Against the Fire (21 page)

Dwayne walked in—a tall, extremely handsome man with short, curly black hair, big brown eyes and a double row of thick black eyelashes any woman would envy. Mattie was developing a new appreciation for marines.

“Hey, man, long time no see.”

“Too long.” Gabe smiled as he shook his friend’s hand and they clapped each other on the back.

Just then, two small faces appeared in the hallway. When they spotted Gabe, they giggled and raced toward him. Something squeezed in Mattie’s chest as he knelt and scooped the children into his powerful arms, propping them up, one on each side, against his broad chest.

“Mattie, say hello to Cassie and Jonas.”

She walked over and shook each child’s small hand. “Hello, Cassie. Hi, Jonas. I’m Mattie. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

“Hello,” the little boy said shyly.

“How old are you?” Mattie asked. Jonas held up five fingers. “Four,” he said.

Mattie laughed. “How about you, Cassie?”

“I’m fwee.”

“Good for you, sweetie.” Mattie turned to Dwayne and Viola, who had joined them. “They’re darling children.”

Viola beamed. “Thank you. We think so, too, but then that’s what all parents think.”

Gabe set the children on their feet and Dwayne shooed them off to play in the bedroom.

“I read about the fires,” Dwayne said. “That’s a bummer, man.”

“There was another fire last night, a building I worked on a couple of years ago. The owner was killed.”

“Shit, man.”

“I know.” Gabe explained that they were tracking down any information that might lead them to the arsonist and mentioned Clay Sanders’s name.

“You gotta be shitting me. You think Clay would burn down your buildings just because Rachael is divorcing his sorry ass?”

“Did you know she moved to Dallas three months ago?”

Dwayne frowned, drawing his black eyebrows together. “She’s still here? I thought she went back to Jacksonville with Clay.”

“She’s here and they’re still getting divorced. Have you seen Clay lately?”

Dwayne set his hands on a pair of narrow hips. Like Gabe and Bo, the man was built. “I saw him two weeks ago. He said he just happened to be in town. He must have been here to see Rachael.”

“She said she hadn’t seen him since she first moved here, three months ago.”

“Oh, man.” Duane flicked a covert glance at Mattie. “You and Rachael…you aren’t still—”

“No. I didn’t even know she lived here until all of this started.”

Dwayne just nodded.

“Got any idea where I can find him?” Gabe asked.

Dwayne knuckled his bristly black hair. “When he was here we had a drink at a place called the Jolly Roger. It’s a bar off the North Tollway. The bartender seemed to know him. If he’s still in town, might be a chance you’d find him there.” He wrote down the address and handed it to Gabe.

“Thanks, Dobe.”

Dwayne drew himself up a little straighter, suddenly looking less like a father and more like the marine he had been. “You want me to go with you?”

Gabe shook his head. “We don’t even know if he’s still in Dallas.”

“You go after Clay, you’d better be careful. You know he went Force Recon?”

“I know.”

Mattie looked at the two ex-marines and a shiver ran down her spine. If these powerful men were worried about Sanders, Mattie was terrified.

“I’ll be careful,” Gabe said.

“Give me a call if you need me.”

But the set of Gabe’s jaw said he wasn’t about to involve anyone else in his troubles. He would face his problems alone, as she suspected he had been doing most of his life.

Suddenly, she was glad she was staying with him tonight. She knew what to do in bed to soothe a man’s troubles. Before she’d met Gabe, she’d had no idea there was any other kind of sex.

Tonight, maybe she could give Gabe something in return for the incredible pleasure he’d given her.

Twenty

It was Tuesday. They were driving Mattie’s silver BMW convertible with the top down. The temperature was in the eighties and the humidity had come down to tolerable. Mattie had suggested it might be nice to combine work with a little pleasure.

Which made Gabe think of making love to her last night.

The sex had been nothing short of fantastic. Mattie had wanted to take the lead, and for a while he had let her. They were naked in his king-size bed when she came up over him, tossed her russet curls over one shoulder and began to kiss her way down his chest.

For whatever reason and his good fortune, she seemed fascinated by his muscular build. Both his brothers had the lean body of an athlete, but Gabe was built like a football player, which, in high school, he had been.

Those muscles she seemed to like so much tightened with the brush of her little pink tongue across his nipple and his pulse kicked into gear.

His hand slipped into the silky hair tickling his navel, cradling her head as she trailed hot kisses over his abdomen, headed downward until she came to his steely erection.

Gabe hissed in a breath.

Her tongue wound around him, licked and tasted. “Jesus, Mattie…”

When she took him into her mouth, he fought not to come. God, she felt so good. He was hard as granite, his hips moving unconsciously as she worked over him. There wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t enjoy having a woman as beautiful and sexy as Mattie Baker doing her best to please him.

And yet there was something missing, something that had always been there when they had made love before. She wanted to soothe him, help him forget his troubles for a while, and, Jesus, she did.

But ultimately, he was a man and he liked being in charge and when he took control and rolled her beneath him, when he captured her lips in a searing kiss, Mattie’s response went from warm to burning hot. She was breathing hard, whimpering as he suckled her lovely breasts, reached down and began to stroke her.

He tried to slow things down, keep them both in a sensuous haze, but Mattie didn’t want to wait and neither did he.

He took her hard and fast, bringing her to a raging climax, then finding his own release. Afterward they fell asleep, Mattie curled in his arms.

This morning they had made love again, the attraction intense and demanding. At least for a little longer his fantasy of slow, sensual lovemaking would have to wait.

Gabe looked over at the woman behind the wheel of the convertible. Mattie was driving, taking control today, which reminded him of last night and he bit back a smile.

“What’s the address?” she asked as they wove their way through an area of expensive homes on huge manicured lots.

“Fifteen-fifteen Jefferson.” The address belonged to Artie Roser. Captain Daily had called this morning to let them know that Artie’s body had been identified from his dental plates. The news left an ache in Gabe’s chest.

“There it is.” Mattie whipped the BMW to a stop in front of an impressive brick, mansard-roofed, single-story house that had to be at least five thousand square feet.

The Rosers hadn’t lived in this house when Gabe had done the building remodel three years ago. Daily had given him the new address. Now that he saw the house, Gabe was a little surprised. In his late fifties, Artie was the kind of guy who had the first dollar he’d ever earned. Gabe wouldn’t have expected him to splurge on a place like this.

Mattie was already out of the car and waiting for him on the sidewalk as he closed his door. She untied the bright red scarf she had worn over her hair to keep it from blowing in the wind and stuffed it into her purse. In navy Capri pants, a crisp white blouse and low-heeled red sandals, she walked beside him toward the double carved front doors.

Thinking how pretty she looked with her fiery hair gleaming in the sunshine, Gabe forced his thoughts away from the night ahead. A night that would include hot, erotic sex and a soft woman sleeping in his arms.

Gabe sighed. He was in serious trouble and he knew it. Funny thing was, he refused to do a damned thing about it.

They reached the house and he rang the doorbell. He rang the bell several more times but no one answered. On a whim, he crossed the lawn to the side yard and heard laughter coming from the back of the house.

Thinking maybe he could leave a message with whoever was out there, he reached up to unlock the gate while Mattie hurried to catch up with him. They made their way along a path lined with pink flowers to the rear of the house where a huge, kidney-shaped swimming pool dominated the manicured yard.

Beneath a large covered patio, Lucille Roser stretched out on a padded lounge chair sipping a tropical drink, a floppy-brimmed hat covering her shoulder-length red hair. An attractive woman in her early forties, her flowered yellow one-piece swimsuit hid most of the few extra pounds she carried. A few feet away, a good-looking black-haired man several years her junior also sat in a lounger, holding a frosty drink.

The moment Lucy spotted Gabe, she shot to her feet, the pineapple hanging from the side of her glass tumbling onto the cement.

“What are you doing back here?” her companion asked, setting his drink aside and rising from his chair. “Who are you?”

“It’s all right, Colin.” Lucille picked up a terry-cloth robe and slipped it on over her swimsuit. “We’ve met somewhere, haven’t we? I’m afraid with all that’s happened your name seems to have escaped me.”

“Gabriel Raines. I did the remodel on your husband’s clothing store a few years back.”

“Of course. Now I remember.”

Strangely, he had the feeling she had known who he was the moment he’d set foot on the patio. “This is my friend, Mattie Baker. We came by to express our condolences on the loss of your husband. I didn’t mean to intrude.” Because he hadn’t expected to find Artie’s widow entertaining poolside two days after his death. “I just wanted to leave word with someone that I had stopped by.”

“I appreciate that,” Lucy said. “This is my attorney, Colin Royce.” She glanced down at the robe covering her swimsuit. “I hope you don’t think I’m being disrespectful…”

“We all grieve in different ways,” Mattie said.

“Colin…Mr. Royce and I needed to talk about the estate. I thought it would be better if we were outside in the sunshine rather than sitting inside swamped with memories.”

“I understand,” Gabe said. “I liked your husband. I just wanted you to know that if there is anything at all you need—”

“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Raines.” She turned to Mattie. “A pleasure meeting you, Ms. Baker.”

“You as well, Mrs. Roser.”

Gabe left the pair on the patio and walked Mattie back to the car.

“Not exactly the grieving widow,” she said as she slid behind the steering wheel, dragged the red scarf out of her purse, swept it over her head and tied it beneath her chin.

“Not exactly.”

“She knew who you were from the start. I saw it in her eyes when she spotted you.”

“I thought so, too.”

She fired up the powerful BMW engine, turned and cast him a glance. “You and Mrs. Roser…the two of you were never—”

“God, no.”

Mattie looked relieved. “I just thought maybe… You know that old saying about a woman scorned.”

“Yeah, I know it. In this case, it doesn’t apply.” But it did apply to Rachael Sanders. Worry about Clay settled heavily on his chest.

“Where to from here?” Mattie asked.

“No place until tonight. Then I thought I’d stop in at the Jolly Roger, see if Clay might show up.”

“Good idea.”

He caught her determined expression and firmly shook his head. “Forget it. I’m not taking you with me. If Clay is there and he’s involved in this mess—”

“If Clay Sanders is the arsonist, you show up looking for him and he spots you, he’ll realize you’ve figured out he’s the man setting the fires and he’s liable to run. Let me go in, ask a few questions. If he’s there, we can call the police. If he isn’t, maybe the bartender will know where to find him.”

“No way. Besides, if he’s been watching me, he might have seen you, too.”

“He won’t recognize me—I promise. In the meantime, while you’re thinking about it and coming to your senses, I need to go to work.”

“I thought you took the week off.”

“I did, but there are a couple of projects I need to check on. If I stay on top of them, it’s going to be a lot easier to play catch-up when I go back to the office. And I want to go by the hospital.”

Gabe nodded. “All right. I need to do some work myself. Sam’s good, but I don’t expect him to handle everything by himself.”

“Great. I’ll drop you back at your condo so you can get your truck then meet you back there later.”

“Deal, but promise me you won’t go anywhere else and you’ll be careful.”

“Bet on it, big guy.”

Gabe leaned over and kissed her.

After dropping Gabe off, Mattie stopped by her apartment to feed and check on Tigger and pick up something to wear to the Jolly Roger. She was sure she could find a way to convince Gabe to let her go with him and, dressed as Lena Sterling, Sanders wasn’t likely to recognize her even if he had seen her with Gabe. She bent down to give Tigger a final chin rub and the phone began to ring.

Mattie walked over and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

She could hear music in the background and what might have been the sound of someone breathing. A little trickle of fear slipped through her as the person on the end of the line hung up the phone.

The first three or four times it had happened, she hadn’t been concerned. The person on the other end never said anything threatening, just seemed to be listening to the sound of her voice.

But lately, with all that had been happening, the calls were beginning to make her nervous. She had done a lot of volunteer work at the center. Some of the kids she came in contact with were pretty rough. Was it one of them? Or did it have something to do with the fires?

After leaving her apartment, she stopped by the Family Recovery Center. She wanted to find out if any of the other volunteers had reported receiving prank calls.

“Not as far as I know,” the young black-haired receptionist, Sophie Dominquez, said. “If anybody’s been getting calls, they haven’t mentioned it. You’re thinking it might be someone you met down here?”