“But as much trouble as I get in, I was a fool to argue.”
“Yes, you were.” He kissed my forehead.
I wished my limbs would stop trembling and shaking and jerking. But they wouldn’t, so I had to deal with it.
“Where did Adams go?”
“He’s looking for Borski.”
Our gazes locked. “He tried to kill me, Riley.”
His eyes softened. “I know, sweetie. I know. But you’re safe now.”
“Only because of you.”
He kissed my hand. “I’ll always keep you safe, Gabby. Always.”
***
So far, I’d been at the hospital for four hours, and I refused to let the doctors admit me to a room to keep me for observation. From what I understood, I’d be able to go home within the hour, but until then I had to stay put. Until then, I remained in my little curtained off room in the ER.
The sounds and smells of the ER caused a rush of bad memories. So many bad memories. Of my mom dying. Of Riley being in a coma. Every beep and blip made my muscles tighten. Every time I inhaled antiseptic cleaner, I felt like I might throw up.
No, I’d be much better off healing somewhere else. Not here.
Talk about a day.
Riley sat beside me.
Part of me felt slightly guilty because I knew he needed to be training. His competition was only a few days away, and he’d been working so hard. But he refused to leave me.
“By the way, I really liked your outfit,” Riley said.
I glanced at him and snickered, wondering when he might bring that up. “I thought I had a certain sense of style that would make the most fashion conscious among us jealous.”
“It was like Eskimo meets bag lady meets Heidi Klum.”
“You know, it’s funny. That was the exact look I was going for.”
He shrugged with a grin. “You know what they say about great minds . . .”
At that moment, Detective Adams appeared through the curtain. “How are you feeling, Gabby?”
“I’m ready to get out of here.”
He smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me. You’ve always been stubborn.”
“I’m just thankful to be alive.” I shivered again. I really had wondered for a moment if that freezer was where I’d die. Thank goodness, Riley had been keeping tabs on me.
Adams paused beside my bed. “I got your voicemail. Next time, leave a location.”
My cheeks warmed. Not one of my best moments. “Will do. Oh, by the way, Borski killed Emma Jean.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You have definitive proof?”
“He locked me in the freezer, didn’t he?”
“Did you see him with your own eyes?”
I scowled. “No.”
“I do have an update.”
I sat up straighter at that announcement. That already made me feel better. “Okay.”
“Greg Borski claims he’s innocent.”
“Doesn’t every criminal?” I rushed.
He raised his hand to slow me down. “He did admit that the company was in the red. He even admitted to having a temper and that Emma Jean had threatened to go public with his less-than-ethical food practices.”
“That should say a lot!”
Adams grimaced. “He also claims he wasn’t at the restaurant today.”
My shoulders tightened. “But his truck was there!”
“He said he dropped it off this morning and met up with a friend. He’s not sure why the backdoor was unlocked. No one was supposed to be working.”
“And you believe him?” Certainly Adams was smarter than that.
“We’re still trying to get in touch with his friend and verify the alibi.”
“Did you arrest him in the meantime?”
He clucked his tongue. “We’re holding him.”
“How much more proof do you need? Does he even have an alibi for the night Emma Jean died? From what I’ve been able to ascertain, she was killed on Tuesday.”
“That’s also what we’ve determined. And, no, Mr. Borski doesn’t have a strong alibi for that evening. He was at the office when she left on Tuesday. He departed about thirty minutes afterward. His employees have verified that.”
He left? Did he follow her and kill her, then return to the restaurant after it closed? “Where did he go?”
“He ran errands.”
“Did he list specific shops?” I knew I was hyper, but I felt like we were on the verge of discovering important information that could potentially change this case.
“He did. We will be checking his bank statements and security cameras at the stores for that time, but it’s going to be a long process.”
I nodded, wishing police work was faster than a speeding bullet. It was more like a slug.
He patted my hand. “So just hold tight. Get some rest tonight. You’ll need it after what you went through today. Maybe by tomorrow afternoon we’ll have an update for you. Okay?”
I nodded again.
“You did good work. As you always do.”
“Thanks, Detective Adams. That means a lot.”
Chapter Twenty
I woke up the next morning, grateful to be alive. To feel my husband’s arms around me. To live in this apartment, surrounded by people who felt like family to me.
I did a quick assessment, wiggling my fingers and toes. As far as I could tell, I was back to normal. I could feel all of my extremities. I could breathe. And Riley’s arms around me kept me warm.
“What are you thinking about?” Riley murmured beside me.
“About how grateful I am for another day. It could have been very different.”
“Yes, it could have been. Please don’t do that to me again.” He pulled me closer.
“I wish I could promise that.”
“But it never quite works out, does it?” Resignation strained his voice.
“No, it doesn’t.” I’d almost been killed more times than I could count at this point. And, as long as I stuck my nose where I shouldn’t, that probably wouldn’t change.
“Anything I can do for you?” He kissed my shoulder.
Heat rushed through me, and I turned around until we faced each other. “You can stay home today. Maybe we just stay here. Both of us. It can be like a staycation.”
He offered a sleepy-eyed grin. “I wish I could. But this isn’t one of those days I can miss work—unless it’s an absolute emergency. I have to be in court in two hours.”
I frowned and let out a slow breath. I studied his face and ran my thumb over his cheekbone, his jaw, his neck. My desire to explore the possibility of staring at those wonderful features all day had been short-lived but strong. “Are you sure?”
“You’re making me less sure by the moment.”
Secret delight rippled through me. “I can keep making you less sure, if you’d like.”
His eyebrows flickered up. “You are very tempting.”
Just as he drew me closer and our lips met, my cell phone rang on my nightstand. I tried to block out the sound. I wanted to ignore it. I really did. But . . .
Riley let out a soft sigh as I rolled away. “You should get that.”
“One minute,” I muttered.
“Take all the time you need. I’ve got to get ready for work.” He climbed out of bed.
I frowned, wishing reality didn’t trump desire. But it did. When I looked at who was calling, my spirits lifted. Detective Adams.
“Gabby, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” he started.
I glanced back at Riley as he disappeared into the bathroom. “No, I was awake.”
“I have an update that I knew you’d want to hear.”
I pushed myself up in bed, tugging my down comforter higher to ward away the morning chill. “Shoot.”
“Greg Borski has an alibi during the time you were locked in the freezer.”
I gave myself a moment to let those words sink in. “What?”
“It’s true. We called the man who picke
d him up yesterday, and he verified they were together.”
“He could be lying.”
“And more than one person saw them at a restaurant they were checking out.”
I pressed my lips together, unwilling to accept his conclusion “But what about during the time when Emma Jean died?”
“Some of my best men were up all night working on this. Borski’s credit card purchases verify that he left the restaurant that evening and did several errands during the time we believe she was killed.”
No, no, no. That was too easy!
“What if someone else was using his card?”
“Security camera footage verifies it was Borski.” Adams paused. “I’m sorry, Gabby. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear. But I assure you that we’re still working this case. The answers are coming slowly, but they’ll come.”
“No crime scene or murder weapon still?”
“No, not yet.”
The crime scene would hold some answers we desperately needed. I could feel it in my bones.
“I appreciate the update,” I told him.
But if Borski wasn’t guilty, who was?
After Riley went to work, I did a couple of errands, including dropping off Lucky, our pet parrot, to have his nails trimmed.
I’d started back to the apartment complex, but the protesters had returned, and I didn’t want to deal with them. Apparently, no one else at the complex did either because the lot was empty.
I knew Sierra was attempting to work at the office today—probably because she wanted to be with her cats. I’d seen Rhonda, leaving with Reef around the same time I’d departed earlier. Bill was at work, and Mrs. Mystery was in Florida.
How quickly those protesters had forgotten about the gunshots that had happened here over the weekend. They must not have gotten the memo that Bill was innocent, either.
Instead of dodging them, I slipped inside The Grounds and ordered a pumpkin spice latte and a pumpkin muffin. I chatted with my friend Sharon, who owned the place, for a few minutes, and then sat at the window to review my notes for an upcoming workshop.
But my mind wasn’t on the workshop. My thoughts were skipping and scampering everywhere but work.
There was still a lot that didn’t make sense. Maybe I was losing my touch, because every angle I examined this from didn’t make sense.
Like why had Borski met with the man who saved Katarina in the parking garage?
Were these protesters truly not connected with Emma Jean’s death?
I wanted this to be neat and tidy, but not all crimes were. There could be more than one thing going on here.
Focus, Gabby. Focus.
I forced myself to focus on the notes in front of me. The next two hours, I concentrated on new lighting techniques. I had to be an expert on these things if I was going to teach other people.
“I was hoping you might be here.”
I looked up and did a double take when I spotted Sarah Babble standing there.
“Sarah . . . what a surprise.”
She sat down across from me, reminding me of a roller derby girl. She wore a fitted baby-blue football jersey with bubble gum makeup that included glossy pink lips and sparkly blue eye shadow.
“I didn’t have your number or I would have called,” she said. “Sorry.”
“How’d you know I was here?” My qualms rose. I’d never told her where I lived.
She opened her mouth and then shut it again, as if she’d been caught. “Truthfully?”
“Yes, please.”
“You told me you were neighbors with Bill McCormick.”
“Correct . . .” That still didn’t explain how she knew where Bill lived.
She frowned. “Emma Jean brought me here once. I figured if you weren’t home, you might be at the coffee shop.”
I was obviously going to have to draw every little detail out of her. “Why did Emma Jean bring you here?”
“She was spying on Bill.”
“Why was she spying on Bill?”
Sarah shrugged and then sighed. “I guess she’s dead now, so it doesn’t do any harm to share. As I mentioned before, Emma Jean liked to dig up dirt on people.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“She was following Bill.”
“Why were you with her? To dig up dirt?”
She nodded. “We were having a mentoring session. She asked if I would ride with her. Then we showed up here. She said her ex-husband was acting suspicious lately, and she was trying to figure out why.”
Apparently, Emma Jean was stalking Katarina and Bill. “Did she figure anything out?”
“She never told me.”
This wasn’t getting me very far. I leaned toward her. “Sarah, did Emma Jean like to do anything besides work, be a mom to AJ, and spy on people?”
She thought about it for a moment. “She started doing yoga.”
I blanched. What was it with everyone doing yoga lately? “She didn’t seem like the type.”
“She said it helped with her anger management issues.”
“I see. And where did she do yoga?”
“The Yoga Tree, I think. I figured if it would help her, then she should go for it.”
I glanced across the street. Was that Riley’s car? When had he gotten home? Maybe he’d come home for a work break before going to do his training tonight. For that matter, maybe I’d go to the gym and watch him this evening. Nothing was sexier than watching him go across adult-sized monkey bars.
I began packing up my stuff, hoping I could catch him. I always had time for Riley. And I hoped that never changed.
“Why’d you find me?” I was still unsettled by her appearance here.
“I remembered that Emma Jean said she felt like she was being followed, but she wasn’t sure.”
“You just remembered that? That seems pretty major.” I finished collecting my things, ready to wrap up this conversation.
“She always had so much drama in her life. It’s a lot to sort through.”
I could see that. “She had no idea whom it might have been?”
“No idea. Not that she told me, at least.”
“Thanks for sharing.” I slung my bag over my shoulder and stood.
Sarah began walking with me toward the apartment.
Just as I crossed the road, an explosion rocked the street. I flew back and hit the ground from the force of it.
When I looked up, I realized my apartment building was ground zero.
Chapter Twenty-One
Shards of debris hit my face, my arms.
I sucked in a breath as I processed what had happened.
Even from twenty yards away, heat hit me. Flames blinded me. Fear pulsated inside.
The apartment building.
My apartment building.
It was on fire.
The top floor was demolished. Flames quickly consumed the rest.
“Are you okay?” I asked Sarah.
She lay sprawled on the ground beside me.
She nodded. “I think so.”
“Call 911.”
I pushed myself to my feet and took off in a sprint toward my home.
Riley was inside.
Riley. A gasp caught in my throat.
I had to help him. He was okay. He had to be. I just had to find him.
My chest ached as my heart pounded into my ribcage. The closer I got, the hotter the air became. Debris still rained around me, along with ashes. I could hardly keep my eyes open as smoke burned them. But I wasn’t turning my back on my husband.
Just as I reached the front stoop, arms wrapped around me and pulled me away from the flames.
“Gabby, it’s okay.”
I froze, but only for a minute. I twirled, needing to match the voice with the face. I needed confirmation. To know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.
My heart turned into a puddle.
“Riley!” I buried myself against him.
He continued to pull me away as more pops
sounded, more debris rained down, and more flames ate away at my home sweet home. We finally stopped right against The Grounds. The windows of the coffee shop had been blown out in the explosion, and the patrons inside milled around looking dazed and off-kilter.
The next thought slammed into my chest, making me lose my breath.
“Sierra. Reef. Chad.” They all ran through my head and rushed from my mouth. I started to jerk away from Riley, but he pulled me back. They’d left . . . right? But what if they hadn’t?
“They’re safe, Gabby. They weren’t at home.”
I buried myself into his arms again. “How did you get out? I thought . . .” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
Riley stroked my back. “I’d just stepped out the backdoor to take the trash to the dumpster. I started talking to our neighbor behind us. It may have saved my life.”
“You weren’t even supposed to be home.” I sniffled, trying to compose myself, but I was having trouble holding myself together. I thought I’d lost everything. Everything. Not just my physical possessions but my heart.
He’d only recently come back into my life. This time as a permanent fixture. I couldn’t lose him.
“I was going to surprise you and make lunch,” he murmured. “I got done with the case early, and I know we’ve both been really busy lately. I wanted to spend some time with you.”
“Well, your timing is awful.” I sniffled again.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” He kissed the top of my head before wrapping his arms tightly around me.
I glanced over, staring at the quickly disappearing remains of our place. The fire was devastating the building. The second and third floors were nearly gone and only a skeletal reminder of what had once been there remained. Orange flames still invaded the downstairs walls
I bit back a cry.
No sooner had I done so than I heard the sirens begin in the distance.
“No one else was inside, right?” I mentally reviewed everyone again. Mrs. Mystery was down in Florida. Bill was at work. Katarina was probably at the spa again, but certainly not here.
Everyone should be safe.
Another thought slammed into my mind. Tim.
What if Tim was inside?
The Grounds became a meeting place for the displaced while firefighters continued to put out the flames. Sharon had given out drinks to everyone there. Sarah was helping her, seeming to do better by keeping herself occupied.
Cunning Attractions: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 12 Page 13
