by Laura Scott
That side of the car did look more damaged than the driver’s side. Or maybe that was just her imagination spinning out of control.
“Ms. Weston?” Jayme glanced at the police officer coming toward her. “I need your statement.”
Jayme had never spoken to as many cops in her entire life as she had over the past two days. “Of course.”
The cop’s name tag identified him as Officer Hill. He drew her away from the others so they could speak privately. Her statement didn’t take long considering she had been on her way back inside the restaurant to get her purse when the explosion had taken place.
Still, he asked several follow-up questions, repeats of what she’d been asked after earlier incidents. It was tempting to ask Officer Hill to read the other reports, but she managed to refrain.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any idea who is behind all of this.” She glanced over Hill’s shoulder to see Linc heading over to join them. “As I told the previous officers earlier today and yesterday, I don’t have enemies. Marco Edgar is the only person that was upset with me, and that was six years ago.”
“Marco Edgar?” Hill looked excited to have a potential suspect.
“He hasn’t left California,” Linc said, ruthlessly bursting the cop’s bubble. “I’ve looked at two possible arsonists for hire, Terrance Foley and Kevin Leib. Leib is recently on parole and has an address in Nashville. Foley is supposedly living in Memphis.”
Officer Hill wrote the names down. “We can check with the local cops in those areas, see if they have anything on either of these guys.”
“Thanks.” Linc nodded. “I’ve contacted their respective parole officers too. I pray we learn something helpful soon.”
“I need your statement too, Mr. Quade.” Hill glanced at Jayme. “If you’d give us a moment alone?”
She nodded and moved away, knowing by now this was all part of the police routine. They didn’t want witnesses to compare stories.
The cool night breeze picked up, making her shiver. She watched as patrons came out of the restaurant in droves, clearly unwilling to stick around the scene of an explosion, and wondered how much business Sampson’s lost tonight because of the car bomb.
Guilt pressed heavily against the center of her chest. Linc had told her several times that none of this was her fault, yet if she and Linc hadn’t come for dinner tonight, Sampson’s wouldn’t be suffering.
Her hair whipped over her face. As she pushed it back, a flash of movement caught her eye. A figure wearing a black coat and a black stocking hat was leaving the restaurant parking lot on foot.
A customer? Somehow, she didn’t think so. The way he kept his head down made it seem as if he was avoiding eye contact. Remembering what Linc had said about firebugs sticking around to watch a fire burn had her following the guy. She picked up her pace, moving quietly in an effort to get a better look at him.
If she could just see his face . . .
At that exact moment, he turned just enough to glance over his shoulder. She was still too far away to see his features with any clarity, especially in the darkness, but he must have recognized her because he began to run.
Without hesitation, she broke into a run too. “Hey! You! Stop!” she shouted as loud as possible, hoping the cops around the area would notice.
The guy darted around a corner. She sprinted toward it, but when she reached the street, it was too dark to see anything.
He was gone.
“Jayme!” Linc’s panicked shout had her turning around. He was rushing toward her, a wild look in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“No. I lost him.” She reined in her temper with an effort. “I was hoping the police would pick up the chase.”
“Lost who?” He slowed to a stop, his gaze searching hers. “Who were you running after?”
“The man in black.” She put her hands on her hips. “Didn’t you see him?”
“No. I only saw you running, then yelling out.” He looked over her shoulder at the street beyond. “What did he look like?”
“Medium height and build, dressed in black, including a stocking cap on his head. I had the impression he had dark hair beneath, but I could be wrong. I only caught a brief glimpse of his face.”
“What’s going on?” Officer Hill asked as he joined them.
Jayme bit back a flash of impatience as she repeated what she’d seen. At this point, it didn’t matter. The guy was long gone.
“Was the guy older or younger?” Linc asked.
“Maybe in his late forties? Not young, but not that old.” She was convinced the guy in black wasn’t the Preacher. If the Preacher had survived the fire, he’d probably be scarred and disfigured. Likely handicapped in some way too. Hardly in a position to be sprinting away from the scene of a crime. “He was physically fit based on how fast he was moving.”
And how quickly he’d disappeared from sight.
An innocent bystander? A petty crook looking to take advantage of the chaos outside the restaurant? Or the arsonist?
She had no clue.
“Do you need anything else, Officer Hill?” Linc asked. “I’d like to get Ms. Weston someplace safe.”
“That’s fine. Please call the station if you think of anything else,” Hill said.
“We will.” Linc took her hand and walked back toward the section of the parking lot that had streetlights. “I’m calling a rideshare.”
She nodded, battling another wave of guilt. A wave of exhaustion hit hard, and she recognized the adrenaline crash. When the white sedan pulled up, she gratefully climbed inside.
Linc gave the driver the name of a chain hotel, much more upscale than the Shady Lane. The price would be exorbitant, but she couldn’t bring herself to complain.
She wasn’t in the mood to battle cockroaches or bedbugs.
Neither of them spoke as the rideshare driver made his way to the hotel. The traffic was nonexistent, so it didn’t take long. She wanted to request a detour to Linc’s house to get her things but told herself to get over it.
One night without her duffel bag wouldn’t kill her. This was the type of hotel that would offer basic toiletries too.
“We’d like two connecting rooms, please,” Linc told the clerk. He handed over his credit card and ID. “On the first floor if possible.”
“Of course, that won’t be a problem, Mr. Quade.” The cheery clerk quickly entered Linc’s information into the computer, then handed him his ID and credit card back. “Is there anything else you need?”
“A toothbrush,” she and Linc said at the same time. Then they both laughed.
It felt good to laugh, even over something silly. Better than crying.
After they’d each been given their keys, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and a small map to show them to their rooms, they headed down the side hallway. Linc stopped outside the business suite.
“I want you to look at something.” He drew her into the room and powered up the closest computer. After a few minutes, he had the two mug shots of the arson-for-hire suspects on the screen. “Either of these two guys the one you followed?”
She took a moment to bring the brief memory of the man’s face to her mind. It was difficult because it had all happened so fast. “Terrance Foley has lighter hair, I don’t think he was the runner. Kevin is a possibility. His hair is dark, and he’s the approximate age.” She shrugged helplessly. “I just can’t say for sure. And honestly, he may not have been the arsonist.”
“I know.” He clicked out of the photos and shut off the computer. “I’ll rent a car first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll need one to get to get around and to drive to Nashville to visit Kevin’s parole officer on Monday.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if this guy torches that one too?”
“I don’t think he followed us here to the hotel.” Linc rested his hand in the small of her back as they walked down the hall to their side-by-side rooms. “We’ll just have to find a way to stay off his radar.”
&n
bsp; She pulled out her key and unlocked her door. “It’s not like Sevierville is a very large city. Someone determined to find us would start with this type of hotel.”
“I’m not staying at the Shady Lane, and neither are you.” Linc opened his door. “I need you to unlock your side of the connecting door, okay?”
“Okay.” She entered the room, set the toothbrush and toothpaste on the bathroom counter, then went over to open the connecting door. Turning back, she could hardly believe she would be sleeping here.
It was nicer than any place she’d ever stayed in. And that included her house.
“Hey, are you all right?”
She turned to face Linc. “How can I complain about a place like this?”
He frowned. “It’s nothing fancy.”
It was to her, but she let it go. “I—uh, probably should get some sleep. It’s been an incredibly long day.”
“It has. I just wanted to be sure you weren’t hurt when that bomb exploded.” His intense gaze raked over her. “I slammed into you pretty hard.”
“I might have a few bruises, nothing more.” She unconsciously rubbed her scarred hand. “I’m fine.”
“Jayme.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his short blond hair. “Can we talk?”
Weren’t they talking already? But then she realized they were both standing awkwardly near the connecting door. “Sure.” She went over to sit in the chair. He dropped down onto the edge of the bed.
“I’d like you to consider going into a safe house for the next week.”
His blunt statement made her recoil backward in surprise. “What kind of safe house?”
“One that is set up by the local police or maybe even the Feds.” He stared down at his hands before meeting her gaze. “I need you to be safe while I continue investigating these fires. And keeping you with me tonight almost got you killed.”
“Both of us killed,” she corrected.
“But you’re the target, Jayme. I’m just icing on the cake for this guy.” He shifted and added, “I can’t investigate this arsonist as thoroughly as I need to if I’m constantly watching over you.”
Ouch. That stung, more than it should.
“I understand.” She tried to sound positive, despite the fact that she didn’t like the idea. Being pushed off on strangers felt a bit like how she’d moved through the foster system, ending up with the Preacher.
Not that this was the same thing by any stretch of the imagination. She wasn’t paranoid enough to believe that the police or whoever was assigned to protect her would take advantage of the situation.
Still, she knew Linc. Felt comfortable with him. And if she were completely honest with herself, she didn’t want to leave him.
Which was her problem, not his.
“After we pick up the rental car, I’ll make some arrangements for you.” Linc’s smile seemed forced. “The sooner you’re safe, the sooner I can catch this guy.”
“I know.” She lifted her chin. “That’s the most important thing. I appreciate your efforts, Linc.”
“I . . . wish I’d been able to do more.” His dark eyes were mesmerizing to the point she had to force herself to look away. “I won’t fail you, Jayme.”
“I know you won’t.” She rose and edged around him. “Good night, Linc. I’m sure tomorrow will be another busy day.”
“Good night.” He brushed past her on the way to the connecting door. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to reach out and beg him to hold her.
Since when was she so needy? Clingy? Unsettled?
Since never.
Jayme crossed her arms over her chest and waited for Linc to retreat into his room. He left his side of the door open an inch, so she did the same. Then she cleaned up in the bathroom and used the toothbrush and toothpaste before crawling into bed.
Yet despite the soft mattress and plush comforter, she tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable.
Even though she wasn’t a little kid anymore, she still felt much like she had the night before another move to yet another foster home.
Full of worry and dread of what the following day would bring.
Chapter Nine
Linc knew sending Jayme to a safe house was the right thing to do. So why was he having second thoughts? Why did everything inside of him rebel at the idea of dropping her off with strangers and going back to his investigation?
His head was a jumbled mess of emotion, which only proved that putting Jayme in a safe house was the right thing to do. For both of them.
But the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze before she’d agreed ate at him.
After a rough night, he hit the shower and mentally listed the things he needed to accomplish, starting with obtaining a rental car. Normally on Sundays he attended church, but that wouldn’t be possible today.
God would understand and continue to keep him safe.
Jayme too.
When Linc emerged from the bathroom, he smelled coffee. Following his nose, he opened the connecting door between their rooms.
Jayme’s hair was damp from a recent shower. She was curled in the chair, sipping coffee. She didn’t smile, only gave a brief nod. “Good morning. I heard you were up, so I made coffee for you.”
“Thanks.” Her words were nice, but her expression could have been carved from granite. He felt a bit like he was navigating a minefield. “How did you sleep?”
She shrugged. “Strange bed.”
Okay, now he was certain she was upset with him. About the safe house? Last night she’d agreed to go. “Did you change your mind?”
She glanced away. “I wasn’t aware I had that option.”
He set his coffee aside and moved over to sit across from her. “Jayme, you know my only goal here is to keep you safe.”
“I know.” Her blue gaze was somber. “That’s what the social workers always said before moving me from one foster home to the next. Only they hadn’t proved to be safe at all. Especially not when we’d ended up with the Preacher.”
The puzzle pieces clicked into place. “I’m sorry, Jayme. I didn’t intend to make you feel like I was abandoning you.”
“You’re not.” She took another sip of her coffee. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
She wasn’t, and he knew it. Yet he couldn’t figure out a way to keep her with him while he continued investigating these incidents, especially at the rate they were occurring.
This particular assailant was proving to be relentless. And Linc knew the attacks would continue unless he found a way to stop them.
He desperately needed a break in the case. A clue that would help identify who was behind these attacks. And for that, he needed to stay focused, to examine each of the crime scenes for potential links to other known arsonists.
All of which made him steel his resolve. Despite what he secretly wanted, placing Jayme in a safe house was the right thing to do.
“I need to make a few phone calls, then we’ll get something to eat.” He rose. “Give me fifteen minutes or so.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be ready to go when you are.” Her voice was steady. She remained curled up in the chair, looking toward the window that faced the Smoky Mountains.
He hated the way she’d withdrawn from him. The previous camaraderie he’d enjoyed seemed to have vanished.
For good? His gut clenched as he moved into his room.
He secured a rental car first, then made a call to Captain Barstow within the Sevierville Police Department.
“Barstow,” he answered curtly.
“Captain, this is Linc Quade. Did you hear about the car bomb last night at Sampson’s?”
“I did, this creep is escalating faster than we can keep up,” Barstow admitted. “You and Ms. Weston are okay, though, right?”
“We are. But I need your help in getting Ms. Weston into a safe house as soon as possible.” He stared out the hotel room window. “Based on the fact that my SUV was targeted, I think it’s clear she
can’t stay at her house or mine.”
“Where are you now?” Barstow asked.
“A hotel.” He rose and paced the length of the room. “What do you think? Should we keep her here? Are you able to free up a cop to stand outside her door? Or do you have another place we can use?”
“Linc, you know I’d love to help you out as I’ve seen what this joker is doing, but I don’t have the budget to place a uniform on her door twenty-four seven.”
“What if I foot the bill?” Linc figured he could take a second mortgage out on his house if needed. “I don’t want to hire a security guard, I need an actual cop. Someone who knows how a criminal’s mind works. This arsonist is determined to kill her.”
There was a moment of silence before Barstow said, “I’ll give you the names of several guys who are always looking for extra money. You’ll have to pay them directly, though. I can’t get in the middle of this.”
“I would appreciate that. Can you give them my number and ask them to call me ASAP? And as a cop, what do you think about keeping her here or in a house somewhere?”
“There are pros and cons to both,” Barstow said. “The house would be easier to protect from strangers, and to escape from if needed. The hotel is a public place, so there’s no easy way to keep an eye on who is coming or going. But keeping her locked in her room would solve that problem. I assume you aren’t looking to use her as bait to draw this arsonist out of hiding.”
“No!” The suggestion caused his blood pressure to spike. “She’s not bait, and honestly, I can’t keep her locked in a room either.” No way would he make her feel like she was back in the Preacher’s cellar. “I’ll find a house to use temporarily. I think she’ll want to have a way to escape if needed.”
“Okay, I’ll make a few calls. Stay in touch.”
“Thanks, Captain.” Linc glanced at his watch and took a few minutes to look for rental homes available in the area. He found a small cabin nestled in the woods that would be easy to protect.
He went over to knock at the connecting room door. Jayme’s side was still open, so he poked his head in. “Jayme? Will you take a look at this place and let me know what you think?”
