“To the ground?” she repeated, stunned. “Completely gone?”
“I’m afraid so. Accelerants were found. Is there any reason someone would want to burn down your father’s warehouse, Miss Martin?” Wren asked her.
She tottered on her feet, and Troy gripped her waist to steady her.
God. This news was like running full-force into a window. Her whole future had cracked and threatened to shatter.
She looked up at him then over to the two fire marshals. “My father was ill for three months before he died. I’ve just taken over the business and finished an audit on Friday. There is stock missing worth thousands of dollars. I think one of the staff has been stealing.”
“Did you inform the police?” Oliver asked. Something about his tone bothered her. He kept glancing at Troy with a hard expression.
“No. I was planning to, but as I said, I’ve only just finished the stock audit, which is on the computer at work in the office.”
Fire marshal Wren grimaced. “The office didn’t survive, either, Miss Martin,” he said.
“How is that possible?” Although the office was connected to the warehouse, it was solid brick, unlike the warehouse, which had a lighter structure.
Sweat beaded at her temples. The hangover became a stress headache thudding behind her eyes, and she started to tremble. She tried to remember whether the office computer had a backup system in the cloud, but she couldn’t think straight.
Troy pulled her close and pressed his lips to her cheek. “It’s going to be okay, Stacey.”
“No, it’s not. This was arson. A deliberate attack.” She could feel her chest tightening. She tried to breathe steadily, but it was impossible. “I need my asthma medication.” She went to her purse on the console and grabbed her inhaler.
“I know. You’re Troy DeLance,” Oliver said, pointing his finger rudely at Troy. “Knew I’d seen you before.”
“He’s my fiancé,” Stacey said, then took a deep puff.
“The son of the Slayers president,” the assistant fire marshal said with a sneer.
Adrenalin from the shock of losing the business flared. “Don’t you dare use that tone with my fiancé. He’s a brave man who has served his country for ten years. How long did you serve?”
Wren gave her a pitying look. “He’s a Slayer.”
“How is that relevant?” Troy asked, crossing his arms, his biceps bulging.
Oliver’s brows drew together. “You were the main suspect when that rocket launcher demolished the Banderos complex.”
“Seriously?” she swung her gaze at Troy. She remembered Brian and Dad telling her about something like that a year ago. How a huge explosion had rocked the area around the rival club’s headquarters. Many news channels had run the story. No one had ever been charged, but news footage had shown the Slayers in a show of force, riding their bikes in a victory lap past the demolished site.
“The charges were dropped,” Troy said, his face impassive. “Anyway, I don’t see the relevance to Miss Martin’s case.”
“How convenient,” Oliver said, his voice snide.
“Is the business insured, Miss Martin?” Wren said.
“Yes. My father made sure everything was in order before he died.” In that way they were alike, dotting all the I’s and crossing the T’s.
“We’ll be conducting a full investigation into the fire and its possible causes.” Fire Marshal Wren handed her his card. “I’d like you to come to my office next week. I have some questions, and the police will need a statement. Bring a copy of your ownership and insurance papers, too.”
She nodded. “Sure.”
He gave Troy a hard look. “The police will also want proof of the missing stock you mentioned, Miss Martin.”
“You mean the audit?”
“Insurance claims involve big money,” Wren said as the two men headed for the door. “They’ll need to see both the books and your audit.”
Oliver gave her a curt nod as he handed her his card. “We wouldn’t want suspicion to fall on an innocent employee.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Troy’s whole body tensed as he stood in the doorway of Stacey’s house watching the two fire marshals walk to their car. “I’d like to give those assholes a taste of my fist.”
“Don’t. They’re just doing their jobs,” Stacey said. “But I sure didn’t like what Oliver was implying about you being somehow involved in the fire.”
“You know that’s ridiculous, right?” Troy asked with a frown. She was just starting to trust him. Their fragile relationship didn’t need this complication.
“Yes. I do.” She rubbed the crease on her brow.
He took her face in his hands. “You defended me. I can’t think of the last time anyone did that for me.”
She pressed her hands over his, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. “Of course I defended my fiancé. I’ll always have your back.” Then her face crumbled. “Oh, God. what am I going to do? I can’t believe I’ve lost everything.”
“Not true. You still have me.” He gave her a hug, wondering if she’d ever accept his support. She kept saying she was alone, even at the meet in front of his parents.
“Thanks.” She hugged him back, then sucked in several more puffs from her inhaler. She walked to the study and turned on her dad’s home computer. “I have to prove Bill is behind this, or they’ll try to pin this on you.”
“Unfortunately true.” Troy leaned against the doorjamb watching her work, determined to prove his innocence. It touched his heart in a way that nothing else had.
While she waited for it to boot up, she turned to him. “Did you really fire a rocket launcher into that rival clubhouse?”
He grinned. He didn’t want to blot his already blotted copybook even more. “Stacey, the things you think I’m capable of.”
“Were any men killed in that attack?”
“No. They were all somewhere else, at a meet.” He’d sworn to himself he’d never kill again when he returned home, and he’d stuck to it.
“Thank goodness. I’m hoping that wasn’t a coincidence,” she said, looking relieved.
“I’m sure whoever did it made sure of that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Anyway. We have work to do.” When the monitor came on, she leaned in and typed in the password. She quickly got into the business accounts and breathed an enormous sigh of relief. “Thank God. Everything is backed up here from the office computer. All the files, and the audit I made of the missing stock with their order numbers. Dad was a stickler about his record keeping, just like I am.”
She pressed print and went over to check the printer had enough paper.
“Give me that fire marshal’s card,” Troy said. It was time to prove to her that she wasn’t alone. That the club’s protection didn’t mean ownership, but support, caring, and help when you damn well needed it.
“Why?” She held it tightly in her hand.
“And the addresses of both of your employees.” He closed the distance between them.
Her eyes opened wide. “You can’t hurt them, Troy.” She was clearly alarmed,
“Who said anything about hurting them?” He had to prove to her that he could handle situations without violence. It was time to build her trust.
“And no rocket launchers, either.”
He gave her a sardonic look. “I promise.”
“Fine.” She printed out their employee files and identity photos, and handed them to him along with the two fire marshals’ cards. “I mean it, Troy. Don’t do anything illegal, or even questionable.”
“I won’t. But records or not, you are going to have a hell of a time getting the police to charge Bill. Not while one of the fire marshals is determined to pin this on me.”
“I’ll be damned if I’ll let him. I’m going to email Wren a copy of my files right away, and make a copy for the police, too.”
Troy’s dark eyes warmed when he looked at her. “You’re fierce when you get going.”
“Don’t you forget it, mister,” she said, typing the email. “That is all the proof anyone needs to see. Oliver is wrong about you.”
“Maybe. But if the insurance company gets involved and refuses to pay, you could be tied up in court for years.” He pocketed the two cards and folded the printed files while she sent the email. “I’m going out for a while.”
“Where? I want you to take me to the warehouse. I need to see the extent of the damage. Besides, I don’t want to be alone.”
“Have some breakfast and take a little nap. I’ll be back in a flash and will take you.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I’ve got some quick business with the brothers. Meanwhile, I’m going to send Pa around to watch over you. Lock the door until he gets here.”
“What?” She tried not to shudder. “No. No need to call him.”
“I know he takes some getting used to, but Pa’s going to be your father-in-law, babe. He’ll be on your side.”
Troy pulled her to her feet and hugged her. “You had an intruder last night and a fire today. I’m not taking chances. No way am I leaving you alone here.” Troy hit speed dial on his cell and spoke to his father.
“I don’t see why you can’t stay,” she grumbled.
He ended the call. “Oh, and when Pa’s here, get Animal on the phone and tell him he can come home.”
“Oh, Troy. Thank God. Yes, I’ll do that.” How could she have forgotten?
He put on his cut, leaned down, and kissed her again. “Pa’s on his way. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Hours! What will I talk to Pa about?” she wailed.
“Give him a beer and sit him in front of the television. He’ll be fine.” Troy strode into the hallway and picked up his keys. “I told you before I’d make things right. It’s time. Bye, baby.”
“Troy? Don’t do anything dangerous. I’m serious. I don’t want you in jail.”
He laughed. “Believe me, I’m not going to be the one in the cell.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Troy pulled in to the back of the club, pleased to see the bikes of the men he needed lined up neatly in their places. Opening the back door of the clubhouse, he was hit with the stench of beer, sex, and cigarette smoke. It was still early, and brothers lay sprawled asleep in the hallway and in the bedrooms he strode past. He could see Hawg snoring in one of them.
He went into the large common room area and flicked on the strong overhead lights, searching for the brothers he wanted. The men groaned as they tried to shield their eyes. “Wake up, Slayers. We have a briefing in ten minutes. I want Metal Man, Axel, and Pervert. The rest of you can go back to sleep.”
Ten minutes later, the four men assembled in Pa’s office. Pervert and Metal Man leaned against the wall while Axel stood and checked his weapons.
“The fire marshal, Thomas Wren, and his sidekick, Mark Oliver, came by Stacey’s house this morning to inform her that her warehouse has burned down. You may remember it was that prick, Oliver, who tried to bring me and the Slayers down for the Banderos rocket launcher attack.”
“Yeah,” Metal Man said, rubbing his hands together, his skull rings making a scratching sound.
“We can silence Oliver,” Pervert said. “He uses a strap-on to satisfy his girlfriend, and his wife won’t be too pleased when she finds out.”
“About the strap-on or the girlfriend?” Axel asked, brows raised.
“Both. Want to see the photos? They’re great blackmail material,” Pervert said, passing his cell phone over to Axel.
“What’s wrong with the guy? Doesn’t he have his own cock?” Axel asked.
Troy shook his head and said, “We’re not going after Oliver today. Pervert, I need you and Metal Man to find the actual suspect for me. Study this personnel file of Stacey’s employee, Hans Rudder, and his photo, and bring him here to the club.”
“Are we blowing anything up?” Axel asked with a grin. He was the best explosives expert the club had.
Troy grinned back. “Not this time, unfortunately. But I want you as my wingman to pick up Bill Rush. Oliver wants to lay this arson shit at my door since he and the cops couldn’t pin the rocket launcher attack on me. I’m not going to let him ruin Stacey’s livelihood because of a vendetta against me. I need to find out if these two employees lit that fire to cover up that they were stealing from Stacey, and if so, where they were selling her goods. We leave in five minutes.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Several hours later, Axel and Troy dragged Stacey’s employees, Bill Rush and Hans Rudder, into the fire marshal’s office. Rush had been difficult to locate, but Pervert and Metal Man had finally found him hiding out at a relative’s place. Troy had given Pervert and Metal Man leave to return to the club, not needing their muscle.
Wren stood and scowled at as he and Axel pushed the two men into his office and shoved them into the chairs in front of Wren’s desk. He stood and barked at Troy, “It’s still Sunday, you know. What the hell’s going on?”
Mark Oliver hurried into Wren’s office, his face aghast as he surveyed the two Slayers, then the bruise marks on Stacey’s two employees. “You beat these men?”
“I haven’t laid a finger on them,” Troy said. “Did I bash you, boys?”
Rudder shook his head and stared at his feet. Rush didn’t answer.
“Thought you’d be interested in questioning these men about the fire at Miss Martin’s warehouse,” Troy said.
Axel crossed his arms, his face serious, though Troy could tell he was amused by the shocked looks on the marshals’ faces.
“You.” Troy thumped Bill Rush’s shoulder. “Why don’t you tell the marshals, here, how you convinced Miss Martin’s father to give you access to his bank account when he was dying of cancer, and how you then proceeded to rob him blind?”
Troy strolled around Wren’s desk and sat in his chair, curling his fingers into fists.
“Get out of the marshal’s chair,” Oliver ordered angrily.
“I will when I’ve finished doing his job for him,” Troy returned. “Wouldn’t want you pinning a fire on an innocent.”
Oliver’s face went puce.
Wren scowled at him.
Troy put his feet up on the desk. “Tell him what you did,” he ordered Bill.
“I…I torched Stacey’s place. She was doing an audit. She was going to report me to the police,” Rush blurted out.
Wren contemplated Rush for a moment then turned to Hans Rudder. “What was your role in this?” he asked.
“I just sold the spare parts. I didn’t do nothing else. I don’t want to go to jail,” the man wailed. “I have kids.”
Troy nodded at Axel. “Our work is done here.” He stood and strolled out from behind the desk.
“I’d say it is,” Axel replied. He clapped Troy’s shoulder as they walked to the door.
“You think we’ll actually believe confessions that were beaten out of these men?” Oliver asked with a sneer.
Troy turned, determined to keep his temper reined in. “No. I think you’re going to do your damn job.”
“You’ve got a nerve,” Oliver said.
“I did not beat them. I don’t like bruises on my hands.” He held them up to show the marshals they were bruise-free. “I’m planning to take my fiancée on a fancy date tonight, to celebrate you turning these shitheads over to the police to arrest for the arson on her property.”
“I received Miss Martin’s comprehensive email with her business accounts, order records, her audit, and a list of the stolen goods,” Wren said to his assistant. “Everything adds up.”
“Do I need to locate the stolen goods for you, too, Oliver?”
“We’ll handle this from now on,” Wren snarled.
“Good,” Troy said.
“I know you were behind that rocket launcher attack,” Oliver snapped. “One day I’ll prove it and nail your ass.”
“I’ll keep my ass to myself, thanks,” Troy said with a grin. “Better luck next
time.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Stacey was waiting for Troy at the front door, anxious and ready to pepper him with questions. He adored seeing her there and being able to calm her fears, for once, instead of creating them.
“Are you all right, Troy? It’s been hours! I’ve been worried.”
He swept her up into his arms. “It’s all going to be okay.”
The smile she gave him would light a million suns. “What is? Where have you been?”
“Pa still here?”
“No, he left when you called.”
“Good.” Troy walked to the kitchen to grab a drink while she hopped from foot to foot with impatience. They sat at the kitchen table, and he explained everything, step by step. By the time he’d finished, her eyes were wide as saucers.
“Oh, Troy, you really did make amends for kidnapping me.” She jumped up and came around to his side of the table. She sat on his knee and threw her arms around him, kissing him over and over. “Thank you!”
“You owe me a big, fat reward for fixing your problems, and I’d like to collect now. Let’s start up again where we left off this morning.”
He picked her up and carried her down the hall to the bedroom. The bed was made, and the room spick and span.
“I’ve been cleaning all morning out of nervousness. I couldn’t stop.”
He peeled off his cut, T-shirt, and jeans. He’d been riding around all morning, and the day was humid. “I need a shower. Come, join me.” He strode into the bathroom and turned on the shower. While they waited for the water to get hot, he helped her slip out of the cute little white sundress. He liked her wearing it. But he liked her even more when she wasn’t.
“I’m really upset about the arson,” Stacey said pulling off her sandals. “I didn’t realize both of my employees were stealing. Hans Rudder has a wife and kids. He was with Dad for years, and never did anything like this.”
Troy opened the shower door, keen to have her next to him. “If you want the police to go easy on him, you could put in a good word. I’m pretty sure the other one is the ringleader.”
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