as the tiny voice in the back of his mind warned him of the danger, he lowered his head and brushed her lips with his. Her eyes widened in surprise, but then she reached up and drew him down so they could kiss again.

  Sparks flashed as heat sizzled between them. Linc wasn’t sure how it was possible to react so strongly to a woman he barely knew. Especially since he didn’t have room in his heart for anyone but Gina and Melody.

  Jayme’s phone buzzed, intruding on their kiss. She quickly stepped back, grabbing for the phone. Then she sighed in relief. “Caitlyn responded.”

  “Good.” His voice was strained, his breathing irregular from the impact of their brief kiss. He hoped she didn’t notice, glad to note Jayme was intent on texting her sister back. He took the opportunity to pull himself together.

  His attempt to be supportive had backfired. This—whatever had transpired between them—couldn’t happen again. It wouldn’t be fair to lead Jayme on when he had no intention of going down the relationship road.

  “She apologized and said they went to a music festival in Nashville. She said she’d fill me in on all the details when she gets back.” Jayme smiled wanly. “I’m so relieved she and Annette are okay. Thanks for keeping me grounded through this.”

  “You’re welcome.” He edged toward the door. “Let me take you back to my place while I continue my investigation.”

  She hesitated, then tipped her head to the side, looking at him thoughtfully. “Actually, how about you drop me off at the food pantry instead?”

  “The food pantry?” His gut tightened. “Do you need money? I can help you out . . .”

  “No!” Jayme’s cheeks reddened. “I volunteer there on Saturdays. I told them I couldn’t come in, but I don’t want to sit around your house doing nothing. That’s not really my style.”

  “Oh, I should have known.” He called himself all kinds of an idiot for jumping to that conclusion. “I—uh, can do that. If that’s what you really want to do.”

  She locked the apartment door behind them. “I’m sure it’ll be safe enough. It’s not like I’ll be alone.”

  He didn’t love the idea, mostly because the firebug could easily know her regular routine. Then again, he understood her desire to be busy, to do whatever possible to keep her mind off the guy who’d already started two fires.

  And likely wasn’t finished yet.

  He wondered what this particular arsonist wanted. Not just to start fires, but something more personal. It was as if he or she—although most arsonists were men—was actually taunting Jayme.

  “Do you know where the food pantry is?” Jayme’s question pulled him out of his musings.

  “Yeah, the firehouse does a big food drive every Thanksgiving.” He glanced at her. “I’m surprised we didn’t meet before now.”

  She shrugged. “You probably didn’t notice me.”

  He couldn’t imagine that was possible. Granted, he’d been happily married to Gina at the time, but Jayme was incredibly beautiful and surely would have been noticed by the firefighters who were single.

  She opened and closed her right hand. “My scars tend to hold some men back. I’ve gotten used to it, but when seen for the first time . . .” She shrugged. “I’ve noticed it’s off-putting.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” He had trouble believing any guy could be that shallow. “The scars are barely noticeable.”

  She lifted a brow. “You’re being nice, but it’s not necessary. I’ve lived with them for a long time. I’m used to the repulsed looks.”

  “Idiots,” he muttered. The drive to the food pantry took another ten minutes, and when he pulled up in front of the place, he was reluctant to let her go. “Will you call me if you need something?”

  “Uh, sure.” She appeared flustered at the suggestion, no doubt because of their brief yet potent kiss. “Give me your cell number.”

  He recited the information while she plugged it into her phone. Then she called him so that he could add her name and number to his contact list. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

  Jayme hopped out of his vehicle and headed inside. He thought it was honorable of her to spend her Saturday’s volunteering at the food pantry. There was so much about her that he still didn’t know.

  When she disappeared from view, he put the vehicle into gear and headed to the police garage where her Ford Fiesta was waiting.

  He needed to stay focused on figuring out who was behind these fires and why Jayme had been targeted.

  Because he already liked Jayme Weston far too much for his peace of mind.

  She never should have kissed him.

  Jayme enjoyed helping out at the food pantry, but it wasn’t as if the work was difficult. When she’d arrived, Irene had been surprised but had gratefully left her to ta
ke over. Irene was the woman in charge, but Jayme didn’t mind when she’d announced she was leaving. Jayme preferred working alone.

  Yet stocking shelves and helping those who came in for food wasn’t enough to keep her mind from ruminating over what had transpired in Caitlyn’s apartment.

  She’d kissed Linc. Okay, he’d kissed her first, but that brief taste hadn’t been enough. Oh, no, she’d pulled him down and thrown herself at him. As if she’d never been kissed before in her life.

  The poor man had made it clear he wasn’t interested. Had lost his wife and daughter, so she didn’t blame him. She’d always been a loner, had never allowed herself to get close to anyone, except of course to Caitlyn. So why had she acted so out of character?

  No clue.

  Whatever. She needed to find a way to ignore this weird attraction she felt toward him because she had no doubt the man would break her heart.

  If she let him.

  “Anything else?” Jayme smiled at the young woman carrying a toddler on her hip and holding another child by the hand.

  “No, this is fine, thanks.” The woman turned to leave, and Jayme couldn’t help but wish there was more she could do to help the struggling single mother. The same way Remy Edgar had helped her.

  Why not put Caitlyn’s old room to good use? The moment the idea popped into her mind, she felt a surge of excitement.

  Yes, that was the answer. She could pay Remy’s generosity forward by helping someone less fortunate. It was about time she let her younger sister move on with her life. The fact that Caitlyn and Annette had blown off work to attend some fall music festival in Nashville was proof her sister was doing just that. After pushing aside the fear, worry, and yeah, annoyance, Jayme was glad her sister was out having fun.

  Fun had been in short supply over the past thirteen years. At least for Jayme. She’d sheltered Caitlyn from most of the bad stuff whenever possible. Not all of it, after all, Caitlyn had lived with the Preacher too. But Caitlyn had been nine when they’d escaped, compared to Jayme’s sixteen.

  From what Jayme could tell, Caitlyn had been able to repress most of the memories from those awful years. Caitlyn hadn’t been there as long, only two years, which may have helped. Jayme had been there six years, most of the other fosters had come within the next year after her first. At first she’d been thrilled to have other kids living there, thinking their presence would make things better. Only it hadn’t. Instead, the environment had gone from bad to worse. The more kids, the more the Preacher ranted and raved. She’d never understood why he’d brought more kids into his home in the first place. Money, probably, although she felt there was something sick and twisted going on in his mind.