“Hey, guys,” she called, hurrying back outside.
The sight of a gray Honda Accord pulling to a stop at the curb set her heart racing. The men had stopped to stare as well. That was Keith’s car. Erica would recognize it anywhere, but not the woman who stepped from it. Oversize sunglasses covered her eyes, a clip secured her blonde hair in a haphazard twist, and her jeans were strategically torn as was the current trend. The wrinkled T-shirt, with a logo so faded it was unreadable, was a size too large and wrinkled, as if she’d slept in it. Her attention zeroed in on Erica as she exited. Berto blocked her path before she rounded the front of the vehicle.
“Can I help you?” His voice rang out.
She craned her neck to look up at him. “My name is Karen.” She looked Erica’s way. “I’m here to see you. I heard on the news that my brother…” A shudder rippled through her.
Berto didn’t budge. “You’re driving his car. Why?”
Karen snapped her finger toward the vehicle. “That’s my boyfriend’s car.”
He glanced at the license plate, then took a step away and turned. “Plate doesn’t match Keith’s. Sorry. My bad.”
Rapid strides brought Karen forward. The advance unnerved Erica. It was too reminiscent of Keith’s moments when he was pissed about something. Still, she accepted Karen’s outstretched hand.
“Karen Trenton, Keith’s sister. You’re clearly Erica. I recognize you from the picture my brother sent when you were married,” she said as they briefly shook.
“Trenton, not Randall?” Erica asked.
“Married, divorced. But we were trying to reconcile. I heard on the news that he’d been killed. Saw where you lived from a broadcast last night and hurried down here.”
“I would have called you but didn’t have a contact number, much less a name.”
A tear trickled down Karen’s cheek to the tip of her pointed chin. “We’d become estranged. He hated Wayne with a passion. When he learned we were reconciling, it didn’t go over well. He was doing everything he could to come between us. Wayne was furious and came down here to have it out with him. When I heard the news…” She pulled in a shaky breath. “I’m afraid Wayne did something stupid. I’ve been driving all night to get here.”
Someone did something stupid all right, and it wasn’t Wayne. “Keith isn’t dead.” There was no way to cushion the next blow. “The body they found wasn’t his. The man inside had pins in his hip and thigh from a recent injury.”
Oversize sunglasses couldn’t hide the wash of emotions on Karen’s face. From shock to rage to grief in seconds. She crumpled in upon herself. Not fainting but curling into a sobbing ball at Erica’s feet.
“He killed him,” she cried. “He swore he would, and he did.”
Erica squatted next to her. The men edged closer. Karen’s wailing brought Trish running. She jerked to a stop behind Erica.
“You need to talk to the detective handling the case.” Erica fumbled in her purse for her phone and handed it to Trish. “Last number that called me.”
Karen clutched at Erica’s arm, tugging her close. She braced herself to keep from falling into the woman.
“He’s done it before. Hurt men I’ve cared for. I warned Wayne from the start how dangerous Keith could be. What was I thinking? They are both so quick-tempered. I should have realized. I should have never let Wayne leave. Now he’s dead. Just like…” Harder sobs stole her words.
“Detective Posner’s on his way,” Trish said.
He couldn’t get there soon enough. Erica felt guilty for even thinking that way. Karen was clearly upset. Who wouldn’t be, thinking the man she loved was dead? Erica wanted to sympathize with her. Instinct told her not to be hasty, to keep her distance. That might have something to do with the woman’s striking resemblance to Keith. Erica had learned not to trust a word that came out of his mouth. It was more than that, though. Karen’s delivery felt overdramatic. Something screamed duplicity to Erica. She looked behind Karen. Like the car.
The ten minutes it took Posner to get there felt like an eternity. An awkward eternity at that. Karen’s hysterics vaulted to the stratosphere. The others formed a loose semicircle around them. Erica was trapped in her grip. It would be cruel to yank free. Doing so might also alert Karen that Erica wasn’t entirely buying her act. Because it was an act. She was sure of it.
Posner’s arrival gave Erica the excuse she needed. She patted Karen’s fingers and extricated her arm. “I’ll go brief him so you don’t need to go through all this again until you’re calmer.”
Karen nodded, and Erica was out of there. She caught Posner as he left his car. “Keith’s sister,” she said, keeping her back to the house. She gave him the rundown. “No matter what she says, I’d swear that car is Keith’s. I know the license plate doesn’t match, but…“ If only she had proof. A scratch or dent.
“I’ll run the plates, get a VIN for it. If the vehicle identification doesn’t match, we might be able to get a search warrant. Anything else?”
“I don’t trust her. She’s too over-the-top.”
“Or maybe you’re suspicious of anything having to do with your…with Keith Randall. As well you should be.”
Erica shook her head slightly. “It’s more than that. She’s talking about Keith as if they’ve been in contact all this time, said Keith was harassing her and her husband. Yet he’s only spoken of her once to me. For a man like Keith to be seemingly upset about his sister’s relationship with another man and not rant and rave about it at home doesn’t ring true. She’s lying.”
“Or he was, and apparently he did that a lot.”
Very true.
Posner shut his car door. “I’ll see if I can convince her to follow me to the station to give a formal statement to us.”
“Thank you.” Anything to get her out of there. She could already see Erica was moving out. Nothing would prevent her from following her to where she was staying. She didn’t want Karen knowing where Mike lived. Keith would figure it out soon enough. If he hadn’t already. If he cared at all. She snorted. He’d care all right and try his damnedest to use it to his benefit.
She watched Posner calm the woman. His approach was a far less aggressive one than Erica was used to seeing. Of course, if he wanted Karen to follow him, he had to play nice. Everyone had given him privacy to do his job. Finally, Karen nodded and let him help her up. Slow steps took them to her car. Her sobs had subsided into hiccups. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief when they finally drove away, with Karen dutifully following behind him.
“Is it just me, or does anyone think that was bizarre?” Berto asked.
“It’s not just you” came the unanimous reply.
“Let’s get this done.” CJ headed for the house. “The sooner we finish, the sooner I can start researching these people.”
Erica couldn’t agree more.
* * * *
Mike returned home shortly before sunset to a full house. With the exception of CJ, who was so lost in his laptop he didn’t acknowledge Mike walking in, everyone was in the kitchen. He swept his gaze over the rearranged furniture. Erica had moved in today. It was the peace he needed after a long day. Seven o’clock and he was exhausted. The catnaps he’d taken in the last twenty-four hours had run out.
He stood inside the front door, letting comfort seep into his bones. It felt right on so many levels. She belonged here. In his home, in his life, and in his heart. It was time to let her know exactly where he stood.
“Find anything yet?” he asked.
CJ jerked his head up. “Keith’s sister showed up at Erica’s rental today.”
“Posner called me.” Mike sank into the recliner. “They confirmed the body found was Wayne Trenton.”
“And the records I found show he was married to Karen at some point. All I can say is, ‘Another one bites the dust.’ It’s hard to believe two people could have such bad luck. Keith has two deceased wives. Wayne Trenton makes number three for Karen. Always termed s
uicide or an accident. Always with a nice life-insurance payout in their hands.”
It chilled Mike to the bone. Erica was alive because she hadn’t made Keith her beneficiary. He remembered Keith bitching about it.
“Posner said the license plate on the vehicle Karen was driving belongs to a gray Honda Accord owned by Wayne Trenton. He saw the VIN number through the windshield. It doesn’t match Trenton’s car. It matches Keith’s.” It was fairly clear someone had switched the plates. That alone made Karen Trenton a liar. Surely she wasn’t that oblivious.
“She told us that Keith had hurt men she cared about before,” CJ said.
“It’s hard to know how complicit she is in all this right now. But she had to know about the car.” Mike hoped Posner could ferret out the truth fast. He was scared to death something was going to happen to Erica, though he wasn’t sure why Keith would be bothering her at this point. Killing her wouldn’t give him any financial gain. Mike wondered if that was how Wayne Trenton had survived all this time—no life insurance. He and Karen had divorced and were reconciling, according to her. Had that included life insurance?
The doorbell broke through his thoughts. He answered it to discover Craig standing outside.
“I need to talk to you,” his chief said. “All of you.”
“Come on in.” Mike waved him inside. “I’ll get the others.”
While Craig took the recliner, Mike walked into the kitchen. Erica had her kitchen assistants hard at work.
Bub tucked his tongue into the corner of his mouth while he carved radish rosettes with the same intricate detail he used in whittling wood animals.
Berto flashed his knife through a bundle of cilantro for his famous pico de gallo.
Ground hamburger covered Erica’s fingers as she worked the meat into thick patties. Even dirty, she still managed to look irresistible with his Too Hot To Handle apron draped around her. Yeah she was, but Mike relished being close to that particular flame.
“Chief Stanton’s here and says he needs to talk to everyone,” he told them.
That brought work to a screeching halt. Bub and Berto quickly wiped their hands off and headed to the living room.
Erica flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “Welcome home.”
She turned to wash the hamburger off her hands. Mike sidled up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, then kissed the curve of her neck.
“You’re wearing way too many clothes.” He slipped his hands under her shirt.
“No doubt you would have preferred me to greet you wearing the apron only. Without our company, of course.”
His erection flared to life. Mike wedged it against her back. “You know me so well. If we didn’t have a houseful of people, I’d toss you over my shoulder and carry you off to my bedroom for some quick monkey sex.”
“I’m going to hold you to that the second they leave.” She dried her hands on the apron, then tugged his hands away from her breasts. “You’ll note I moved in today.”
“It was a wonderful surprise to come home to.” He hugged her closer.
Erica’s soft sigh sifted into his skin. “Separate bedrooms, separate houses…they’re the same thing to me. I don’t want to be separate. I want to move forward.”
“I want that too.” And so much more. Of all the times to have company. “Come on. Craig’s waiting.” He gave her bottom a light pat. “You go first. I have to adjust things.”
“I’d offer to do that for you”—she smirked—“but I’d probably only make it harder.”
Mike laughed. “No probably about it.” Hot damn he loved her. There wasn’t much he could do other than drag the beast in his trousers to a semicomfortable position behind his fly and follow her into the living room. One look at the despair on Craig’s face took care of his problem. The instant Mike’s ass hit the sofa cushion next to Erica, Craig began.
“Betty checked herself into rehab on Friday. Generally, visitation wouldn’t be allowed at this point, but considering the circumstances, the facility allowed it today. She was afraid to tell me the truth.” He huffed and stared into space. “Didn’t think I’d care. She blamed the grief of losing her mother. Said drinking and pills kept her numb, kept her from thinking. The more she took, the more she needed. She said at first she thought Keith was her friend. He chatted her up, held her hand, and all that. Even helped her get drugs. Then he turned on her. Blackmailed her. Demanded money, or he’d tell everyone about her problem, make sure she lost everything.”
“The withdrawals were for Keith,” Erica said.
Craig nodded. “About two months ago, he demanded much more. Betty refused. She told him to do his worst. Then he did. Sandy was his first victim. Betty didn’t budge, despite his warning it was the first of many things he’d do to people she cared about. She told him she didn’t believe he’d actually done such a thing, since she never heard about Sandy going to the sheriff’s office, and she was fairly certain a woman as strong as Sandy would have done so.”
Another example of how much a person really didn’t know about the other. Sandy had been strong, though—strong enough to try to deal with this without them.
“Then he launched his all-out attack on the rest of us. When Betty heard about the lawsuit, she went to the bank and withdrew the money. She was on her way to meet him when she did a reversal and went to rehab. She used the money in her possession to pay for it.”
“Bastard’s a piece of work, isn’t he?” Bub snorted.
And he was still out there. Somewhere. Ready to do his worst.
“There is one more thing.” Craig scooted to the edge of the recliner. “I’m putting in my retirement papers first thing in the morning. That woman means everything to me, and I’ve taken that for granted. Put the job before her too many times.” He shook his head. “All the time. No more. We’re going to be there for each other from this point on. Nothing’s more important than her and our marriage. Now it’s time to prove that.
“I just wanted you all to know.” Craig clapped his knees and stood.
Erica motioned him down. “Stay. You’ll eat hamburgers with us.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I need to talk to the kids. Once I’m done with that, I’m going to do some serious house cleaning.” He was halfway to the door when he turned around. “Mike, got a preliminary report for me on the arson?”
“From the burn pattern, I’m going with gasoline. There wasn’t a spot he missed. Which certainly explains the ten gallons of gas he bought. I found waxy residue on the mattress. I’d say he used a candle to ignite the fire.” Giving Keith—because there was little doubt in his mind Keith set the fire—ample time to get away before the blaze began. Perhaps even find an alibi for himself.
Craig snorted. “All this time we had a killer in our midst.”
“Make that serial killer.” CJ filled him in on what they’d learned.
The news sagged Craig’s shoulders. “And to think he came highly recommended. Gotta wonder who he was blackmailing at his previous station.”
“Or maybe they would have done anything to get rid of him,” Bub said.
“Yeah…well, someone’s about to get an earful from me. See you all tomorrow.” Craig swung the door open. “Mike, I expect you and Tim to apply for the fire-chief position.” Then he was gone.
Fire chief. Mike wouldn’t turn that job down, and he’d definitely apply. But Tim had seniority, and that’s who he expected would get the job. That’d leave one of the captain positions open. He knew right off the bat he’d pick CJ for that position. He had the years and the demeanor for the job. Moving up an in-house engineer to captain was a logical choice. Keep it in the family. That’d leave an engineer position open and several good candidates among their firefighters.
“Okay, everyone, back to work.” Erica started for the kitchen. “I’m starving. Mike, you’ve got the grill. CJ—”
“Still researching,” he quickly replied. The man abhorred kitchen duty and would do anything to avoid it.<
br />
They all returned to their assignments, locked in their own thoughts. Dinner was the quietest they’d ever had. CJ managed to find birth records for Keith and Karen Randall and death records for their parents. They’d died of asphyxiation during a house fire. Life insurance had gone to their children…of course. Mike pinned the deed on the siblings—their first kill at the ripe old ages of eighteen and nineteen. Then he felt guilty for thinking that way. The fire could have been the trigger—the thing that traumatized them and set them on their killer course.
“I hope to hell Posner can break her.” Berto started collecting their empty plates. “Maybe she’ll give Keith up and we can finally put a stop to their spree.”
“Looks like their motive every time has been life-insurance money,” Bub said. “When blackmail didn’t work.”
“At least now we know why Keith bitched so much about Erica not changing her policy.” CJ shut down his laptop. “I don’t like him being out there, but I feel confident Erica’s safe. Killing her would gain him nothing.”
“No, he’ll only drag out this divorce until the end of time. Demand spousal support.” Erica pushed to her feet and trudged toward the kitchen.
“You need us to stay just in case?” Bub asked.
“We’ll be fine.” Mike stood. “Go home. Get some sleep. I appreciate all you’ve done today.”
“You’d do it for us,” CJ said, getting to his feet, laptop tucked under his arm.
“I would.” Without hesitation. “See you tomorrow. Lock the door when you leave.”
He passed Berto on his way to the kitchen. Erica was already up to her elbows in dish suds. He grabbed a towel to dry.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. He’ll be found.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I’m going to find a lawyer tomorrow.”
“Good idea. The sooner you’re divorced, the sooner we can get married and start making very pretty babies.”
Erica’s movements froze. He tossed the towel onto the counter and turned her to face him so he could look in her eyes and she’d know he meant every word.
Wrapped in Flame Page 15
