by Ben Cass
Ellie thought of something as Kira headed for the door. “Kira? Who’s Theonus? Coach yelled that name out last night, and I heard you say it just now.”
“Nobody, love. You must have heard something incorrectly.”
Ellie heard the evasion in her voice, noticed the slight hesitation in Kira’s movements, and knew she had stumbled onto some big secret. Kira kissed her head and helped her settle back into the covers. “I will come back to check on you soon.” The slender lady rose and walked out gracefully, carrying herself like a queen. Ellie sank down into the pillow, still blushing from the unexpected kiss from Doyle.
If the girls at school only knew, she thought. A kiss from Coach Doyle! Another thought hit her. And I’m in his bed! Her blush deepened. She slipped away into peaceful rest, although she did rest one hand against the cheek Doyle had kissed. She could still feel the warmth of his lips.
Chapter Ten
Jen opened her eyes and found herself in a hospital room. She turned her head to see Doyle sitting in the chair right next to her bed, his head resting on his left hand. He appeared to be sleeping. “Doyle?” she croaked, her voice scratchy.
He looked up and a bright smile crossed his face. “Hey, there. Welcome back.”
Fear flooded through her. “Ellie?”
“She’s fine,” Doyle assured her. “She’s resting at my place and Kira is keeping an eye on her.”
“Kira? Your sister?”
“Yes. She flew in earlier, although I don’t know how she managed to get here so quickly, and seems to have already taken over my house completely. She’s got Elowyn firmly entrenched in my bed. I guess I’ll be using the couch tonight.” He rubbed his temple with his fingers. “Last I saw her, Kira was holding up paint swatches to my walls and muttering about slipcovers and area rugs. This can’t end well for me.”
Despite her headache and sore throat, Jen felt the urge to say something playful in return; Doyle was obviously trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated it. “You’ve got my sixteen-year-old sister sleeping in your bed? We’re going to have to talk about this.”
Doyle leaned in and lowered his voice. “It gets worse. I kissed her on the cheek, too.”
“You didn’t!” Jen coughed from the exclamation.
He hung his head in mock shame. “Afraid so. She might never wash her cheek again.” Jen grinned in agreement; he was probably right.
“How did you happen to be on the other side of town, at that time of night?” she whispered, remembering her surprise at seeing him.
“My dog needed a walk, and woke me up. He’s a very big dog, so when he wants to go, I have two choices: I can take him, or he can make me take him. He likes to go for long walks, so we happened to be passing by your little stretch of acreage when I saw the flames going. I couldn’t stand there and watch, could I?” Jen went to shake her head, but quickly discovered too much movement caused throbbing. His explanation seemed a little off to her, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. She gave up trying for the moment.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked. “My head is killing me.”
“Just a very nasty bump and some smoke inhalation. The doctor said you can probably leave tomorrow. They’re keeping you for observation, given that you bumped your head the other morning, but there don’t seem to be any concerns. They’re pretty sure you’ve somehow managed to avoid a concussion. Oh, and before you can say anything, you’re staying at my place with Kira and me. That’s all there is to it.”
“Is Ellie...all right? Emotionally, I mean?”
Doyle reached out and gently smoothed some strands of her hair back from her face, his fingers lingering ever so slightly before moving down to gently rest on her forearm. “She was torn up when I got there earlier. I think the coincidence of nearly dying the same way her parents did was more than she could handle.” He hastened to explain Ellie’s friend Maddie had told him about her parents’ deaths, thinking he needed to know so he wouldn’t mention them around Ellie. “She also seemed to feel guilty about my getting banged up to save her.”
Jen looked closely at him. “Banged up? How badly?”
He chuckled and shrugged. “Not too badly. She just overreacted.” Jen, however, didn’t buy it. She had seen him grimace slightly when he shrugged, had seen him hold his left side away from the arm of the chair, and his hands clench involuntarily if he moved too quickly. She also saw the hint of dried blood on his right bicep.
“All right, now be honest with me,” she said, intentionally quoting him. Doyle looked into her eyes, which were locked on his.
“Lots of gashes from flying glass and a little bit of bruising,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “I went through worse in the military.”
“I want to see,” said Jen, coughing again. Doyle stood and walked to the sink. He grabbed a plastic cup from the counter and filled it with water. Jen studied him as he stood there. He wasn’t moving as smoothly as he normally did, which told her he was definitely hurt more than he was letting on. Doyle brought the cup over to her, and she gratefully took it and sipped.
Doyle shook his head dismissively. “Nothing to see, I’m afraid.”
“Doyle.” She hoped her tone of voice did not allow for argument, but suspected it sounded more pathetic than authoritative. He paused, obviously trying to find some other excuse. “Don’t even think about it.” She glared, daring him to argue.
“You just want me to take my shirt off, don’t you? Shouldn’t we have a second date first?” he teased. Jen continued glaring at him. Doyle gave in. “All right, all right.” He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, turning around as he did. Jen raised her hand to her mouth in horror. Bandages covered his back; while there were only a few scratches on his chest and stomach, the other side looked like a patchwork quilt. His left side looked horrible, and she wondered how many broken ribs he had. The fresh, unstitched gash down his right arm drew her attention, and Jen felt a stab of guilt in her chest. Her stomach threatened to roil, but she sternly forced it back down.
“Oh, god,” she said, feeling tears in the corners of her eyes. “Doyle...”
“I hope you’re not going to apologize,” he said firmly, carefully easing the shirt back on. “I would not trade any of these little scratches for your life, or for Elowyn’s.” He buttoned up again, struggling to do so at first. Silence fell for a few moments before he shook his head and spoke again. “Since you’re awake, I’m going to head back to my place and see if your sister’s up for the day. I’ll bring her to see you once she’s good to go.”
He leaned over and hesitantly kissed the side of Jen’s mouth, barely brushing her lips, more comforting than romantic. A picture suddenly flashed into her mind, the image of a young man’s face. She couldn’t identify it, but knew it must be from her youth, before her adoption. Another lost memory trying to return? Doyle straightened up, surprise briefly flashing through his eyes, and a slightly guilty expression swept across his face before he winced again. He paused in the doorway, looking back at Jen, and smiled at her. Jen smiled back, but her mind was working furiously to figure out what she had just seen in her head.
TRUE to his word, Doyle brought Ellie by the hospital an hour later, and the sisters had another tearful reunion. Kira waited in the hallway with her brother and stepped in to introduce herself when the time seemed right. As the women spoke, Doyle glanced into the hallway to see Sheriff Bellsley walking towards the room. Doyle quickly stepped out and closed the door before heading down to intercept him.
“Sheriff,” he greeted him. The officer shook his hand.
“Mr. Doyle. Why am I not surprised to see you here?” The sheriff ran his hand across his chin. “Is Jen able to talk?” Doyle glanced over his shoulder once before looking back down at the sheriff.
“Do you bring bad news?”
The sheriff sighed. “I’m afraid so.”
“Then she’s unable to talk.” Bellsley tilted his head up to see Doyle’s face, but didn’t say anythi
ng. Doyle just stared at him. The sheriff seemed about to make a comment but obviously thought better of it.
“Are you two...umm, together?” Bellsley looked uncomfortable, rubbing his head and shuffling his feet slightly.
“No, but I am taking personal responsibility for the well-being of both her and her stepsister,” Doyle said quietly. “Why?”
Bellsley looked into the room and then back up at Doyle. “Never mind,” he said. “I’ll come back when she’s feeling better.” He tipped his hat. “Mr. Doyle.”
Bellsley turned to walk away, but Doyle was not about to let that happen. “Sheriff,” he said calmly. Bellsley turned back around. “What did you need to tell her?”
Bellsley shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s privileged information, Mr. Doyle. You’re not in a relationship with her, so I don’t feel comfortable sharing it with you. There could be legal ramifications, you understand.”
Doyle snorted. “I get the feeling you’re not the kind of person to care about legalities when the lives of your friends are on the line.”
The sheriff studied him for a few moments, and then turned away again. Frustration flashed through Doyle, but he stamped it down. “I wasn’t done, Sheriff,” he said coldly.
Bellsley turned back again. “Son, are you threatening a police officer?” he asked slowly.
“No, I’m telling you this conversation is not over yet. You can take that however you like.” Doyle stepped forward, looking down at the sheriff, who quickly backed up several steps, his hand going to his sidearm. “You pull that gun, and I will disarm you faster than you can blink,” Doyle warned. He held a hand out in what he thought was a calming gesture, but Bellsley drew from his holster and aimed at Doyle.
Doyle’s hands blurred, and before the sheriff could think to react, Doyle held the gun, pointing it at the sheriff. Doyle snorted and, spinning the weapon around, handed it back to Bellsley.
“Please, Sheriff, let me help,” Doyle said, speaking in what he hoped was an apologetic manner. “I promise you, sir, I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m just here to take care of Jen and Elowyn, and I will do everything in my power to make sure they stay safe.”
Bellsley considered him for a moment before shaking his head and holstering his weapon. “I’m sorry, son, but I’m not at liberty to tell you the fire was not an accident.”
Doyle fought down a smile. He’d judged the sheriff’s personality correctly. “Incendiary device, I presume, or some traces of an accelerant.”
“I wouldn’t know it was some weird-ass accelerant, Mr. Doyle.”
“The fire that killed their parents was arson, correct?”
“Yes, it....wait! How did you know about that?” asked Bellsley, surprised.
Doyle waved a hand dismissively. “Elowyn’s friend told me a few days ago her parents died in a house fire and the fire had been set by an arsonist. She wanted me to know so I didn’t accidentally make a comment about Elowyn’s parents. From what Maddie said, things like that don’t happen in Groverton.”
“No. They don’t. Anyway, I can’t tell you my boys found traces of an unknown accelerant under the front porch, just like we did at their parents’ house, or that it was also spread around Jen’s house. No other evidence, no suspects, no possible motive, nothing.”
“Any idea what this accelerant looks like?” Doyle asked.
The sheriff reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tube. “I sure as hell can’t show you what the damned stuff looks like.” He offered it to Doyle, who took it and raised the tube up to his eyes.
The substance inside the tube looked like some variation of mushroom. It was tiny, only a few millimeters wide, and was an odd combination of pink and gray.
Doyle uncapped the tube, held it up to his nose and sniffed. He recapped it, his mouth tightening. This was no unknown accelerant.
The sheriff caught on quicker than Doyle had hoped. “You know what it is, don’t you?” asked the sheriff.
“I do.”
Bellsley gazed at him evenly. “And you’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“I’m not. Let’s just say it’s not something civilians should be familiar with.” Doyle frowned at the tube, staring intently at it. “I haven’t seen it in years, myself.”
Doyle handed substance back to the sheriff, who replaced it in his shirt pocket. “If you had shown me this mysterious unknown accelerant, I would have to tell you that, if you’re going to keep it, you need to store it in a freezer, at a very low temperature. The colder the better. Cold would neutralize its properties.” The sheriff pulled out a small notebook and jotted something down. Doyle asked, “Have you seen any strangers around here recently?”
Bellsley looked pointedly at Doyle, the notebook still open in his hand. “You mean aside from you and those three guys who attacked Jen? No, I haven’t.”
Doyle looked thoughtful. “Are they still in the hospital?” The sheriff gave him an incredulous look. “Right. Dumb question. Let me talk to them, Sheriff. I have a feeling they’re connected to this somehow.”
“Let you talk to them?” Bellsley barked a laugh, but there was no amusement. “The man who nearly killed all of them? Not going to happen. Besides, we already had that thought and questioned them. None of them know anything.”
“Of course they don’t,” Doyle muttered. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, Sheriff. Don’t worry about telling Jen. I’ll take care of it as soon as I can. I’d like her to recover as much as possible first.”
“Fair enough.”
The two men shook hands and the sheriff left, although he did look back at Doyle a time or two. Doyle sat on a chair in the hallway, settling himself so as not to bother his ribs too much, and fell deep into thought. His elbows rested on his knees, and he leaned forward so his chin was on top of his clasped fingers. He stared at the wall across from him, not really seeing the painting on it.
The substance Bellsley had in the tube worried Doyle. He hadn’t seen firetaim in years, and certainly never expected to see it here. Hell, it shouldn’t even be here.
He could feel the vise starting to squeeze his hopes. He sighed, wondering how much longer he could keep doing this. Eventually, the truth had to come out.
At least he knew one thing for sure now. That car hadn’t been a drunk driver. It had definitely aimed for Jen, as he’d suspected. Three attacks, using three very different methods. Somebody was trying to kill Jen Aston, and possibly her stepsister as well.
Unfortunately for that person, they had to go through him first.
Chapter Eleven
After returning from the hospital, Ellie felt lighter than she had in days. Her sister would be released tomorrow, and her own throat no longer felt like there was sandpaper in it. She hadn’t expected that fast of a recovery, but she’d take it.
And to top it all off, she had an amazing new friend in Doyle’s twin sister Kira. Ellie had found Kira was an absolute blast to talk to. Like Jen, she was well-read and would cheerfully talk about a wide variety of interests. Unlike Jen, she was also more than happy to talk about dating and her relationship with her husband, Jerry.
Ellie stood in Doyle’s room, changing into a more comfortable outfit. She and Kira had stopped at the store on the way home to pick up a few outfits for Ellie to wear. Kira had promised to take her out for a longer shopping trip later. They had to buy Jen new things too, after all.
“All dressed?” came Kira’s voice. She had entered the room earlier, but had turned around to give Ellie some privacy. Not like I have anything she hasn’t seen before, thought Ellie wryly.
“I’m done, although you could have looked. I’m not that insecure.”
“That is good to hear. I had some self-esteem issues when I was your age. You have the same frame I had at that age, although I was taller.”
Ellie spun around, surprised. “But you’re so gorgeous! You couldn’t have looked like this!” Ellie indicated her bony frame.
Kira laughed. �
��The few curves I have did not show up until after I was married. Fortunately, I learned how to dress to my advantage many years ago. It is amazing what some discreetly-placed padding and loose-fitting clothing can do for your figure.”
“Got any tips?”
“I would be glad to help you, Elowyn. I just caution you to try not to dwell on your body, dove. You are who you are. Make the most of it.” She came over and fluffed Ellie’s hair, gathering it into a ponytail before letting it go.
“That’s what Jen always says,” grumbled Ellie, crossing her arms. Kira lightly squeezed her shoulders.
“Well, if Jen says it and I say it, then it must be true!” Kira winked. “If you are good, I will take my leave of you for now. I have to go make sure Alistair is not being stupid and hurting himself, although I am fairly certain he is doing both.”
“Alistair?” Ellie was confused. “Who’s Alistair?”
Kira raised an eyebrow. “My brother, of course. Have you never heard his first name?”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess you did say it when we were first talking. I hadn’t really thought about it.” Ellie shook her head. “It just doesn’t sound right when you call him that. Alistair." She rolled the name around on her tongue, trying it out. Actually, she liked it. The name suited him. Unusual and a little mysterious.
Sexy, even.
Kira snorted in a most unladylike fashion, making Ellie giggle. “Well, I am certainly not going to call him Doyle.” She pronounced the name with an audible distaste, as if she was chewing on something disgusting. “Our parents gave him his name for a reason, no matter what he thinks of it.”
