An Inner Fire (25 page)

“What’s going to happen when Davis finds out? What will you tell him?”

“Maybe I’ll never have to tell him. Maybe it’s all in my imagination.”

“Like the guy knocking you down the stairs or burning down the shed—that’s all in your imagination.”

“I need to protect Davis. It’s all I know.”

“I think you should tell Davis.”

She shook her head. “I plan to tell him once I’m sure the assistant chief isn’t involved. Can you see what would happen if I tried to tell him I saw a scar on his boss’ arm from a vision from his dog?”

“When you put it like that, it does sound a bit flakey.”

“Flakey? I think it would be called clinically psychotic.”

James snickered.

“Will you help me?”

“I’ll have to start working out.” James pretended no interest in fitness, but he was a gym rat. After the years of being under his father’s power, he would never defer to another man’s force.

“How can I find out about Maclean?”

“I’ll Google him. I might find something, but I doubt it. He has a position to uphold for the fire department. Didn’t you say that Hollie is a computer whiz? Why don’t you have her do a search?”

“Great idea.”

“And we can follow him.”

“Follow him?”

“While Hollie’s getting the lowdown, we’ll just tail him for a few days; see if he’s up to something.”

“Tail him, how?”

“I’ll drive. You’ll have to wear sunglasses and maybe a scarf, like Grace Kelly in
To Catch a Thief.
How about a wig?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” James answered with dramatic flair, his head thrown back with insouciance, as if the movie cameras were rolling.

“Okay, no Grace Kelly how about Angela Lansbury, or Miss Jane Marple?”

“This isn’t a movie. This is real life.”

“I’ll call the fire department at the end of the day and find out when he leaves his office and we’ll follow him from work.”

“God, you’re scary.”

James gave a wide unrepentant smile. “Thank you. I’d like to think so.”

“Is it legal to follow someone?”

“Legal? Someone knocks you down the stairs, and they want to kill Davis?”

“This is too crazy.”

“Do you have another plan to get evidence that Davis will believe?”

“I haven’t thought it through.”

“Besides, I don’t think it’s illegal. How do all those private detectives do it in divorce cases?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Are you going to involve Hollie in the sleuthing?”

“No. I’ve learned my lesson after Belltown. These guys are serious.”

“So you’re willing to risk my life?”

“James don’t joke. You’re the only one I can trust.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Davis checked his watch for the third time. Patience wasn’t his strong suit. Five more minutes and he might explode. He had the urge to punch something or someone, preferably the someone who had the balls to break into his office.

“Lieutenant Davis, come in. Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve been on the phone with reporters. The fate of the Alki is the story of the day. Hundreds have been protesting against junking the old fireboat.” Ms. Ferette showed her sharp little teeth in imitation of a smile. “I know how busy you investigators are.”

Davis had only spoken to Julie Ferette by phone. Her tailored suit, pearl necklace, and painted nails, the uniform of a bureaucrat, meant he was in trouble. Ms. Ferette wouldn’t be easy to convince to deviate from department policy and procedures.

“No problem.”

“There must be something important to bring you downtown. How can I help you?” There was another flash of spiky teeth.

“I need you to agree that everything I tell you will be kept completely confidential.”

Ms. Ferette’s eyes, heavy with painted dark lines, widened. Her expression resembled the surprised look of a raccoon caught in the act of pilfering from your garbage can.

“If I can.” She ran her red nails on her cheek.

“My office was broken into last night. My computer was hacked. Pictures and the files from my current investigation were stolen.”

She stiffened in the straight back chair. “How is that possible? Key cards are assigned for office access. Every entry and exit is registered.”

“I need the name of the guy who entered my office.”

“No one has access but department employees.”

“Exactly.” He leaned forward, purposely crowding her. “I want this kept quiet. No one is to know.”

“I need to notify the chief and then the police.”

“Give me a little time before you bring everyone in. Let me get to the guy before he can cover his tracks.”

Her little teeth gnawed on her lower lip.

He pitched his voice low, suggesting every bureaucrat’s worst fear. “It’ll save the department a public scandal and prevent a lot of questions about your security system if I bring the guy in quietly.”

“I’ll get my IT person on it.”

“Call this number. It’s my cell. Once you give me the name, you can do whatever you need to do.”

Ferette let out an exaggerated breath. “This is most irregular. I’ll need to…uh…”

“Just give me the guy’s name before you report him. I’ll be happy to report to the chief once I’ve nailed his sorry…. Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

Ferette stood. “Forms will need to be filled out.”

“I’m used to paperwork.”

* * *

Davis proceeded down the hill to Pioneer Square. Someone with access to the department’s server had rifled through his office and removed the shed files and pictures. The perp hadn’t known the FI’s procedure of uploading all fireground pictures onto a disc.

The file contents were routine, with one exception. It contained Grayce’s personal information. Had they stolen the file for the information about her? How could he warn her to be careful and report anything suspicious without frightening her?

He needed to report the break-in to the chief and discuss when to bring in the feds for the possible drug smuggling. But when he spoke with the chief, he would lose control of the investigation. He wanted the bastard’s name before he turned over the case. The bottom line—he wasn’t going to trust Grayce’s safety to the feds, to strangers.

Davis stopped in front of his building. How was he supposed to greet everyone, when they were all suspects? He felt the tick of his tightly clenched jaw.

Everyone in the department knew he would be able to track the key card owner. Either he was dealing with a skilled idiot or a mastermind.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Davis lifted Grayce’s hand from his chest and kissed her palm. She draped an arm and a leg over him as if to shield him, sighed and slept on.

His plan had been to invite her for dinner and then warn her she might be in danger. He wasn’t going to tell her about the break-in. He didn’t want to alarm her, just make her aware that the investigation had heated up. Things could get nasty. Instead, they had eaten a snack in bed after amazing sex.

He peeled himself out of her embrace. She mumbled something, then reached for him without waking. He had considered putting some distance between them until the investigation was finished. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t stay away from her. And besides, he could protect her if she were close-by.

Mitzi slept at Grayce’s feet and didn’t stir when he left the room. Mitzi had made her loyalties clear. She hadn’t left Grayce’s side.

Davis sat on the couch with his laptop and studied each fire scene picture. Someone had found them threatening. The first time the pictures disappeared he had thought it was a technical glitch. When the pictures disappeared a second time, he started to get suspicious.

“Davis?”

Grayce stood in the doorway wearing his shirt. Mitzi stood behind her. A surge of possessiveness hit him in the gut. He wanted Grayce Walters to belong to him and only him.

“How long have I been asleep?” She stretched her arms over her head. He watched his shirt hike up to reveal her thighs, high enough to tantalize, high enough to cause heat to pool under his clothes, under his skin.

“Three hours.”

“Wow, I was really out. I had no idea I was so tired.”

“My fault. I didn’t plan on a workout when I invited you for dinner.”

A patch of red appeared on each cheek. A woman who blushed, a woman with no artifice. How had he gotten so lucky?

“Are you working?”

“I was.” He stood. He wanted to go back to bed and do all the things they had done to each other and more. Desire drummed through him in a slow, steady beat. With her hair sleep-tousled around her shoulders, she looked like the cover of Maxim, like every hot-blooded male’s fantasy.

He pulled her into his arms. She smelled of lemon and warm, sleepy woman.

“Are you hungry?”

“I am, but you keep working. I’ll fix something.”

“I’m hungry, too.” He leaned down, taking bites of her earlobe, nipping at her neck. “So tasty.”

He started to remove her shirt when her stomach growled loudly.

“I guess I’m pretty hungry.”

“I did promise you dinner.” He pulled her by the hand to the kitchen. Her fingers linked with his felt right. The two of them felt right. It was strange to have the roles reversed. Women always brought up to the topic of commitment at this point. For the first time, he wanted to have the
c-word
discussion.

“More wine?” Their unfinished second bottle of wine sat on the counter.

“That would be great.”

“There’s still salmon. Can I reheat it?”

“I like it cold.”

“Sit down. Let me serve you.”

“I can help.”

“I like taking care of you.”

“Your dinner was great.”

“I can do steaks and salmon. Sprinkle with a rub and grill. Quite the gourmet.”

Grayce moved next to him and cut the bread. She fed him a crusty piece. He licked her fingers one by one. He was as winded as if he had climbed to Camp Muir. He rested his chin on her head, trying to regulate his breathing. Mitzi got up and nosed her way between them.

Grayce asked, “What do you want, girl?”

Mitzi held her nose in the air and sniffed.

“Davis, do you give Mitzi bread?”

Mitzi yelped.

“I feel bad if she’s not eating when I’m eating.”

Mitzi gazed up at Davis, her dark eyes beseeching.

“I swear she knows I feel guilty.”

Grayce cut a small piece and gave it to Mitzi. “You’re such an actress.”

Mitzi licked Grayce’s fingers. He and Mitzi both had the same need to taste Grayce.

“Do you want salad and salmon?”

“I’ll have both.”

“For such a small woman, you sure can pack away the food.”

“I burned quite a few calories tonight.”

The heat started to gather under his skin again. “Should we eat at the table for a change?” He liked making her blush. He carried the wine and glasses.

Grayce searched in the cupboard for the plates. “Davis, I didn’t know you carried a gun.”

“I don’t usually.”

“Why now?” Her voice sharpened.

“It’s the reason I wanted you to come to dinner.”

“To show me your gun?” Her voice and eyes were lit with mischief.

Now, he was blushing.

Mitzi moved to lie under Grayce’s chair. Grayce bent over and patted Mitzi, giving him an eyeful of her round luscious breasts. Desire drove through his body like the leader on a NASCAR racetrack. This need to keep touching, to get closer, to know someone intimately was new.

He leaned down, their faces close. “I can’t resist you, Grayce Walters. They’re going to have to put that on my gravestone.
The man who couldn’t resist Grayce Walters
.”

She ran her tongue over his lips. “I taste Merlot. Let me see if I can taste the salmon.” She pushed her tongue into his mouth.

An erotic thrum traveled through him. “Grayce I want…I want…”

“I want it too. The feeling’s mutual, Davis.”

Grayce sat back in her chair and flipped the thick curls over her shoulder, looking young and innocent. “But first, tell me why you’re carrying a gun.”

Some bastard had access to Grayce’s home and work addresses. Maybe he should tell her.

As if Mitzi understood his need to protect Grayce, she placed her head on Grayce’s lap. Grayce spoke to the poodle in a low soothing voice. Mitzi nuzzled deeper. He and Mitzi did think alike.

Mitzi could stay with Grayce and guard her when he couldn’t be with Grayce. The poodle had already proven herself as a ferocious watchdog.

“You’re looking very serious.” Grayce sat up in the chair, putting her feet on the ground, her playfulness gone. “What is it, Davis?”