Home Is Where the Heat Is (33 page)

“Um… is that how you answer my phone?” Alex’s question snapped some sense into her.

“Oh sorry.” Claire expelled the breath she’d been holding. “I have a lot on my mind this morning.”

“Don’t bring your personal life to work.” He cleared his throat as if choking on his own advice. “I had a breakfast meeting with Judge Reynolds, so I’ll be in shortly. Anything need my immediate attention?”

“Uh… let me check.” She swept the arson file under a stack of documents on her desk. “No, nothing important.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

She kicked herself for lying to her boss—an assistant district attorney—but she couldn’t tell him about the case until she had more answers. The report seemed incomplete and vague. She had to find more details. A quick internet search of local news outlets revealed little.
What does Alex do when he needs information not yet public?

Claire grabbed her phone and called Will.

“Mornin’ beautiful, how are you?” The smile in his voice grated her nerves.

“I need answers.”

He shifted gears from flirtatious to focused. “How can I help?”

“Alex got a new case this morning, but the police report is incomplete.”

“What’s the case number?”

She retrieved the file from its hiding place. “COA-011214B.”

His keyboard clicked. “That’s an arson case, darlin’. Not my department.”

Cheese and double fudge!
“Can you ask some questions, maybe find out if they’re pursuing any other suspects?”

“Yeah, I can do that, but why? Does Alex have reason to believe they arrested the wrong guy?”

No, but I do.
“He’s just being thorough.”

Will laughed. “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out.” He paused, then lowered his voice. “How are you, Claire? Have you talked to your Vegas boyfriend?”

Her lip quivered and her eyes stung. “Not yet. It’s complicated.” She wanted to call him—wanted to reach out and ask him to be patient with her—but most of all, she wanted to pull JT close and tell him she missed him.

“That’s what you told me on the ride home.”

“Well, it just got freaking impossible.” If Alex prosecuted her boyfriend, the man she—yes—loved, she wouldn’t be allowed to help with the case. Could she lose her job over this?
It doesn’t matter. At all.

“Sounds like you have a challenge on your hands.” Someone yelled Will’s name in the background. “I gotta go. Call me if you need anything.”

She nodded as the call clicked silent. He’d find the information she needed, but she couldn’t ask what she really wanted to know.
Where is JT?

Not knowing what else to do, she picked up her phone and checked the call list in case she’d missed something while talking to Will, but nothing.
Is he still in jail?
She tapped out a text message, pressed send, then dropped her phone in her purse as Alex walked in the door.

He nodded at the file on her desk. “Is that a new case?”

She glanced down at the folder and pasted a smile on her face as she handed it to him. “It just came in.” Her voice held steady but her hand trembled.

He flipped through the documents and picked up the coffee-stained page. “What happened here?”

“Coffee too hot. Burned my tongue.” She clamped her unscalded mouth shut.

He shook his head. “Be careful with that.” He turned another page and wandered into his office.

Another lie!
Claire slumped down on her desk and sobbed. She sifted through her remaining choices and discarded them all. Only one person could help JT—the same one who had the power to convict him. She stood and straightened her skirt, then knocked on Alex’s door and walked in without waiting for an answer.

“What’s up?” He raised his eyebrows as she closed the door behind her.

“I need your help.”

***

As expected, the burned out owner cancelled his contract with JT. As expected, prospective clients shunned his company as soon as news of his arrest hit. What he hadn’t expected was that the police would hold onto his truck as evidence. They’d grilled him for hours, pestering him with questions he couldn’t answer. Janet Cox, his lawyer, had given him a ride home after she’d posted bail, advising him not to speak to the press while the case was under investigation.

Sleep eluded him while uncertainty cast doubt on his every decision, every choice made or not made. He wanted to blame fate for his current predicament, but luck hadn’t stuck around long enough to accept responsibility.

He’d showered, trying to wash off the soot and grime the fire and the interrogation had left behind. The chain holding his lucky arrowhead had turned black, and he scrubbed and rinsed it until it sparkled again.

Hot water turned cold, so he turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and lit the fireplace, almost smiling when he remembered Claire’s fascination with it. His body ached, longing for her touch. She’d know how to comfort him. Hell, just having her here would add life and warmth to his cold, empty house. He needed her, and he couldn’t wait for her any longer.

JT pulled on some clean clothes then retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket. He clenched the cleansed arrowhead in his fist and called Claire.

She didn’t answer. Why would she? He hung up without leaving a message. His screen flashed the time: five a.m. He turned off his phone and sat alone in his gigantic living room, glued to his favorite chair and staring at a black TV screen until the rest of the world woke up and started its day. The daytime heat setting kicked in but it failed to penetrate the numbing cold gripping his heart. He’d be perfectly content to stay there, watching life go on without him. Claire obviously had.

But something inside him refused to sit still and die. His old survival instinct, born during his parent’s divorce and raised by his mother’s rejection, kicked and screamed at him.
Do something!

So he rented a car and drove to work, not knowing what he’d do when he got there, but comforted that at least he’d taken action. Linda was scrambling to prevent the police from taking their confidential files, but the warrant allowed them to confiscate anything that might’ve been evidence, so JT stood by and let the officers walk out with his computer, the entire filing cabinet, and his trash can.

“What the hell happened?” Linda slammed the front door shut and locked it. “I saw the news, but why’d they arrest you?”

“I was in the wrong place at the right time.” He slumped into his unsympathetic leather chair.
Why didn’t the cops take that?

“Did you start the fire?”

He’d faced that question too many times already, and answered it through clenched teeth. “No.”

“I know. I’m sorry I asked.” She walked behind his desk and offered him a hug. “I’ve known you since you started with Hodge. You’ve always done the right thing, no matter what.”

JT stood and let Linda wrap her arms around his shoulders, drawing strength from her warm affection. Obviously he’d lost control of his career. The company would be better off without his presence. “Can you take care of the office for a while? I’m going to take a leave of absence until….” He shrugged. “Whenever this gets resolved.”

“Don’t worry about a thing.” She patted his back and sent him home.

The towering walls echoed with his footsteps as he wandered around the house, trying to decide what to do. He pulled the fridge open then closed it.
I need food.
But a yawn drained him, so he headed for the coffee maker instead and put on a pot.

The rich aroma perked him up enough to turn on his phone while the coffee brewed. Eighteen missed calls, fifteen voicemails, and five texts.
Holy shit.
A new call rang through and the screen lit up with his sister’s name.

“Hi Kaylee.”

“Finally you answer! What the hell is going on?”

He could picture what she looked like frustrated—wild blue eyes and messed up hair the same color as his. Dirty dishes and scattered cereal boxes probably littered the kitchen table as she rushed to get the kids to school. She’d have waited until they were gone to talk to him.

You saw the news?”

“Of course. How could I miss it?” Her volume lowered a notch. “Did you start the fire?”

Seriously?
“No.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She heaved a big sigh. “Do you need me to come take care of you?”

Damn that sounds good.
“Why? I’m a big boy.” He poured a cup of coffee.

“I know, but I want to help out.” His little sister loved playing the caretaker role. “People are asking questions.”

His nerves bristled, and he slapped the full mug on the counter, splashing hot liquid on his hand. “Ow, damn it. Don’t answer anything, and especially don’t talk to the press.”

“I won’t. I already told one reporter where to put his microphone.”

“I hope he got that on camera.” He’d only been teased about his sister fighting his battles once. After that no one dared piss her off. The grade school memory triggered another fear. “Have Malcolm and Zoe heard about this?”

“Yes.” Her voice took on a firm edge, but she remained calm. “I talked to them this morning before Simon took them to school. They believe you didn’t do this, and that the police are looking for the person who really did it.” Kaylee knew when to lie.

“I wish I believed that.” They’d released him because the law required them to, but if his lawyer hadn’t shown up with the bail money, he’d still be in custody.

“They think you’re the guy?”

He’d told them about the incident with Perkins, and they said they’d follow up, but had still kept questioning him. “Yep. Case closed.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry JT. Do you have a good lawyer?”

“Yeah.”

Kaylee grew quiet. Silverware clinked against plates in the background.
Silent and busy. She’s thinking.
Then she blurted out, “Does Mom know?”

Fuck me with a blindside tackle.
Their mother still lived in Denver in a McMansion her rich husband paid for. The house was too big for just the two of them, but they never had kids to ruin it for them.

“I’m sure she watches the news.”

His sister hesitated. “Maybe you should call her, and—”

“Why the hell would I want to talk to her?” His niece and nephew had finally driven their mom crazy.

“Let me finish, butthead. Tell her your side of the story.”

Why, why, why?
Telling his mother would just… no! “Would it make any difference?”

“Probably not, but she’ll definitely think you’re guilty if you don’t.”

Let her think what she wants!
She’d never listened to him. Not once. His feelings meant nothing to her. “Why should I fucking care?” He threw his coffee mug into the sink and gloated when it shattered. Score!

“Because you
do
. That’s your problem.”

His jaw clenched and his teeth ground from the effort of holding back a string of cuss words.
Goddamn it, I hate it when she’s right!
He shouldn’t care, but after all these years and all the abuse, he still wanted his mom to love him—just a little.

“Are you okay?” Kaylee’s gentle question reached though his red haze and patted the monster down.

JT took a deep breath. The smell of fresh brewed coffee lingered in the air, bringing him back to a quiet place. “Will you bring the kids by sometime? It would be nice to see them.”

“Yes. They want to see you, too.” Kaylee sighed as if she’d been holding her breath. “We’ll bring dinner by tonight, how’s that?”

“No. I’ll take you guys out. I need to get away from here.” He cast a glance at the coffee mug mess and cringed. “Get away from all this shit, you know?”

“Yeah. Do you want to stay with us for a while?”

Being surrounded by family held a certain appeal, and he’d probably do it if—when—things got worse. But for now, he needed to stay where Claire could find him.
Um… you’re still hanging on to her?
“Not now, but I’ll remember that.”

“Okay. I need to get to work. Told them I was dealing with a family crisis, so I’d be in late.”

“So I’m a crisis now?” Lame attempt at a joke, but it proved he could get through this.

“And I’m your rock.”

“Yeah, you are. I love you, Kaylee.” He cleared the lump in his throat. “Call me when you get home tonight, and we’ll go wherever the kids want.”

“Okay. Think about what I said, all right?”

“I’m trying not to.”

“I know. I love you too, butthead.”‘

JT sighed and hung up. He’d have to look up his mom’s phone number, but he didn’t have the strength for it now. He tossed his phone aside and grabbed a towel to clean up the coffee. The screen lit up a second before the phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, so he pressed ignore.
Jesus, is this how I’m going to spend my day?
His stomach grumbled. Food.

After filling an unbreakable travel mug with coffee, he drove to the grocery store and loaded his cart with bacon, eggs, more coffee, a couple of frozen pizzas, and a few other necessities.

The cashier glanced at him and her eyes widened as if she’d recognized him, then she busied herself scanning items.

The scrawny guy bagging stuff wouldn’t look straight at JT either. In fact, most of the people in the store had steered clear of him. He fought against the smirk on his lips, but gave up.
I’m notorious.

The cashier handed over his receipt with a trembling hand. “Have a nice day.” She forced a smile.

He winked at her then strode toward the bagger and whispered, “Boo!”

The wimpy kid took a hasty step back and crashed into an empty cart.

JT laughed.
Damn, I needed that.
But he decided in that moment to treat Kaylee, Simon, and the kids to take-out instead of exposing them to his dubious celebrity.

On his way home, Linda called and told him their lumber supplier had refused to deliver an order, but wouldn’t say why. JT had a pretty good idea, so he stopped at the store to talk to the guy in person.

“Hey Chip, what’s going on?”

Chip, a short, skinny wisp of a man, ducked behind the counter as JT advanced. Small and fragile, he looked like he could’ve been a Kentucky Derby jockey in another life. The name fit him. “Oh, JT. Good to see you.”