“Do you think Lewis was trying to find arson where others missed it in this case?” Declan asked, holding up a file.
“There was nothing else going on at the time to support arson,” Connor said. “No suspects, no one unexpected at the scene, and no pattern of any other fires purposely set in the whole county at the time.”
“I know,” Braden said. “But I managed to get my hands on his notes when I wrote that paper, which aren’t in the files. He made a pretty compelling argument that there was a lighter fluid spray in the burn pattern on the sunroom wall that was adjacent to the patio. Either somebody accidentally squirted the fluid all over the wall, or it could have been used as an accelerant to start the fire and the rags combusted from the heat of the flames.”
A low-grade hum rolled through Declan’s whole body. “And they…” He looked down at the report, seeing nothing—not a word—about that. “Ignored that?”
“They ignored Kirby Lewis,” Braden said. “But I will say, they had canines in there the next day, and they did find the lighter fluid, but since the fire burned outside because of the chemical rags and inside near a desk with a bunch of lighters, they couldn’t say with certainty that the lighter fluid was the cause. And the rags clearly combusted, so the most obvious conclusion was that they started the fire.”
Obvious to everyone but Kirby Lewis.
“And no one else questioned the veracity of this investigation,” Connor added. “It went on for months, was extremely thorough, and followed every protocol. That’s why it hasn’t haunted me.”
But it sure as hell was haunting Declan, especially now as he read the report. “Any chance you could get this guy back on the grid so I can talk to him, Braden?” he asked.
“Depends on how he feels about the case, I guess. I can try. Let me see if I can scare up some intelligence on his whereabouts.”
Connor turned a page of the file he held, nodding as he read. “This lighter fluid as possible accelerant is interesting, but the only fingerprints on the can they found were Max’s, who handled the lighters all the time. Your eccentric arson investigator was soundly overruled.”
“All the more reason to talk to him,” Declan said.
Connor closed the file. “You sure you want to open that can of worms?”
Declan choked. “You’re kidding, right? Our father died in this fire.”
“If it was a mistake with the chemical rags, it’s Evie’s mother who carries that,” Connor said. “But if it was set by someone spraying lighter fluid? Then you’re essentially accusing someone living in the house of arson and, technically, homicide. Twenty years after the case was closed.” He stared at Declan as that sank in. “You sure you want to go there, bro?”
Good God, did he? How far back would that set him with Evie?
Connor slid the file back in a box. “It seems to me that you two have enough obstacles to overcome without looking for some made-up ones.”
Were they made up? Declan looked at Braden. “What do you think?”
“I have a lot of respect for Kirby Lewis, and I have always thought there might be more to this fire than some mishandled rags. But if you look really close, Dec, you’ll see a subtext in that file.”
“That says…”
“Dad broke protocol,” he said softly. “We have no idea why, and we’ll never know. But if you’re looking to place blame, there’s plenty for our family as well as Evie’s.”
“I’m not looking to place blame,” he said. “I’m trying to get closure.”
Connor huffed a sigh.
“What?” Dec asked, standing up to challenge his brother with a harsh look. “Is that so wrong?”
“Declan.” Braden, ever the peacemaker between his two older brothers, put his hand on Declan’s shoulder. “That fire…” He glanced at the file boxes, then back to Declan. “Makes you disappear. And as far as we’re concerned, we lost enough that night.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, looking from one to the other. They had different ways of showing their love, but he respected them both enormously, as men and as firefighters. And he loved them as the true brothers they were. “It seems I owe a lot of people apologies for how I’ve acted for twenty years.”
“Nah. Yeah, maybe.” Connor laughed easily. “We don’t hold grudges, Big D.”
Braden lifted his brow in question. “So. Kirby Lewis? Yes or no?”
Declan didn’t really have to think about it. “Yes. I’d like to talk to him.”
He wasn’t manufacturing obstacles, he told himself. He was trying to get rid of them. He had to face everything about the fire if he was ever going to escape the hold it had on him. Until he was free of that, he couldn’t be all he wanted to be for Evie.
Or was he, as his sister suggested, looking for ways to sabotage this relationship?
Damn it. Did his whole damn family know him better than he knew himself?
Chapter Fourteen
Evie was wiped out by late Friday afternoon. In addition to taking Judah in for his pre-op appointment, she’d ended up spending the better part of two days at Molly’s office, seeing patients from as far away as Holly Hills and Chestnut Creek. Today, in between painstakingly cleaning the chandelier, she’d studied up on the CVS procedure, watching videos from around the world, including one of her performing the surgery on a Great Dane about five years ago.
Was that the last time she’d done the procedure? She wasn’t sure, but she felt ready. And now, it was time to give Judah his last meal before the surgery in the morning. After she finished up with Granddaddy’s dinner, she brought Judah down the front stairs, which he navigated easier than the back, for the chicken feast she’d prepared.
“You have to eat well tonight,” she told him. “You have a very big day tomorrow.”
But as she headed into the kitchen, a tap at the front door stopped her, and the silhouette that was becoming pretty familiar thrilled her.
That thrill only deepened when she opened the door to Declan.
“Hello,” she said slyly, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing her arms. Her gaze dropped over the blue button-down and navy trousers, then settled on the simple badge on his broad chest. “Captain.”
“Hello.” He reached for her chin and tipped her face up to meet his gaze. “Doctor.”
“Are you here to raise a chandelier, or are you just glad to see me?”
“Both.” He laughed and came into the house, heading straight for the dog, who barked in greeting. “Hey, buddy. Is she corrupting you with off-color jokes?”
“Of course I am. And he thinks my bad humor is paw-some, right, Judah? It’s keeping us both from getting nervous about tomorrow.”
Declan straightened and turned to her. “I didn’t think you got nervous.”
“It’s been a while. I’ve been studying the surgery and looking over his images, so I have a plan, but I want to be ready.” She wrapped herself as if she were chilly, but the truth was she had to do something with her hands, or she’d reach out to grab hold of him.
Silent, he examined the massive chandelier that hung a little lower than eye level. “Sparkly.”
She lifted her hands. “I have the Brasso under my nails to prove it.”
He took those hands in his, examining her nails. “They look like surgeon’s hands to me.”
She wiggled her fingers. “They better be tomorrow.”
For a moment, he looked over their joined hands and into her eyes, long enough to make her knees a little weak and her toes curl in her sneakers. She tried to come up with a joke—anything—but her brain went blank as she stared back at him.
The only thing she could think of was how good it would feel to kiss him. A lot of kisses. All-night kisses.
So where was her joke? She had…nothing. Just raging hormones sending blasts of heat low in her belly that somehow managed to fry her sense of humor.
“I can get it up,” he said.
“Oh, I bet you can.”
“I
meant the chandelier, and that was cheap and easy, even for you.”
She gave a playful laugh and poked his chest. “There’s so much I could do with cheap and easy.”
He rolled his eyes and snagged the finger pressing into him. “Remember I’m just off a twenty-four-hour shift, so I can’t keep up with your mind, even when it’s teetering on the edge of the gutter.”
“Oh, you must be exhausted.”
“Not at all, but I am starving, so let me get this chandelier up, and then I’ll be back to beg for food like a dog.” He tossed a look at Judah. “No offense, J.”
“I’ll make you dinner,” she offered quickly.
“Or we can go out.”
As appealing as a dinner date with Declan was, she shook her head. “Granddaddy was a little out of it, and I don’t want to leave Judah. I’d love to cook for you, though. I made my grandfather spaghetti and can whip up some more with a salad. Yours won’t even have to be cut in small pieces. Yes?”
“Are you kidding? Yes, please. Be right back.” He took the stairs two at a time, leaving Judah at the bottom, panting as he watched him.
“Clearly, I know how you feel, bud.” She guided the dog with her to the kitchen to start dinner, and Declan was back in less than five minutes.
She glanced at him, knowing the impact the attic had had on him last time he was there, but he seemed cool, calm, and kind of sexy in his work clothes. God, not kind of. Just totally hot.
Oblivious to her hormone-infused thoughts, Declan leaned down again to get close to Judah. “Is he eating anything these days?”
“A little. And he has to eat something before six tonight, last meal prior to surgery. I’m cutting up some chicken for him.” She turned with the dog bowl, and Declan took it, setting it down in front of Judah.
For a moment, the pure domesticity of it all hit Evie square in the gut, even more than her primal physical attraction. This was worse than hormones. This was…a physical ache.
The togetherness of cooking in the kitchen, with a dog, the late afternoon sun pouring golden light through the windows. What would it be like…
“He polished that right off,” Declan said, crouching to gently love on the dog. “Good boy, Judah.”
“Would you like wine?” she asked.
“Just ice water, thanks. I don’t drink much.”
“Really?” she asked, getting a glass from the cabinet while he washed his hands. “I remember that you liked to borrow your grandmother’s Irish whiskey now and again.”
“I’m famous for holding my drinks and not actually drinking them, if you ask my brothers. But don’t let me stop you if you want some wine.”
“Not tonight. I have surgery in twelve hours.”
While she poured them ice water, he stepped close to one of the antique oil lamps by the back door. “Please tell me you never light these.”
“Of course not. I doubt they would work, but they do have to be polished, sadly.”
“Want me to put that on the handyman list?” he asked, taking the glass she handed him.
“The list is getting longer, Declan.”
He clinked her glass. “More reasons to see you, Evie.”
She smiled and took a sip. “So you don’t drink because you think you could lose control, or because you never know when you might get called in?” she guessed.
“I stopped drinking once I had my family to take care of.” He angled his water glass and glanced at it thoughtfully. “Plus, once you have Jameson’s in a paper cup with your best friend, every other drink after that is a letdown.”
Jameson’s in a paper cup.
A ribbon of emotion curled through her at the memory as she tapped the glasses again. “To good drinks we’ve had in the past.”
She purposely let the conversation drop, asking him questions about work as she started the pasta water and pulled the salad fixings from the fridge.
Taking a serrated knife from the block, he started cutting tomatoes, all the while telling her about life at the fire station and all the administrative work it involved, while Judah snoozed under the table, satisfied and blissfully ignorant of what tomorrow would hold.
He stayed there when they set the table, barely moving during the hour or so they lingered over dinner and more conversation, mostly chatting about the Founder’s Day event and how excited Granddaddy was for the party they’d have here that weekend.
By the time they’d finished, the glow in the room wasn’t just from the setting sun. Dinner had been perfect.
“I have an idea,” Declan said as they cleaned up together. “How about we take Judah for a slow walk? It’s probably his last one for a while.”
“That’s brilliant. Let me run up and see if Granddaddy’s awake, and I’ll let him know.”
But he was sound asleep, and a few minutes later, Evie grabbed a hoodie and met Declan and Judah in the driveway. “A walk through Ambrose Acres?” she suggested.
“He’s okay without a leash?”
“A leash would be miserable for him. Even a harness. This is Judah. He won’t leave our side.”
He took her hand, which felt like the most natural move in the world, and they started toward the street, taking it slow for the dog, who sidled up next to Declan. “So you do still love me,” he said, rubbing Judah’s head.
“You talking to him or me?” Evie teased.
He gave a slow smile and slid a look sideways. “I already know the answer to that, E.”
She laughed, so grateful they could fall back into easy jokes and the comfort of a lifetime of friendship.
“Hey, I know we missed a few, but how about a two-decade-long round of the Birthday Game?” she suggested.
“Wow, that’s a blast from the past.”
“A fun one,” she said. “I’ll start. Best movie?”
“In the last twenty years?” He narrowed his eyes, thinking. “Well, I did think of you when Lord of the Rings came out. We’d have liked watching any of those together, and I remember you devoured the books.”
“Loved them,” she agreed. “I took you for an Avatar or Skyfall guy.”
“Oh, Skyfall. Close second. And you probably would vote for…”
“Don’t guess, it’s Marley & Me although…” She pressed her hand to her heart. “Water for Elephants. So good.”
He laughed softly. “Animal movies, of course. Greatest personal accomplishment?” he asked, falling into step as easily as they fell into their old game.
“I guess earning the department head job,” she said. “Although, like I told you, that’s a blessing and a curse. You?”
He thought about it, then shrugged. “The family,” he said softly. “Making sure Smella made it to thirty without falling off a cliff in some country we’ve never heard of.”
“Smella.” She sighed. “I can’t believe you still call her that.”
“Please, they call me Big D.”
She chuckled. “Well, I would love to see Ella again.”
“Drop by her store, or better yet, come to Waterford Farm on any Sunday.”
“So Sunday dinners still happen every week? It didn’t change after your aunt Annie died?”
“It changed, yeah, but it’s never ended. And now Uncle Daniel is happy again and we have the Santorini Greeks, who bring food. Alex is a world-class chef, and John owns a restaurant. So that’s a huge improvement over my uncle’s cooking.” He tugged her closer. “Plus, all the siblings and cousins are adults now, so the touch football game gets serious. Most of them are married, and there are scads of little Kilcannons running around. You could see more of your new pal, Danny.”
“Oh.” She let out a groan. “That kid is so stinking cute.”
“They all are,” he told her. “But I do get a kick out of that one. He’s a freaking holy terror. And if you think he’s cute, wait until you meet Shane’s little girl, Annabelle. She’ll steal your heart. And Liam has two kids.”
“Molly told me. Christian and…Fiona?”
“Wee Fee, we call her. You should come on Sunday,” he said. “I’ve got the whole day off.”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
He slowed his step. “It’s my family, isn’t it? You’re worried about seeing them.”
Of course he knew the truth. “Not worried, but…” She sighed, stopping while Judah marked a tree. “I don’t plan to avoid them, and I have seen them now and again. But not…your mom.”
He drew back. “You’re scared of my mother?”
“Not scared, but…” She blew out a breath. “I’ve never really talked to her since your dad’s funeral.”
“Well, it’s time you do,” he said. “And spoiler alert, Colleen Mahoney is pretty much the sweetest, most nonjudgmental person you’ll ever meet.”
“I know that.”
“So you’ll come?” he asked.
“We’ll see. It all depends on Judah.” She gave him a little nudge. “Back to the game. Whose turn is it?”
“Mine,” he said. “Worst moment?”
“You know what it was, and it was the same for you. Let’s skip that year,” she suggested. “In fact, let’s limit our worst moment to the last ten years. How about that?”
“Fine, but there are too many to pick just one.”
“Cheery.”
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Ask my family. The D in Big D might stand for Drag. What was yours?”
She hesitated for only a few moments, then went with the truth. “When you left your uncle’s vet office after Rusty’s surgery.”
He sighed. “Yeah. Bad move.”
“It’s okay.” She squeezed his hand. “We don’t have to rehash the past.”
He shot her a look. “I thought that was the whole idea of the Birthday Game.”
“How about your biggest disappointment?” She squished her nose after she said that. “Gah. Why am I focused on the negative things?”
“Because that’s when you find out the real truth,” he said. “And mine was when I walked into Molly’s wedding and…”
“I wasn’t there,” she finished. “I heard it was beautiful and wintry and full of dogs.”
“All of the above. Were you busy?”
Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers Book 6) Page 16
