“And leave them off.” Just then, he saw Bell disappear out the back door.
He waited a split second, then decided to follow, standing on the back step to watch the man skulk through the shadows to the other side of the house.
Where he crossed the patio to stand outside the sunroom.
The son of a bitch was going to come right back in, wasn’t he? Declan marched after him, the low-grade annoyance fully amped up to pissed-off now.
He found him on the patio, hands cupped against one of the French doors, peering inside the sunroom.
“Can I help you find the front of the house?” Declan said in a voice that left no doubt how he felt about the encounter.
“Gotta say, Mahoney.” He inched away from the glass and turned to Declan. “You’re the last person I thought would care about this house. On the contrary, I’d expect you’d like to see it burned to the ground.”
Some heat fired through his veins, but he didn’t say a word.
“I mean, if my study of Gloriana House’s history is right, then…a man named Joseph Mahoney died right on this spot. Wild guess—your father?”
Declan swallowed, tamping down a temper that rarely showed its face. “If you keep going to your right, Mr. Bell, you’ll see the driveway. Come on, I’ll take you.”
As he got closer, the other man stepped back.
“But think of it like this,” Bell said. “Sell me the house, and you marry the woman who owns it, and you get a nice big payoff for your grief.”
“Who the hell are you?” Declan demanded through a clenched jaw.
“I’m a history buff,” he said quickly. “And I’m a man madly in love with a woman who wants this house and everything in it. And I happen to be rich enough to get it for her. And I know you don’t want to live where—”
Declan got right in his face. “You don’t know anything.”
“I know people,” he said, undaunted. “And I suspect you can’t walk into that room…” He gestured toward the sunroom. “And not wonder what happened. I doubt you can stand under this overhang and not think about the moment he died. I’m sure you can’t sit in that sunroom on a nice day and not think about your father.”
Declan’s hands fisted into such tight balls he could feel his nails dig into his palms. “What is wrong with you?”
“I want this house.”
So he’d do and say anything to get it?
Declan took a quick step closer, grabbed the guy by the collar, and shoved his fist under his chin. “What you are is so far out of line, your head could snap. Or I might help it.”
“I want the house,” he mouthed the words. “And you want to be free of it. Why are you fighting it, my friend?”
“You’re not my friend. And you’re not welcome here.” Declan pushed him away. “Leave. Now.”
“Fine. But get this straight, pal. I get what I want, one way or another.” He started off in the direction of the driveway.
Digging deep, Declan forced himself to stare straight up at the overhang and imagine the sound and sight of it collapsing. The flare of sparks. The flash of fear. He could smell the smoke and feel the pressure on Dad’s gear. Did he burn? Did it crush him? Break a bone? Kill him instantly?
He took a slow, steadying breath, erasing the sensations.
It’s not the same. It’s not the same building.
But could he ever forget that? Could he so cavalierly say he’d live here with Evie?
For a long moment, he stood there, adrenaline dumping like a waterfall into his blood, his chest rising and falling with each pained breath. He could feel himself falling and falling…down to the dank, dark, awful place that consumed him.
The freaking basement.
He dropped his head back and rooted for the strength to grab hold of something, anything, and kick that door shut once and for all. For Evie. For the baby they would have. Yes, for this house that meant so much to her, her family, and his hometown. He needed to keep this house so dimwits like Bell couldn’t ruin it.
But the questions still echoed.
What had his dad seen that night? Why would he make a move without his partner? There were still so many unanswered questions. Questions he needed to at least try to answer.
He pulled out his phone, tapping the contacts to find Chief Winkler.
“Declan,” he answered with warmth in his voice. “I thought you were at the big party.”
“I am, but I want to take you up on your offer, Chief. I’ll take that list of everyone who was at the fire that night. I want to talk to them. I want to talk to them all. I have to know…” He swallowed hard. “I’ll take that list,” he finished.
“Will do, Dec.”
He hung up the phone and turned to head back to the house, but he didn’t get five steps before he froze at the sight of Evie in her gossamer gown.
“I had to get rid of him, E. Sorry, he…” His voice trailed off at her stricken expression.
“Is he right, Dec?”
“Is who…what?”
“Can you ever forget it, really?”
How much of that conversation had she heard? “I can damn well try.”
She closed her eyes. “You promised, Dec. You promised you’d let it go.”
The impact of her whispered words was as bad as if she’d screamed them. Would this be another one of his unkept promises?
“Evie, I’m trying, believe me.”
“But you’re failing. I saw your face just now. You had that same look you had twenty years ago…when you left me.” She hugged herself. “You’re going back to that…place.”
Damn it. Even she knew when he was about to fall into the basement. “Look, that guy—”
“That guy put into words what we all know,” she said. “Every time you doubt, every time you miss him, every time you come near here…you’ll be plagued.”
“No, I won’t,” he insisted. “I’m just now beginning to appreciate this house. And it’s a part of you. Why do you think I was fighting so hard to get rid of some jerk who wants to buy it?”
“And calling for investigation files and lists of people who were here that night?”
“I want to find out why my dad made the choice he made, that’s all.”
She let out a sigh, soft enough to draw him closer.
“Please, Evie. Please.” He reached for her. “Were you looking for me?”
“I went back to my room for a moment, and when I came out, I saw you leave, and I was curious, and…I heard your conversation. Enough of it, anyway.”
“You heard the words, Evie, but you don’t know what I’m thinking.”
She looked up at him, sighing. “I’m not pregnant.”
He felt his jaw loosen as a sucker punch of disappointment hit, but he hit it right back. “That’s okay. We’ll try—”
She shook her head, tears welling. “And I’ve been offered the job as dean of the vet school at NC State.”
Now his jaw actually fell open. “Holy…wow. Evie. That’s…huge.”
“It is,” she acknowledged. “And kind of what I’ve been working for my whole life.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, disappointment rising up like bile. “I know it is.”
“Actually, you don’t know, because…you weren’t there for the last twenty years.”
“Evie.” He could practically feel his heart break. “I told you how sorry—”
“I know you are. And I believe you, Dec. I do.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks as if she wished she could stop herself but couldn’t. “But can I give you my life and my heart and my soul and live in constant fear that one day you’ll just…disappear? Can I subject a child to that kind of emotional rejection? I’m scared, Dec. I don’t want to relive that pain every time you relive yours.”
The words sliced right through him. Because on some deep level—as deep as that emotional cellar he liked to avoid—she might be right. He didn’t respond, but just stared at her, paralyzed as he’d been for the most of the
past twenty years. Words once again all sounded pathetic and hollow. Instead, he stood frozen, falling into the abyss.
“I’m going back to the party,” she said on a sad sigh, turning to head to the back door.
“I’ll go with you.” He took a few steps, then paused, watching her cloud of silk float toward the door. “I’ll go with you anywhere, E,” he added on a whisper, but she didn’t hear him.
Chapter Twenty-six
From the moment Evie woke the next morning, one single thought echoed in her head: I am a flipping idiot.
Yes, she’d overheard bits of a conversation that upset her. And yes, the tone in Declan’s voice had dragged her back to the dark days, when she couldn’t get eye contact from him, let alone honesty about his feelings. And yes, stress from the job offer and the party, combined with the bone-deep disappointment from discovering she was indeed not pregnant…all had had her off in search of comfort from Declan.
Then she’d watched him outside the sunroom, reliving his father’s last moments, fighting tears…and all her fears swamped her. But now, in the light of day on the morning of the parade, common sense prevailed. She wasn’t taking that job. She wasn’t living in fear. She wasn’t giving up on their dreams.
And she had to tell him that.
She even changed the plan of having the parade convertible pick her and Granddaddy up at home, in case she needed her car to drive around to find Declan.
She huffed out a sigh, getting a look from Granddaddy as she walked him from the parking lot behind the bookstore, where she’d been more than mildly disappointed not to see Declan’s truck. It was a short stroll across Bushrod Square toward the parade staging area, but maybe not short for her ninety-two-year-old grandfather.
“Too much, Granddaddy?” she asked when he slowed a bit. “I should have gotten Grandmama’s old wheelchair.”
“In front of the whole town? I told you we should have brought Judah, and then no one would notice how slow I’m going.”
“He’s not ready for an outing like this,” she said. “And now I’m starting to worry that maybe you aren’t, either.”
“I’m enjoying myself.” Granddaddy adjusted the angle of his Navy vet ball cap and waved to some passersby. “I’m regretting that third shot of Jameson’s last night, but I had too much damned fun with those women. Are the Dogmothers going to be here?”
“I’m sure they’re with the whole clan.” Which she hoped to God included Declan.
“The Irish Mafia of Bitter Bark I used to call those Mahoneys and Kilcannons,” he mused. “And now there’s a Greek goddess.”
Where was the Irish Mafia? Her heart dropped a little as she remembered how she’d teased Declan about the same thing. Where was he? When they’d said goodbye last night, it had been cool and quick, all they could manage with people around and his family urging him to join them all for a nightcap at Bushrod’s.
He’d asked her to go, and she’d said she’d try to make it, but by the time she got Granddaddy in bed and the caterers had cleaned up and left, she collapsed on her bed with Judah in a pool of tears, emotionally and physically wiped out.
And Declan hadn’t texted or called—not that she could blame him.
But he had to be here today. She scanned the crowded square, peering between groups of families, tourists, dogs, and past the fiery trees that exploded in the reds and oranges of autumn, but she didn’t see a single member of his family. But then she spied the bleachers and recalled someone referencing the “family viewing section” in the square.
They’d all be there, she guessed. But would Declan? Because once, a long time ago, he told her he used to get here early to sit on the steps of town hall.
She’d find him, one way or another. But she couldn’t drag Granddaddy around on that mission. “Let’s go this way, toward those bleachers,” she said. “You can sit with your friends for a while, since we’re early.” An hour early because she wanted to see Declan so bad. “And I can…” Apologize to the man she loved.
It had been tempting to call him, but what needed to be said had to be done in person, holding his hand, looking into his eyes, asking his forgiveness and assuring him they could make it through anything.
As she rounded the bleachers, she spotted the distinctly silver hair of Daniel Kilcannon, one arm around Katie, the other holding one of his grandbabies. Her gaze darted over rows of family members, all of them laughing, animated, and talking in groups.
But no sign of Declan.
“Evie!” Molly stood and waved.
“Let’s go join them,” she said to Granddaddy. Before he had a chance to respond, Connor and Braden both shot up and jumped off the side of the bleachers to come help her grandfather. The people in the front row, including Gramma Finnie and Yiayia, started clearing some space, and Pru headed over to greet her, holding little Danny’s hand as she helped him walk on unsteady baby sneakers.
Suddenly, they all looked very much like…family. And her throat grew thick with regret for the things she’d said and the need to talk to Declan.
“Aren’t you supposed to be going to the staging area?” Connor asked, reaching them first.
“We’re early, and we thought Granddaddy could rest here a minute.”
“Sure,” Braden said, taking her grandfather’s other arm. “I know a couple of ladies who haven’t stopped talking about taking shots with you last night.”
Granddaddy adjusted his cap again and grinned. “Wait till they see me in the convertible.”
As Braden helped him toward the bleachers, Evie turned to Connor.
“Where’s Declan?”
They asked the question in perfect unison, making Evie draw back.
“I thought you’d know.”
Connor lifted his brows. “I thought he stayed with you last night.”
“Didn’t he go to Bushrod’s?” she asked.
“He never showed.” A frown pulled. “I called him about an hour ago, but it went straight to voice mail.”
“Could he be at the station?” she asked, knowing how often he popped in there to check on things even when he wasn’t on duty.
“I’ll go check.”
“No, I will, Connor.” She couldn’t wait one more minute to see him. And maybe he was on the town hall steps. Just for old times’ sake. “Let me go,” she insisted. “I need to.”
“Everything okay with you two?” he asked. “’Cause he was kind of quiet during the party last night.”
“Everything’s fine.” Or it would be. “I’ll find him, Connor. Keep an eye on…” She leaned around him and caught sight of Granddaddy sitting between Yiayia and Gramma Finnie. “Never mind. He seems fine.”
Connor laughed. “Yeah, he found his drinking buddies.”
With a quick wave to Granddaddy, she headed out of the square toward town hall, her heart rate increasing with hope as she searched the crowds already seated on the wide front steps.
But there was no sign of him, no handsome firefighter waiting in the spot where he used to perch at every Founder’s Day parade when she was a kid.
Biting back her disappointment, she hustled through the crowd, turning onto the street that led to the fire station. He told her once that he slept there sometimes, or went in to work on admin.
Hope growing, she pulled open the glass front door and smiled at an older woman at the front desk. “Is Declan Mahoney here?” she asked without even a hello first.
The woman frowned and shook her head, turning to glance at a board behind her. “He’s not on duty until tomorrow.”
“Oh. And there’s no chance—”
A tall, bald man stepped into the reception area, looking up from some papers in his hand. One look at his uniform and badge, and Evie knew exactly who he was.
“Chief Winkler?” She extended her hand. “I’m Evie Hewitt.”
“Evie!” His face brightened. “Well, I bet you can help me out. I can’t seem to get a hold of Declan.”
“Oh.” The word slipp
ed out. “I was hoping he was here.”
Dark brows furrowed as he shook his head. “No. I haven’t heard from him since he texted me in the middle of the night with his bad news.”
“Bad news?”
“For me, but not for you.” He winked and leaned closer to whisper, “I think he’ll like Raleigh. I’m crushed, but I totally get his decision.”
His decision? To go to Raleigh? He was giving up his dream of being chief so she could follow hers? Her heart almost burst with love and the need to hold him in her arms and tell him—
“You’ll see him before I will.” Chief held out the packet to her. “Will you give him this? He called last night and asked for it, and I was about to scan it in to email it, but this is easier.”
“Sure.” She closed her fingers around what she already knew was a list of firefighters who’d been at Gloriana House the night of the fire. “You don’t have any idea where he might be?”
“Somewhere out in that mess in Bushrod Square, I suppose.” Then he gave her a curious look. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the parade?”
“I am, but I have an hour.” An hour to find him, but where could he be? “I’ll get this to him, I promise.”
As she stepped away, she glanced down at the papers before she could slide them into her bag. Her gaze landed on the third name on the alphabetical list.
Jamie Bell**
Wait. Could that be James Bell? The guy who wanted to buy the house and was being such a jerk to Declan last night?
She turned as Chief Winkler was headed back in. “Excuse me, Chief?” She pointed to the list. “This Jamie Bell? Who is he, and why are there asterisks next to his name?”
“One means he was a volunteer. The other means he was not at the fire, just on the vol roster. I don’t want Declan wasting any time going to talk to him.”
The James Bell she knew had said he used to live around here.
“Why? Do you know him?” the chief asked.
“I think I’ve met him.” She tipped her head, not even able to picture the thin man as a rugged firefighter. “I actually think he was in my house last night.”
“Oh, that’s a coincidence.” He shrugged. “Well, then I assume Declan talked to him already and knows he wasn’t at the fire that night.”
Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers Book 6) Page 28
