Just Like Heaven

by Lacey Baker

  Heaven jerked away from Preston so fast she tumbled back a couple of steps. Preston didn’t even reach for her this time. It seemed like the more he reached where she was concerned, the more she pulled back. At least in the area of her personal business, because as far as the desire between them went, she was right on board with him.

  All he had to do was touch her and the heat was ignited. And damn, did he love touching her.

  And yet that wasn’t quite enough for him. He didn’t like that realization.

  “Is Diana okay?” Heaven asked Savannah.

  “That drama queen is just fine. Somebody wiped her face but that dress is ruined. Pity.” Savannah laughed to signify how insincere that last remark was.

  “I didn’t mean it,” Heaven continued.

  Savannah waved her words away. “She deserved it. She’s a bitch and it’s about time somebody told her so. Anyway, the judges are ready to make their decision and Michelle’s about to lose her mind so you two need to stop making out and get in here.”

  With that message delivered Savannah went back inside. Heaven took a step to follow, but Preston wasn’t finished with her yet. He didn’t touch her physically because that would have led to other things. Instead he simply said, “I want to keep you safe. If that’s a bad thing, sue me.”

  It was the truth and then again it wasn’t the full truth. There might have been more Preston wanted to say, but he refrained. Waiting to see how this settled with her was his excuse.

  Heaven looked over her shoulder at him. “Thank you,” she said in a soft voice. “I’ve never had anyone try to protect me before. It’s kind of nice.”

  Well, all right, he thought, stepping forward until he was standing beside her. Preston took her hand in his, giving her what he thought was his best smile.

  “I’m a nice guy, didn’t you hear?”

  “Right,” she added with a smile of her own. “I think I did hear that somewhere.”

  Chapter 18

  She was back at the lab, standing near the countertop a few feet away from her desk. Larengetics Pharmaceuticals was located at the Boston Marine Industrial Park. It was a three-story building that ran the expanse of three to four blocks with executive offices on the top floor and the laboratory on the bottom.

  Heaven’s formal office was on the second floor toward the end of the hallway that led directly downstairs to the lab and was officially used for a fire exit.

  For more than a year she’d been working on a serum named LRG124. One two four was her apartment number, and she’d also assigned it to this serum because it had been late one night, approximately one twenty-four in the morning, when she’d completed the complex formula that would make LRG124—the answer to Alzheimer’s.

  Across the room Moira Lindsey, the lab assistant she’d just hired two months ago, worked on mixing the formula according to Heaven’s notes. Near the door, emptying yesterday’s materials into a biohazard bag, was Lewis Beam, the custodian. Heaven read over her notes on converting the serum into a dry formula that could be condensed into a pill form. It was nearing noon, she knew, because two food trucks had already pulled up and parked in their usual spots across the street. Billows of smoke came from the hamburger truck as they’d already begun preparing for the employees from the building who hadn’t brought their lunches from home.

  Moira liked to listen to music as she worked so one of her classical CDs was playing quietly, casting a sort of dreary mood in the lab. The rustle of things falling into the plastic bag Lewis held wasn’t disruptive—until something fell onto the floor. It sounded like one of the beakers, as glass shattered. Heaven sighed and dropped her pen. She was just about to turn around to see what Lewis had knocked over, and if it was something of importance, when there was another noise, a louder noise that filled the lab with thick black smoke and bright orange sparks.

  From a distance Moira screamed. More glass shattered, more things exploded. Heaven’s chest hurt as she inhaled and coughed in response. Her eyes blurred and she fell to her knees, wondering if her next breath would be her last.

  “Heaven! Heaven, wake up!”

  She was jolted awake by the shaking and probably the yelling as well. Or was it the barking?

  When she opened her eyes, it was to see Savannah sitting on the side of her bed, her own eyes wide with confusion. Then Savannah moved away, taking her hands from Heaven’s shoulder. She lifted Coco and dropped the noisy puppy onto the bed, where she immediately jumped into Heaven’s lap.

  “I’m awake. I’m awake,” Heaven said, absently rubbing Coco’s head as the dog proceeded to lick her face.

  She struggled to sit all the way up, Coco’s rotation of barking and licking mixing comfort with the relief that Savannah had taken her hands off her.

  When Heaven had awakened at the hospital hours after the explosion, there had been police officers all around and one of them had his hands on her shoulders just as Savannah had. Telling Savannah to get off her would have been rude, but Heaven’s heart was hammering and the feel of someone touching her right at this moment would have been just too much.

  “Are you okay?” Savannah asked.

  Heaven nodded, not really able to say the words because it wasn’t totally true.

  “The Smythes heard screaming and came downstairs where I’d just come in with Parker, but we heard you the minute we walked through the door,” Savannah told her.

  And for the first time Heaven noticed how genuinely pretty Savannah was. She wore no makeup and yet her elegantly arched eyebrows and high cheekbones highlighted a vintage beauty. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Parker leaning against the doorjamb. His T-shirt was tight, accentuating his muscled upper body—as was usually the case with him. Just the other day, she’d wondered if his entire wardrobe consisted of well-fitting jeans and even better-fitting T-shirts. If it did she was sure the female population wouldn’t mind one bit. He didn’t speak but raised an eyebrow at her as if to ask if she was okay.

  Licking her dry lips, Heaven nodded in response.

  “I must have had a bad dream,” she said finally. “I’ll just go down and get something to drink. Maybe some hot tea, that normally helps,” she said more to herself than to the people staring at her.

  “What’s going on? I came as soon as—” Preston’s words drifted as he pushed past Parker and entered the room.

  “What happened?” he asked, kneeling onto the other side of the bed until he was right beside her.

  Heaven was shaking her head as Coco bounced over to Preston, sniffing his hands, then resting her head on the bed in front of him. She wanted him to rub behind her ears. Without even looking down at her, Preston did just that.

  “Bad dream,” Heaven said with a sigh. “Not the end of the world.”

  “I could hear her downstairs and so did the guests,” Savannah offered Preston by way of explanation.

  Great, now more people thought she was crazy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb anyone,” she said.

  “Nonsense, what was the nightmare about?” Preston pushed.

  “Nothing. Not a nightmare, just a bad dream,” she corrected him futilely.

  “Same thing,” Savannah tsked.

  And here Heaven thought she was on her side.

  “Come on, Savannah, let’s go make sure the Smythes are okay,” Parker said from the doorway. “We’ll talk later, Pres,” he said to his brother.

  About her, Heaven figured. She knew Parker was a detective. If Preston was so determined to make her believe she was being stalked, he probably had his brother in on the case as well. Only there was no case. She was not being stalked. Well, maybe she was, by these damned dreams that just refused to leave her alone.

  “I’m really sorry,” she said when they were alone.

  She looked down at her hands, her fingers clasping and unclasping. By sheer will she stopped and looked up at Preston. “I hope I didn’t cost you customers.”

  “I wish you would tell me what’s going on,” was P
reston’s instant reply. “I went for a walk after dinner and ended up at the pier. For the last two hours I’ve been down there walking around, staring out at the water and wondering what it was you could possibly be hiding.”

  And if that wasn’t enough to make her want to tell him everything, the sincere look in his brown eyes was. He wore jogging pants and a baggy shirt. Not as enticing an outfit as his twin, but arousing to her just the same.

  She lay back against the pillows, closing her eyes for another second, then inhaling deeply before opening them again.

  “Six months ago there was an explosion at the lab. My lab assistant and the janitor were killed. I survived,” she said simply. But the reality was anything but.

  Preston looked at her like he wasn’t surprised. Except for the twitch in his jaw, there was no reaction from him.

  No turning back now, she told herself.

  “The police investigated me for months because they believed I rigged the explosion since I was the only one to survive. But I didn’t,” she said adamantly. “I would never have done something like that.”

  Preston reached out a hand and cupped her cheek. “You didn’t have to say that last part, Heaven. I know that’s not something you would do.”

  She shook her head. “No. You don’t know that. You couldn’t possibly know because you’ve only known me a couple of weeks.”

  “It’s been a great couple of weeks,” he countered.

  His hand felt so good on her skin—warm, solid, comforting.

  “I haven’t been back to work since that day.”

  “What were you working on?”

  She didn’t hesitate to reply. “A serum that would curb the effects of Alzheimer’s. Larengetics wanted to go to the FDA the first of the year with a viable product. I’d already produced the serum; I just needed to figure out how to condense it into a pill form. I’ve been working on this for the last five years. I was almost there.”

  Her voice shook on those last words, her eyes watering against her will.

  She took a deep breath, let it out slowly while counting backward from ten. Her heartbeat slowed only minutely.

  “I wanted it to work. They wanted it to work. But I didn’t want anybody to die trying to get to that point.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Preston told her, his hand slipping from her cheek to her shoulder, where he kneaded slowly.

  Heaven shook her head again, wisps of hair falling into her face. She tucked them back behind her ears with shaking fingers.

  “It happened so fast. One minute we were working and the next”—she sighed—“everything went wrong.”

  “Do you know how it went wrong?”

  “No. No. That’s the worst part. I just don’t know what happened. Nobody was working with anything combustible so it couldn’t have been anything we did.” She’d gone over the events of that day so many times in her head, every second had been memorized. Heaven knew exactly what Moira was working on and what she was mixing. She herself hadn’t been mixing anything, but writing instead; Lewis had been emptying the trash. It just didn’t make any sense.

  “But it could be what someone else did?” Preston asked slowly as if he thought she hadn’t considered that angle.

  “I don’t know why someone would blow up the lab. It’s not like we were building a nuclear bomb. We were doing a good thing. Why destroy work that would save lives?”

  “Maybe someone out there wants to be the first one to save those lives,” Preston said thoughtfully. “Pharmaceuticals is a highly competitive industry. I’m sure you already know that.”

  Heaven shook her head. “Call me naive, but I’ve always thought it didn’t matter who found the cure first, as long as the cure was found.”

  “Don’t let Quinn hear you say that,” Preston replied with a shake of his head.

  He was still petting Coco, who had apparently grown tired of his touch and crossed over to stand her two front paws on Heaven’s thigh. She looked up expectantly so Heaven rubbed her fingers beneath her chin, giving her a small smile because she’d realized a week or so ago how much of an attention hog Coco could be.

  “Does Quinn have an interest in finding the cure for Alzheimer’s?” she asked a little absently.

  “Before he came back to Sweetland, he was an oncologist heading up a research clinic in Seattle. My dad died of cancer, and we just found out a few weeks ago that my grandmother died of cancer as well. For years he was obsessed with finding a cure, but finally realized that someone else might stake that claim.”

  He’d sounded somber but obviously proud of his brother at the same time.

  “He’s still practicing medicine here in town, right?” she asked.

  “He is, but it’s not the same.”

  “Because he doesn’t have access to the equipment, the labs, and the staff like he did in Seattle,” she stated with a nod of her head.

  As crazy at it might sound to some, Heaven had been thinking about staying in Sweetland. There was so much she had grown to love about this town, but the main reason was that she felt like she belonged here. Still, this was a small town, with no lab or facilities vaguely resembling one. How would she continue her research?

  “Because he’s working at the inn and he’s planning a wedding and he’s tending to every sore throat and broken arm in Sweetland. Which might not seem like there would be many, but you’d be surprised what people in this town can get themselves into.”

  “Sounds like he made a smart career move then. I’m sure he’s still keeping tabs on the cancer research from a distance.”

  Preston shook his head. “I don’t know that he is. But what I’m trying to say to you is that there are alternatives. If you don’t find the cure, someone else will.”

  “I know that. It’s not who will find the cure that I’m worried about, it’s when. I’d like to know that each time I’m making strides toward something important, something worthwhile.”

  Preston shook his head. “I know that feeling,” he told her then cleared his throat. “You said you wanted some tea. I’ll go down and make it for you.”

  Coco let out a little yelp as Preston slipped off the bed. She stood at the edge, wagging her little tail as she stared at his retreat. Heaven sat forward, letting the sheets fall away, and reached for the puppy.

  “Guess we said something he didn’t like,” she told Coco.

  * * *

  “I want you to research her company, Larengetics Pharmaceuticals, and find out what their financial situation is and who their enemies are,” Preston said into his cell phone.

  “I thought your brother was looking into this,” Ryan DelRio, another old college friend of Preston’s said from the other end.

  Preston frowned. “He is, but he’s on medical leave right now. I don’t want him getting into trouble for doing outside investigations. Besides, he said the Boston cop hadn’t responded to his request for information yet.”

  “And you’re tired of waiting?” Ryan asked with a chuckle.

  “I’m damned tired of waiting. Something happened to her in Boston and I want to know what it has to do with what’s going on with her now.”

  “And then what?”

  When Preston didn’t reply right away, Ryan continued.

  “What are you going to do if you find out somebody really is after her? You’re a lawyer, Preston. You know the repercussions of taking the law into your own hands.”

  Preston let out a breath. He did know the repercussions, very well, in fact. He also knew that there was no way he was going to sit back and let anything happen to Heaven. Clenching the fingers of his free hand, he made a silent vow to do whatever was necessary to protect her, even as he spoke.

  “That’s why I’m calling you. You’re FBI, you can look into this and get me faster answers.”

  “And I could also have my supervisor breathing down my neck about why I’m working on something that doesn’t have to do with any open cases on our list.”

  “There
might be some FDA violations, that’s federal jurisdiction for you. You can act on a suspicion,” Preston suggested.

  “I can, if I have a viable reason for suspicion. Do I have that?” Ryan asked.

  Ryan was a stickler for the rules. He’d come from a hard life and swore that he’d make something of himself, something honest and good despite his upbringing. Preston respected that. He also knew for a fact that Ryan loved women, above all else, including food. And if he ever thought one was in danger, he’d shoot first and ask questions later.

  “Someone tried to run her down. She’s having nightmares about an explosion that killed everyone in the lab except her. And she was questioned by the police as a suspect.”

  “Did she do it?”

  “Don’t ask me that,” Preston replied quickly. “If I thought for a minute that she was guilty, I wouldn’t be on this phone with you.”

  Ryan sighed. “I know, I’m just trying to make sure you know what you’re getting into. I mean, you sound like this woman means an awful lot to you.”

  Offense came swiftly. Preston was getting damned tired of people discounting him when it came to women. “Is that a problem? I can’t care about a woman?”

  “Whoa, whoa, calm down, counselor. That’s not what I’m saying. But I will state a few facts for you just in case you’ve forgotten.”

  Preston squeezed the bridge of his nose, knowing this wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

  “You are the love-’em-and-leave-’em type of guy. You pick the pretty and intelligent ones, wine and dine them, then bed and good-bye them without bothering to find out their last name.”

  “And what’s your point?” he asked bitterly.

  Ryan chuckled. “You know what my point is. I’m guessing, though, that this is a serious situation, one you haven’t quite figured out yet. So I’ll leave all the serious-relationship stuff alone, because unlike you I’m not in denial about the type of man I am. And since I’m the FBI in this friendship, I’ll do my thing and get back to you.”

  “Thank you. Can you do your thing in a speedy fashion?” Preston asked just as the teakettle started to whistle.