Flashback (4 page)

From the other side of her cubicle curtain came a rustling, and then the hair at the back of her neck suddenly stood up, as if she was being watched. Opening her eyes, she blinked the room into focus. Everything was white and…
blurry
. But not so much so that she missed the back of a guy's head as he ran off and out of sight. “Hey!”

He hadn't been wearing scrubs but a red T-shirt, so he couldn't have been hospital staff. Who'd come to see her and then leave without a word? She struggled to think but she was so tired, and a little woozy still, and when she let her eyes drift shut, she ended up dozing off…

 

“N
OT THE SAME TYPE
of point of origin as the other fires.”

Kenzie opened her eyes and turned her head, taking in the curtain, now pulled all the way closed around her cot. She was a woman who liked change, who in fact thrived on it, but she had to say, she didn't like this change. Not at all.

How much time had passed?

“So you're saying what, Tommy, that the chief has you on a gag order?”

Oh, boy.
She didn't need to peek around the curtain to know
that
voice. That voice had once been the stuff of her daydreams, of her greatest fantasies. That voice had used to melt her bones away and rev her engines.

Aidan.

“I'm not saying anything,” Tommy said. “Except what I told Zach weeks ago. I'm on this. It's a kid glove case. So you need to back off.”

“I want to see Kenzie when she wakes up.”

He'd
been the one who'd looked in on her? She didn't know how she felt about that. Had he seen her sleeping? Had she been snoring?

Why hadn't he come back when she called out?

“Tell me this much at least,” Aidan said, presumably still to Tommy. “Did either you or the chief even know Blake had a boat?”

“No, but I was waiting on a full investigative report from the county, and it would have shown up on there.”

“And then you would've what, seized the property as evidence?”

“Yes, of course. To search it, just like we've done with his house. All the current evidence regarding the case points to Blake being in on the arson.”

In on the arson.
Kenzie absorbed the odd choice of words. Did he mean that he thought there could be more than one arsonist?

“So who beat you to the boat, Tommy? Who wanted to make sure there was no chance of extracting any evidence from it?”

The answer actually gave Kenzie hope—because it meant that someone
else
could possibly be proven to be responsible for the arsons, maybe even someone who'd framed Blake.

“There's been at least seven highly destructive fires,” Tommy said. “Adding up to millions of dollars in damages. The chief's ass is on the line, and so is mine. If Blake was still alive, he'd be behind bars. That he's not doesn't change anything. The investigation is ongoing.”

“But it's possible he was working with someone,” came Aidan's voice. “Is that what you're saying?”

“No comment.”

“Do you know who?”

“No comment.”

“You know something's off, Tommy, or you wouldn't be here.”

“Yes,” the investigator agreed tightly. “Something is off, and…”

Their voices lowered to a whisper. She leaned toward the curtain, but they were talking so quietly now she couldn't hear anything but…her name. Definitely, she'd heard her name.

Why were they talking about her?

She scooted even closer to the edge of the cot and cocked an ear, but still couldn't hear anything.
Dammit!
Blake couldn't have done any of those things they'd accused him of. She knew it, and she was going to prove it herself if necessary, starting with eavesdropping on this conversation. Tommy said something Kenzie couldn't quite catch, so she leaned even further, and—

Fell off the cot to the floor.
“Ouch.”

At the commotion, the curtain whipped open. She tried to push herself upright but with one wrist useless and the other pinned beneath her, she was pretty much a beached fish. A nearly naked beached fish, with her butt facing a crowd of three: Tommy, the nurse and, oh, perfect—Aidan. She could see the tabloids now: Ex-Soap Star Mackenzie Caught Panty-less. “Ouch,” she said again and rolled to her back, gasping when the cold linoleum hit her bare backside. She sighed just as someone dropped to his knees at her side, and then Aidan's face swam into her vision.

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

Sure.
Sure, she was okay. If she didn't think about the fact that she'd just mooned him.

“Here.” After helping him get her back on the cot, the nurse fussed a moment, checking all of Kenzie's various injuries. Luckily, Tommy had backed out of the room, vanishing, for now at least.

“What the hell were you doing?” Aidan demanded when the nurse left them alone, too.

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that—” Realizing her gown was twisted very high up on her thighs—which, of course, was nothing to what he'd just seen—she grabbed her blanket and tried to cover herself up. A little like closing the barn door after the horse had escaped, she knew, but she was mortified. Except the movement made her want to throw up, and she reached up, holding her head tightly.

“Here.” He took over the task of covering her, quickly extricating his hands when he was done, not quite meeting her gaze as he sat at her side.

Awkward moment…“So,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking in on you.”

Yep. And he'd gotten to look in on far more than he'd probably intended.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Depends on your definition of
all right
.”

At that, his eyes cut to hers and he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, his fingers rasping over the growth there. He looked and sounded exhausted. “I'm sorry, Kenzie.”

“For what? That I just mooned you, or that I'm here at all?”

Aidan got to his feet, pulling the curtain shut again to give them privacy, privacy that she wasn't sure she wanted.

He'd changed his clothes. He wore a pair of jeans now, loose on his long legs, low on his hips, with a long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned over a gray T-shirt that seemed to emphasize his broad shoulders and tough, athletic build. “Your shirt isn't red,” she said slowly.

“What?”

“Before, somebody in a red shirt was looking at me.”

“When?”

“I don't know.” She rubbed her temples. “I'm out of it.”

“It was a tough night.”

“Yeah.” But
he
didn't look like he'd just worked his ass off and managed to save her life to boot; he looked casual, relaxed.

Cool as a cucumber.

And so hauntingly familiar, not to mention gorgeous, that she couldn't keep her eyes on him. How unfair was it that he'd gotten even better-looking with age? “Thanks for stopping by, Aidan, but you can see I'm fine. You can go.”

He looked doubtful.

“Seriously. I'm really okay.”

She almost had him, she could tell, but then she ruined it by shivering.

Without a word, he grabbed another blanket and settled it over her. She appreciated his sense of duty, but what she would appreciate even more would be his vanishing.

Or her.

Yeah, that might be better. If she could just vanish on the spot.
Poof.
“Okay, now I'm good, thanks. Really.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I mean you can't even look at me, so—”

Lifting his head, he met her eyes, his hot enough to singe her skin.

“Oh,” she breathed, feeling her heart kick, hard.

“I can't look at you?” he repeated in low disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Kenzie, I can't do anything
but
look at you.”

A
T
A
IDAN'S WORDS
, Kenzie's breath caught and held. She didn't know how to take him, especially the way he was looking at her, as if maybe he could see all the way through her, to her heart and soul, right to the very center of her being, where all the hurt was so carefully bottled up.

She'd gotten over him. Years ago. She really had. She'd gotten over how he'd once made her laugh, made her think, made her happy…

Made her come…

No way could he possibly reach her now. Not with that hard body, not with the look in his eyes and definitely not with the memories.

Okay, maybe the memories got to her, just a little bit. For one glorious summer, he'd been the best part of her life—before he'd walked away without so much as a glance back, that is.

Good. There
was her anger, which would hopefully negate the fact that he was standing right here in the flesh looking good enough to…well…That thought made her want to sweat. But apparently she could be both over him and turned on by him at the same time, which confused her to say the least. She had no idea what that was about. No idea at all.

None.

She'd moved on years ago from that young, sweet, innocent girl. Now she was a woman with a backbone of sheer steel that had gotten her through some tough times.

She knew people tended to look at her carefully cultivated outer package—thank you, stylist to the stars—an outer package that was petite and willowy, even fragile-looking, and completely underestimate her.

But on the inside she was one-hundred-percent survivor, thank you very much. She'd lived through losing her parents early, through a happy-as-it-could-be teenage-hood with just Blake. She'd lived through being in the public eye, through the ups and downs of TV fame and most recently, through the death of her brother. All of that would have cracked most women, but she wasn't easily cracked.

She would get to the bottom of this mess, no matter what she had to do in order to get there.
No matter what.
Even if she had to use her beauty, her checking account, her damn body.

She would do it.

Whatever it took.

For Blake.

“I heard you talking to the investigator,” she said softly.

Aidan's eyes met hers, and she wished like hell she could read his mind. But she couldn't, and he didn't say another word to help.

“I think he's wondering if I'm guilty of something.”

He just looked at her some more.

“The only thing I'm guilty of is knowing that he hasn't done his job if he thinks Blake did those things.”

At that, his face softened, and regret filled his eyes, along with a grimness that had her shaking her head before he even spoke.

“Don't say it,” she warned, not willing to hear it, not from him. Not from anyone. Not when she was this close to a breakdown. A grief breakdown. “Don't.” She
knew
Blake, goddammit. She did. She didn't remember much about her parents before they'd died in a car crash, but she remembered Blake. Every bit of him. He was the boy who'd held her hand every time they'd had to move to a new foster home. He was the teenager who'd punched a boy in the face when he'd hurt her, he was the man who'd believed in her enough to work double shifts to pay for her publicity shots so she could pursue her acting dream.

He could
never
have committed arson. She'd have sworn Aidan would have known that as well, but apparently she was wrong.

“There's evidence—” he began, but she shook her head.

“Circumstantial.” She swallowed hard but a lump of emotion, the one that had been there since Blake's death, remained. “I see that you're no better a friend than you were a boyfriend.”

He opened his mouth, but before he could respond, the nurse pulled aside the curtain and entered the cubicle, followed by a doctor. “Everyone out,” the nurse ordered.

“I'm the only one here,” Aidan said.

“So get out,” the nurse responded sweetly.

Kenzie closed her eyes and lay back. She didn't look at Aidan again; in fact, she didn't open her eyes until she heard the rustling of the curtain, signaling he'd left.

Which was fine. Perfect, really. Because she'd sure as hell rather be alone than look into his eyes and see things she didn't want to see.

 

A
IDAN EXITED
the emergency room, feeling like a class-A jerk. Though how that was possible, what with his saving her life and all, he had no idea….

Okay, he knew.

She'd seen the look in his eyes; she'd understood something she hadn't wanted to understand—that he knew Blake was involved with those arson fires.

Aidan felt torn up about it, sick over it, but facts were facts. Blake had been placed at the scene of each arson by various witnesses. He had been depressed since losing Lynn, his partner before Cristina, in a fire the year before. His home had been seized and searched, and in his garage they'd found a stack of wire mesh trash cans, similar to the ones identified as the point of origin in each of the arsons.

Most damning, Aidan's partner, Zach, had also seen him holding a blowtorch just moments after Zach's house had been set on fire, with Zach and Brooke inside. Zach had almost died there.

And Blake
had
died there, perhaps deliberately. He'd died, leaving all of them, Zach, Aidan and the other firefighters, even Tracy, the woman he'd had such a crush on, everyone, destroyed.

Kenzie was in denial. He got that. She was angry. He got that, too. She needed someone to vent that anger at, to place it on, and he'd been handy enough.

I see that you're no better a friend than you were a boyfriend.

Yeah, that had been a direct hit. Having her look at him as if
he
was the bad guy had really gotten to him, especially considering he still had the scrapes and bruises from saving her.

The late afternoon sun was sinking fast, cooling off the day. Having been up for two straight days now, he desperately needed sleep. He could close his eyes standing up right there in the hospital lot, and not wake up if a cyclone hit. He was so tired that he'd probably sleep completely dreamless. Well, except for maybe dreaming about Kenzie's bare ass. Yeah, now that he'd seen that again, he'd most likely dream about it for a good many hours.

Days.

Years.

“Aidan.”

Hell.
Tommy was leaning up against Aidan's truck, a file in his hands, mouth pinched tight, looking as if he had plenty of things to say, and all fantasies about Kenzie's ass vanished. “What now?”

“I wasn't aware that you knew her personally.”

“Who?”

“Come on, Aidan. Don't play with me. Mackenzie Stafford. You didn't say that you knew her.”

He sighed. “So?”

“So it felt to me like maybe you knew her…
well
.”

“Yeah. Once upon a time.”

“Okay, and so once upon a time, did you know she was Blake's sister?”

Getting into tricky territory here. No one had known he and Kenzie had dated in the past. It'd been a quick, hot thing,
very
hot, and he certainly hadn't been in any hurry to tell Blake he'd gotten his sister in bed. Kenzie hadn't told Blake, either, for her own reasons, and then when Kenzie had gone off to Los Angeles, it hadn't mattered anymore.

Did it matter now, with Blake dead? He couldn't see how it did. “Yeah, I knew she was Blake's sister.”

“Did you know that boat was Blake's?”

“Where are we going with this, Tommy?”

“Did you?”

Aidan let out a breath. “Not until we were in the water and she told me.”

Tommy nodded. “Because you always sit around with someone you're rescuing and chat about property ownership.”

“I asked her why she was there, on that boat. I was under the impression that she was in Los Angeles.”

“Yeah?” Tommy's eyes studied him, considering. “So just how well do you know her?”

“Irrelevant.”

“I wonder if Blake would have thought so.”

Aidan fished his keys out of his pocket. “I'm going home to sleep. For many, many hours. When I'm back on duty you can drill me all you want. Maybe I'll be able to think more clearly.”

“Maybe I don't want you thinking more clearly.”

“And what the hell does that mean?”

“It means I need answers now. Did you know she was staying on the boat? Did you maybe visit with her there before the fire?”

“I told you. No. And no.”

“Ms. Stafford thinks Blake is innocent. That he was not only framed but possibly murdered, and she intends to prove it.”

Sounded right.
Kenzie might look like a pretty ball of fluff, but she had sharp wits and was loyal to a fault. She also had the tenacity of a bulldog. Once she got her brain wrapped around an idea, there was nothing anyone could do to change her mind. Not about falling in love with him, not about being an actress and most definitely not about believing that Blake couldn't be guilty of arson.

“So the question stands,” Tommy said quietly. “How well do you know her?”

“Did.” Well enough that when he'd looked into her eyes, he'd felt an odd stirring, a sensation almost like coming home. Yeah, once upon a time he'd known her well. As well as he'd known anyone. “Past tense.”

“Good enough.”

“For what?”

“To get you to tell her to stay the hell out of this investigation and not interfere.”

“People don't tell Kenzie what to do.”

“You're going to. Because the chief has put out the word. If anyone hinders this investigation, we'll have them arrested, Blake's sister or not.”

Great. Perfect.
If Aidan told her that, she'd jump in with both feet, because one thing he remembered and remembered well—nothing scared her. Nothing. “Seriously. It's not a good idea for me to tell her anything.”

“Well, then, I hope she has bail money.”

Shit.
Aidan watched Tommy walk away, then he turned to his truck. Needing sustenance before he passed out cold for at least the next twelve hours straight, he stopped at Sunrise, the café that was the perpetual hangout for everyone at the station. The two-story building was right on the beach. Downstairs was food central, while the second floor was the living quarters for Sheila, the owner. The rooftop was the place to go to view the mountains, the ocean, the entire world it seemed, and to think.

Stepping inside, his sense of smell immediately filled with all the aromas he associated with comfort: coffee, burgers, pies…Sheila smiled at him, and as the sixty-two-year-old always did, fawned over him as he imagined a mother would.

His own mother wasn't too into fawning, at least not over him. She'd divorced his father when Aidan had been two, and he'd spent most of his childhood years being shuffled from family member to family member while she'd relived her wild youth. Granted, he'd been more than a handful of trouble, purposely going after it in a pathetic bid for attention, so in hindsight he didn't blame anyone for not keeping him around for long.

Eventually, he'd ended back up at his dad's, where the two of them had spent a few years doing their best to tolerate each other until, when Aidan had been fifteen, his dad had remarried and promptly given his new wife three babies in a row.

Aidan had landed at his mom's once again, a little bit rebellious and a lot angry, but by then his mother had settled down some, remarrying as well.

Now Aidan had five half brothers and sisters, and didn't quite belong on either side of the family.

Not that he'd had it as rough as Blake and Kenzie had. He knew exactly why the brother and sister had been as close as they had, and exactly why Kenzie would fight tooth and nail to prove her brother's innocence.

What he didn't know was how to convince her to let the law handle things, or if he even had a right to ask such a thing of her.

Between a rock and a hard place.

He ate his fill, and by the time he set down his fork, he felt halfway human. He still needed his bed, badly, but with Tommy's words echoing in his head, he knew he had to try to talk to Kenzie again first. He needed to warn her to let Tommy do his job. For old times' sake.

Or so he told himself.

He pulled out his cell phone and called the hospital, but was told she'd been released.

Where would she go? Back to Los Angeles? No, she wouldn't leave Santa Rey, not until she did what she'd come to do, which was prove Blake's innocence, so he asked Sheila for the local phone book and a slice of key lime pie, both of which he took up to the roof. Sitting facing the ocean, he began calling. But as it turned out, Kenzie wasn't registered at any of the three hotels in the area, probably because there were two conventions in town and everything was fully booked. He looked at the remaining list of several dozen motels and B and Bs, and sighed. He'd made his way through the most likely candidates when Sheila came out on the roof with a fresh mug of coffee.