Flashback

by Jill Shalvis

  “And now we’re not. It doesn’t change anything except we’re older, and actually, it’s going to hurt more.” Jaw tight, she shook her head again and looked at the screen. “This first. Blake first. He’s far more important than rehashing old emotions that I don’t really want to have.” She worked the keyboard. “There. He’s not on the schedule there, either, but he called me from the station. I know because it was my birthday, see? And he called me at 6:00 a.m. to catch me before work, but I didn’t have an early morning shoot that day, and I was irritated that he woke me up. I’d been up late the night before celebrating.”

  “With Chad?”

  She swiveled her eyes in his direction. “Actually, Teddy. Teddy White.”

  “Wasn’t he on People’s Most Beautiful list?”

  “How do you know that?”

  He knew it only because someone had stolen the porn out of the station bathroom, and Cristina had left her People magazine in there in its place, and—And Christ. He was crazy. “Never mind.”

  “It was just a one-night thing.”

  Oh, great. Even better. Now he could picture them having one-night sex, and—

  “He’s a friend.”

  A friend, as in someone who’d pulled her out of a fire? Someone who’d bail her out of jail?

  “Yeah,” she said softly. “I realize the word friend is a loose term, especially in Hollywood. Not like here.”

  “Do you miss it? Hollywood?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it and sighed. “I almost said yes, out of habit. The job is fun and the pay is amazing, but…” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s empty. And I didn’t really get that until I was here, either.”

  He tried to sort out his feelings regarding this revealing fact.

  “And, anyway, it no longer matters.” She turned back to the screen. “It’s over.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My soap got cancelled.”

  “It did?”

  “Yeah, and there are auditions for new parts but I’ve been eating too many donuts, so…”

  “So…what?”

  “So I’m going to get fat.”

  He let out a low laugh. “You look great, Kenzie. So great I haven’t been able to keep my hands off you, as you might have noticed. But I’m very sorry about your job.” He couldn’t believe he was going to say this. “You could always stay in Santa Rey.”

  “I thought about it.” She sighed and faced him again. “But staying seems like a comfort thing. You know, like going back to the last place where I was happy. It’s a cop-out. And I was only happy here because of Blake.”

  He held his breath. He’d made her happy, too. Until he hadn’t. “Maybe it was more than that.”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed without giving away her exact feelings on the matter, although he suspected she didn’t know her exact feelings. “I wouldn’t be able to get a job here.”

  “I know they don’t film TV or movies anywhere close, but you could do something other than act.”

  She scoffed, then looked at him with heart-breaking hope. “Like what?”

  “You know what. You could write. And eat all the damn donuts you want.”

  She just looked at him for a long moment, until he nearly squirmed. “What?”

  “I’d have thought you’d be holding open the door for me to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  “Yeah, well, that was the old me.”

  “Well the new me is here to get Blake’s name cleared. That’s it.”

  “And also to stomp on my heart. Don’t forget that part.”

  “I won’t.” She sighed. “Except I’d really rather get out of here without hurting you at all.” With no idea that she’d just stunned him to his core, she leaned in close to see the screen better. A strand of her hair got stuck to the stubble on his jaw. It smelled good.

  She smelled good.

  It was all he could do not to bury his face in the rest of her hair and say things that would lead her back to his bed but not really get them anywhere. In fact, he’d opened his mouth to do just that when she spoke.

  “Look.” She pointed to where Blake had entered another note:

  Not noted in any of the official investigation reports is the fact that the source for the wire mesh trash cans is the hardware store where Tracy works.

  Kenzie frowned and turned her head to look at Aidan, who had gone still in sudden shock. “The Tracy who…”

  “Died.” Aidan managed to find his vocal cords. “Yeah. They dated a couple of times. He really liked her.”

  “Really? He told me he’d gone out with Tracy, but he never said how much he liked her.”

  “Maybe he didn’t tell you everything.”

  “He did,” she insisted. “We told each other everything.”

  “Kenzie, you didn’t tell him when we were going out. Maybe—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “You’re going to say he kept secrets. That he kept the arsons a secret, but he wouldn’t have—He wouldn’t have done this, Aidan. Tracy being killed, well that’s got to be a terrible coincidence.”

  “I’m beginning to believe that nothing’s a coincidence. Look at the next entry.”

  Tracy’s going to get me a list of people who’ve purchased the trash cans, but she has to wait until the weekend when her boss isn’t in.

  The next entry didn’t clear anything up, but made it all worse.

  Got the list, and holy shit. Blood is thicker than water. Got to remember that…

  Kenzie’s fingers dug into Aidan’s arm. “What does that mean, ‘blood is thicker than water’? He’s written that twice now.”

  Aidan frowned and shook his head. “I wish I knew.”

  He’s onto me. Need to be damn careful now.

  “Who’s onto him?” Kenzie stood up and paced the length of the bedroom. “God. Whoever he’s talking about, do you think…?”

  Yeah. Yeah, he did. Blake had gotten himself into hot water with someone. And that someone had either been his partner in crime, or, as Aidan was coming to believe, it was the person whom Blake had been privately, quietly, investigating on his own.

  And if that was true, and Blake had been a victim, then this other person had not only been an arsonist, but also a murderer.

  Aidan’s cell phone chirped with a message that he was needed at work, ASAP.

  “Go,” she murmured. “It’s okay. I’m just going to go through all of this and see what else I can find.”

  “Stay here.”

  Her gaze slid to his.

  “Kenzie…” How to say this without sounding like a complete idiot? There was no way to sugarcoat it, so he decided to just let it out. “I have a bad feeling.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You, the most pragmatic, logical, cool person I know, have a bad feeling?”

  “Go with me on this.”

  “You think I’m in danger,” she said flatly.

  He didn’t just think it, he knew it. Only he couldn’t explain how or why, and that was going to drive him crazy, along with worrying and wondering where she was and if she was okay.

  And safe.

  And alive.

  “Aidan, I’m not going to hole up here. That’s ridiculous. Besides, no one knows what I’m doing.”

  “You were arrested, Kenzie. Everyone knows what you’re doing.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Short of tying her up, which had a most interesting vision popping into his head, what could he do? “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, her hair still crazy from his fingers, her shirt crooked, her feet bare, looking like a hot mess.

  A hot mess he wanted in his life.

  “I thought we weren’t going to do the promise thing,” she said. “Not ever again.”

  “Promise me,” he said again.

  “Don’t worry.” She backed away from him, her face so carefully blank. “I intend to be careful and smart, and I intend to get out of here unsca
thed, on all counts.”

  What the hell did that mean?

  “See you, Aidan.”

  Okay, that was no simple “I’ll see you later.” It seemed like a we’re-done-doing-the-naked-happy-dance see-you. The get-over-me because I’m-over-you see-you.

  Which didn’t bode well for his heart, the one that in spite of himself, had gotten attached. Again. More attached, if that was even possible. “I’ll be back.”

  “Okay.”

  “I will.” He paused. “Will you be here?”

  She met his gaze. “I don’t know.”

  Well, hell. That didn’t bode well.

  15

  IN BETWEEN CALLS, Aidan slipped into the office of the fire station. He’d never spent much time in there, always preferring to be outside or working, or just about anywhere else.

  But he made himself comfortable now. He told whoever gave him a strange look that he was working on his taxes, and given the sympathetic grimaces that got him, it was a genius excuse. Left alone, he went through the daily fire reports and employee schedules, pulling the dates that matched the arsons.

  Which is where he discovered that those schedules did not match the ones Blake had saved on his computer.

  In fact, according to the office reports, Blake had been scheduled on each of the days of the arsons, whether by coincidence or design, Aidan had no idea. Dispatch didn’t always need all available units to go out on the calls. On two of the fires, Blake’s unit hadn’t been called to respond at all and yet he’d been placed on scene by witnesses.

  Had he been the arsonist, or simply trying to stop him?

  The door to the office opened and Aidan turned around, the excuse already on his lips about being late getting his receipts together—

  “Save it,” Tommy said, and dropped a disk on the table.

  “What’s that?”

  “A copy of the surveillance tape I got out of the camera I had at Blake’s place.”

  “You had Blake’s place under surveillance?”

  “I’m an investigator. It’s what I do, investigate.”

  “What were you looking for?”

  “There’s a bigger, better question. What was Kenzie looking for?”

  “I couldn’t tell you.”

  “Couldn’t, or won’t?”

  Aidan didn’t respond to that.

  “You’re doing a shitty job of keeping her out of my hair.”

  Yeah. He was doing a shitty job keeping Kenzie out of his hair as well.

  “Okay, here’s how this is going to work,” Tommy decided. “You’re going to tell me everything you’ve discovered about these arsons and Blake, and in return, I’m not going to charge you with interfering with my investigation.”

  Aidan didn’t care about the underlying threat in Tommy’s voice. What he cared about was discovering the truth. For Blake. For Kenzie. And as big a pain in his ass as Tommy was, Aidan believed them to be on the same side.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  With a nod, Tommy locked the door and pulled up a chair.

  KENZIE HAD NO PROBLEM keeping herself occupied. She spent the day reading Blake’s files, poring over them, analyzing each of her brother’s entries.

  She slept in Aidan’s big, wonderful bed all by herself, which wasn’t nearly as much fun as sleeping next to the big, wonderful man usually in it. Her dreams were wild, vacillating between nightmares about being trapped in a fire and hearing Blake scream for her, and another type of dream entirely. A dream where Aidan slowly stripped her naked and used his tongue on every inch of her body, a dream she woke up from damp with sweat, panting for air, her own hand between her thighs.

  Damn, the man was potent.

  In the morning, she went back to Blake’s Girl. She couldn’t help herself. She stood on the end of the dock staring at the shell that used to be Blake’s sailboat, a huge lump inside her throat, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do next when her cell phone rang. Her local caller.

  “Did you get the backups?”

  “Who is this?”

  “You need to stay away from the boat. There’s nothing there for you.”

  With a gasp, she whirled, searching her immediate area but seeing no one. “Where are you? Are you watching me?”

  “Don’t be scared.”

  The parking lot had only three cars in it, no people. No one was on the docks, and the neighboring boats seemed deserted. “Don’t be scared? Are you crazy?”

  “Listen to me,” he said urgently. “It’s time for you to back off. Time for you to go home, Kenzie.”

  The hair at the back of her neck prickled and she once again turned slowly. Behind one of the three cars was another.

  Gray. Tinted windows.

  Eyes narrowed, she headed toward it, needing to know who the hell she was talking to and why his voice made the hair on her arms stand up, as if she could almost recognize him, but not quite.

  “Don’t come any closer,” he warned.

  She kept walking. “Do I know you?”

  The car’s engine started up.

  “No,” she cried, breaking into a run. “Wait—”

  The gray sedan squealed forward and to the right, giving her only the briefest glimpse of the driver behind the wheel. But it was enough to have her gasp in shock as her chest tightened beyond all bearing.

  The car ripped out of the lot. She hardly even noticed as she hit her knees on the concrete, her hands fanned over her chest to hold her heart in because she’d have sworn, she’d have laid her life on the line, that the driver of that car had been none other than her dead brother.

  Blake.

  SHE SPED ALL THE WAY BACK to Aidan’s house before remembering he was at work. Still shaken, she turned around and headed to the station. Zach was there, standing in the middle of the main room. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and a rueful smile as he stuck a pencil down the cast on his arm.

  “This thing is driving me crazy.” He tossed the pencil to a small desk against a wall. “You looking for Aidan?”

  “Yes.” Because she wanted to tell him her brother wasn’t dead. Or that she was losing her mind. One or the other.

  “He’s on a call.” Zach took a closer look at her and frowned. “Are you okay?”

  No. “I saw the file you put together on the arsons.” The fires had cost Zach his house, which in itself would have given him a good reason to hate her brother. “When Blake died, there wasn’t a body.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “The fire was hot. Nothing survived it.”

  She begged to differ. “Anything survive? Anything at all?”

  “A portion of the shell of the blow torch Blake had been holding, and his hard hat.”

  “But no physical evidence of him?”

  He paused a long moment. “Why?”

  Oh, because maybe he hadn’t really died… “Do you know when Aidan’ll be back?”

  “No, but I can have him call you. He was worried about you.”

  “I’m fine.” She smiled to prove it, but truthfully, she was worried, too. She left the station, got into her car and pulled out her cell. Taking a deep breath, she dialed her mysterious caller’s number.

  “Hello.”

  Kenzie went utterly still at that voice, still disguised, but it didn’t matter. She now knew who she was talking to. “Blake?”

  Click.

  Oh, God. Heart pounding, she drove straight to Tommy Ramirez’s office. He opened his door at her knock, raising a single eyebrow at the sight of her, then simply sighed when she pushed past him and let herself in.

  He had three unopened Red Bulls on his desk. She grabbed one, cracked it open and drank deeply. Eyes closed, she stood there until the caffeine kicked in. “God, I needed that.”

  He shut the door, leaned back against it and just looked at her. “That was my Red Bull.”

  “Thanks for sharing.”

  “You know, most people are afraid of me.”

  “Yes, but most people don’
t know that once upon a time you paid for my dancing lessons.”

  “Keep it down, will you? I don’t want that to get out.”

  She shook her head. “Always the tough guy.” Back when Blake had been in the academy, she and her brother had made some financial mistakes. Lots of financial mistakes. Tommy had known Blake’s situation and had lent him some money to see him through fire school, and Kenzie enough to cover her dance lessons.

  Not many knew the investigator had such a soft side; he didn’t like to show it. He hadn’t shown it to Kenzie since, but she’d never forgotten. Nor had she ever even briefly considered that it could be Tommy framing Blake. Blake had trusted Tommy, and she did, too.

  Tommy tossed the files in his hands to his desk and grabbed one of the remaining Red Bulls. “I put you in jail to keep you safe. I didn’t intend for you to bail yourself out. I wanted to keep you there until this was over, but it’s taking longer than I thought.”

  “You put me in jail to keep me safe?”

  “Trust me, it made sense to me. Look, I know this has been hard on you.”

  “Yes,” she agreed blandly. “It’s been hard on me having my brother blamed for something he didn’t do. It’s been hard on me knowing that all his friends, his coworkers, everyone, believes he committed arson. It’s hard on me knowing that he can’t defend himself. But it’s even harder knowing that you’re not.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Then help me to.”

  He opened his mouth, and then shut it. “I can’t.”

  “Would you like to know what the hardest thing of all is?” she whispered, her throat tight with a sudden need to cry. “I know he’s innocent and I know that you believe it, too.”

  “Kenzie—”

  “You can’t talk about it, I get it. But I think I saw Blake alive. Can you talk about that?”

  He stared at her. “What?”

  “I think I saw him at the docks, in the parking lot.”

  Tommy sank to his chair. “What were you doing at the docks?”

  “Blake. Alive. Did you hear that part?”

  His eyes filled with sympathy. “Kenzie—”

  “No.” She let out a low laugh. “Listen to me. I saw him. Plus someone’s been calling me, giving me clues. It’s him, he—”