by Morgan Blaze
Winter blinked rapidly and stared at the table. “He was going to warn me,” she said. “Do you think he was right? Is someone…out to get me?”
His gut clenched. He remembered the urgency in Ben’s voice, the way he looked around to make sure no one was watching—and the chilling words he’d spoken.
Let’s just say there are people who’ll do a hell of a lot to keep her away.
“I believe him,” he finally said. “So I guess now the question is, what are we going to do about it?”
Winter gestured at the papers she’d moved aside when the food came. “I know someone in the fire department is inflating claims and siphoning off funds,” she said. “There are no mistakes here, at least not accidental ones. The numbers match perfectly—but they shouldn’t, because they’re wrong. I need the original files, the missing ones, to prove it.”
“Do you think it’s Ethan?”
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “He does seem the most likely suspect. But again, that’s a problem.”
“Why?”
“Usually, people who commit this kind of fraud aren’t obvious about it,” she said. “They don’t boast or brag, or get hostile with the reviewer. They can be resentful, especially at first, but then they fall back and cooperate, play the game. Sometimes they’re even more concerned and helpful than the innocent subjects. Because they really don’t want to get caught.”
“You don’t know Ethan Goddard,” he said. “He’s the biggest blowhard on the planet. He’d brag about starting World War II, if he thought it’d make him look better than someone else.”
“Maybe. But I’m not ready to say it’s definitely him yet.”
“So we need those files.” Adam sighed sharply and leaned back in the booth. “We do have a computerized system at the station,” he said. “Chief doesn’t use it much, but everything would’ve been scanned in. Whoever took the paper files probably deleted those too, though.”
Winter sat forward, suddenly animated. “It doesn’t matter if they’ve been deleted,” she said. “If they were in the system, I can probably access them.”
“You can?”
“Yes, I have to retrieve electronic files all the time,” she said. “Everyone tries to delete them. But unless you really know what you’re doing, they’re still there.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“So that’s what we’ll do. First thing tomorrow.” She gave a hesitant smile and started gathering papers, placing them neatly in her briefcase. “I’ll head back to my room now,” she said. “We can get an early start.”
“Wait.” He really didn’t like the idea of a faceless someone out there stalking her, and the thought that it might be Ethan was even less appealing. “Maybe you shouldn’t be alone,” he said. “You could stay at my place.”
She stared at him, horrified.
“No, I don’t mean…” He sighed. “I’d sleep on the couch. I’m just saying, if there is someone after you, it might be safer.”
“Really, Mr. Rho—Adam,” she said. “Do you think this person is going to be waiting for me in some dark alley with a crowbar? It’s quite the leap from insurance fraud to assault, you know.”
“Maybe. But still, at least let me give you my number and address.” He couldn’t shake the feeling he’d had earlier at the accident scene, that it had something to do with Winter. “If anything happens, you can call. Or just come over. Okay?”
“I suppose.” With a skeptical frown, she pulled a phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times and handed it to him. As he entered the information, she said, “You’re probably overreacting again.”
“Yes. I’m good at that.” He tried to smile as he gave the phone back, but didn’t quite make it. “Thank you for talking to me,” he said. “And just…be careful. Please.”
“I will. Promise.”
Adam sat back with his coffee, watching her signal for Piper and ask for a box to take the rest of her food. Maybe he was overreacting. He was genuinely concerned, but she probably wasn’t in mortal danger.
Maybe he just wanted her to come to his place…because he wanted her.
But her wanting him was even less likely than a crowbar attack in an alley.
Chapter 9
The Whispering Rose Bed and Breakfast seemed almost sinister as Winter parked in the back and climbed out of the truck. Silence lay over the parking lot, and nothing at all moved.
At least there weren’t any dark alleys here.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath. Adam’s concern, and the invitation to stay at his place in case someone tried to attack, had apparently affected her more than she thought.
Or it could just be the idea of staying at his place.
She still wanted him. There was no denying it, much as she longed to. Of course, he obviously didn’t return the feeling—the comment about her frozen heart made that clear, even if he had apologized—and that just made it worse.
Slinging her briefcase strap over her shoulder, she headed for the private entrance to her room. The key was an actual metal one, not a plastic card like most hotel-type places used now. It was probably supposed to add to the charm. But right now, in the eerie silence of the parking lot, she just wanted to be safe in her room—charming touches optional.
She fumbled the key, actually dropping it before she managed to get the door unlocked. Her heart sped, and her breathing grew shallow. No amount of telling herself how silly this was eased the panic. At last, she stepped through and closed the door behind her, leaning against it to release a shuddering sigh. “Now stop this,” she said firmly, and turned to lock up.
That was when someone grabbed her from behind.
She drew a startled half-breath, and a gloved hand clamped over her mouth, pressing her against a firm body. “Don’t move, and I won’t hurt you.” A male voice in her ear, a rasping whisper she didn’t recognize, oddly muffled. The arm around her waist eased.
Her captive took the briefcase.
She jerked hard, arms waving, searching for part of him to grab. Attempting to get a glimpse at him. When she tried to twist away, the hand on her mouth pressed harder and squeezed—mashing her lips, digging under her cheek bones until tears formed in her eyes. “I said, don’t move,” the voice repeated. “Or I’ll shoot.”
A small, hard point jabbed into the small of her back. She stilled instantly.
“Your investigation is over,” the voice said. “You found nothing, and you’re going to leave town now. Do you understand? Nod if you do.”
She nodded.
“Good. Now, we’re going to back up and turn around.”
As her captor moved back, she stumbled along as best she could, highly aware of what was pressing into her. The door retreated. He pulled her around until she was facing the back of the room. “I’m moving my hand,” he said. “Not a word, Miss Solomon.”
She remained silent, only drawing a harsh breath when the hand came from her mouth. She could still feel the gun against her, taste the heavy canvas of the glove.
“On your knees. Lace your hands behind your head.”
“Please,” she whispered. “I haven’t—”
“Now.”
Shaking, Winter complied as quickly as she could.
“When you hear the door close, count to fifty before you move.” The pressure at her back vanished, and she heard footsteps moving away from her, then the click of the lock opening. “By the way, Miss Solomon, I wouldn’t recommend calling the police,” the man said. “Accidents happen. You should leave before one happens to you.”
She gasped as the impact of those words hit her. Ben. She closed her eyes, but tears still slipped from them as she waited, not daring to breathe.
It seemed like hours before the door finally opened and closed.
Winter stayed in place, breathing in shallow sips and trying to regain control of her trembling body. It was well past a fifty count when she lowered her arms, and another full minute
until she dared to stand. At least her legs held. But her face was sore and stiff where he’d held her, and she tasted blood on her stinging lip. It must’ve cut against a tooth.
Her mind whirled as she tried to assess the situation. The assailant told her not to call the police, and for now, she wouldn’t. She had no doubt that whoever he was had arranged Ben’s death. He’d told her to leave, and she would. She’d leave The Whispering Rose right now.
But she refused to leave town. She wouldn’t let this guy get away with massive fraud…or with murder.
Adam. She’d call—no, she couldn’t call. If she tried to speak on the phone right now, she’d be an incoherent mess. She would go there, use her GPS to find his place. The drive would give her a chance to calm down a little. To put some distance between her and the assault.
She was packed in less than three minutes, and on the road in five.
* * * *
Adam didn’t even try to sleep.
He headed straight home after the diner, crushed beneath the weight of the day. The accident, Ben’s death, the interviews with the sheriff and the chief, breaking the news to Ben’s daughter Christina—the only one of his three children who still lived in town. He’d insisted on doing it in person.
And then, there was Winter.
Running into her at the diner had been startling, but he never suspected she’d been there to meet Ben—or would have, anyway. He was glad for the chance to apologize in a non-work setting. But his concern remained, and learning that Ben had wanted to talk to her only heightened it.
By now he should’ve felt a little better, though. So why was he more worried than ever?
Home was a small house in a quiet part of town, wooded and set back from the road. When he got there, he headed straight for the kitchen and grabbed a beer, and then camped out on the couch with the remote. If he could find something stunningly boring enough, maybe it would put him to sleep.
He was still flipping through channels half an hour later when the doorbell rang.
His heart stopped. He bolted from the couch and crossed the room to the front door, knowing it had to be Winter. Even Dom wouldn’t come over this late. He only hoped she wasn’t here because something awful had happened.
One glimpse of her dashed that hope and robbed him of breath.
She stood on the steps visibly trembling, her hands clasped together and her eyes too wide. Mussed hair, disheveled clothes. Blood on her lip.
“Adam,” she half-whispered. “It wasn’t an alley. He was in my room…”
Her words felt like a blow to the gut. Damn it, he should’ve insisted on not leaving her alone. Reacting on instinct, he put an arm around her shuddering frame and drew her inside, then kicked the door shut. “Okay,” he said. “You’re safe here with me. It’s over, and you’re safe.”
She collapsed against him with a wrenching sob.
Unable to find words, he simply held her. She didn’t make another sound, but her shoulders shook, and she clung to him like she thought he’d disappear any second. He rubbed her back, not wanting to ask her any questions until the storm passed.
Finally, her trembling stopped and she eased away. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I was all right. I was fine driving here, and then…”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said firmly. “Whatever happened, it’s not your fault.”
She drew a slow, hitching breath. “I think I’d better sit down,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”
“Christ, I’m an idiot. Yes. Please.” He led her gently to the couch, and when she was settled, he grabbed the folded blanket from the back and draped it around her shoulders. Then he sat carefully next to her. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Like I said, he was in my room.” She closed her eyes and shivered once. “I don’t know who, only that it was a man. He was kind of…growling, so I didn’t recognize his voice. And I never saw him. He grabbed me from behind.”
“Oh, God. Winter, I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head and went on in flat tones. “He took my bag. My interview notes, the copies of the missing files. He had a gun. He told me to close the investigation and leave town, and not to call the police.” Her head turned slowly toward him, and there were fresh tears in her eyes. “Adam…he killed Ben,” she whispered.
“What?”
“He didn’t come out and say it. He just said, ‘Accidents happen.’” She fixed him with a haunted gaze. “And he said I should leave, before one happens to me.”
Fury swelled in him, pushing the fear aside. Losing Ben in an accident was hard enough to take—but this was murder. “We’re calling the sheriff,” he said. “I want this son of a bitch caught, right now.”
“No,” Winter said quietly. “We can’t do that.”
“Watch me.”
“Adam, he was serious. If the police get involved, I’ll have an ‘accident’—and you will, too.” She took his hand, and her own was pale and cold. “In fact, it’ll be easy to arrange your death. Your job is already dangerous.”
“I guess it would,” he conceded reluctantly. “But I’m not going to stand back and do nothing. I won’t let this guy get away with it.”
“Neither will I.”
He stared at her, holding her cold hand in both of his. “Winter…you should leave town,” he said. “I’ll take you anywhere you want. But you have to get away from this guy.”
“I’m not going to run.”
“It’s not safe—”
“No!” Her eyes glittered with determination. “I should’ve listened to you in the first place, but I’m not running away from this. It’s still my investigation. And now I really want to bring him down, because he’s a murderer. He killed a good man.” She exhaled sharply, like a boxer just before a match. “We’re going to find him, and stop him.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “You really are fascinating, Winter Solomon.”
“No, I’m just stubborn.” The small smile she gave him in return warmed him. “And…I’d really like to take a shower. If that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
He showed her to the bathroom, found her a fresh towel, and went to the kitchen to make coffee. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night for both of them.
Chapter 10
Winter sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee between her hands. The shower helped clear her head. Unfortunately, she was wide awake and restless, not sure what the next step should be.
She watched Adam fix a cup for himself and sit down across from her. “So you don’t have any idea who it was.”
“No.” She shook her head, as if it would dislodge some clue she’d overlooked. It didn’t. “He was careful not to let me see him,” she said. “And that voice could’ve been anyone.”
“Well, at least we know he works at the fire station.” Adam stared at his coffee. “I can’t believe one of ours would do something like this. Not just the fraud, but…Christ, he killed Ben. I mean, I didn’t even think Ethan was capable of that.”
“We don’t know it’s Ethan,” she said.
Something flashed dark in Adam’s eyes. “We don’t know it wasn’t,” he growled. “And I swear to God, if he’s the one who touched you—”
She shivered, but not from his anger. He hadn’t said Ben. Not that time.
He said if he touched her.
“We’re going to find out,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t shake too badly. “Get me to a computer at the station in the morning, and I should be able to find those files. There has to be something there, or he wouldn’t have taken them.”
“Yeah. But whoever it is will be at the station too.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe he’ll be the one who doesn’t show up for work tomorrow.”
Adam nodded and sipped at his coffee. “I guess there’s nothing else we can do tonight,” he said. “If you want to get some sleep…”
She smiled weakly. “I wish I could. Right now, I feel lik
e I’ll never sleep again.”
“I hear that.” He gave her a long look, and said, “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your job.”
“I see. You want me to bore you to sleep.”
Once again, his laughter didn’t feel mocking. “No, I’m really interested,” he said. “I know insurance is your thing, but there’s a ton of insurance jobs in all different fields. And you chose working for the fire marshal.” He flashed a disarming smile. “There has to be a reason for that.”
For just an instant, the images and sounds exploded in her head. Fire. Smoke. Flashing lights. Screaming. “It’s a job,” she said, pushing the memories away. “I’m good with numbers, and I needed money. That’s about it.”
“I’m not buying it.”
She glared at him. “Why not?”
“Because you’re dedicated,” he said. “And I don’t mean that in a bad way. If it was just a job, you wouldn’t be so thorough. You wouldn’t work after hours.” His smile sent her heart flipping. “I know you have passion. I’ve seen it.”
A rush of heat filled her, and she had to look away. “I thought we were talking about work,” she muttered.
“We are.” He waited until she looked at him again. “You’re the most intriguing person I’ve ever met,” he said. “I want to know what makes you tick.”
She sighed. “I just don’t like seeing people get hurt. Safety first and all,” she said. “That’s really what my job is about. Not numbers and reports—safety. Making sure procedures are followed, and…lives aren’t lost.”
“Who did you lose?” he said softly.
She wasn’t going to talk about this. Not with him, not here and now. It was over and done. Accidents happen.
Her breath shuddered from her, and she heard herself say, “My sister.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “Winter, I’m so sorry.”
“Her name was Autumn.” She stared into her coffee cup, scarcely aware of the sad smile on her face. “Our parents had a strange sense of humor. She was a redhead, and I’m…well, this. Pale, bland, and boring. But Autumn—she was so alive. Funny and smart and beautiful. Everyone loved her.” She lifted her gaze to him. “Even me,” she whispered. “Especially me.”
