House of Fire (Unraveled Series) (15 page)

She shivered, looking
down at the soft light of her phone to see the time. 10:37. He had to be coming
out soon. Evie hadn’t seen Holston leave. An owl hooted behind her, the rushing
waters of the Fox River bantering alongside of her.

She felt her lids get
heavy, the darkness of the night and the jet lag consuming her. She
surrendered, letting her eyes fall shut for a few moments as her body was
lulled into relaxation. Her breath deepened as she saw the red brick building
before her. The crematory. She watched as Holston treaded the steps, her own
bloodied body slung over his shoulder. Her wig scattering to the ground, the
blonde fanning out in the gravel to leave her short, cropped hair exposed. Her
father carried her to her grave, his eyes relishing the flames. He kicked the
door open with his foot, the bang registering in her head.

Her eyes shot open to
see the headlights of a car filter through the branches and leaves. A parking
lot behind another building. She shot her gaze back to an empty Parker Tower.

Evie jolted up in her
sweat, the moisture sending shivers through her body. She maneuvered through
the trees, following the beam of headlights until she was only thirty feet away
from the car. The voices echoed against the river, but she was unable to
comprehend their words. She squinted into the darkness, trying to avoid the
beams head on. She moved to her right until she saw the man behind the wheel.
President Givens. His window was rolled down and another man was bent next to
the open window, talking to him. She followed his body up, a fedora resting on
his head. Holston. Her chest tightened as she reached down to her thigh where
her knife was sheathed. God, she needed a gun. She longed for the familiar grip
of her 9mm, the barrel pointed right in his direction. Any chance she would
get, she would take it now. She had learned from the first time around.

The voices escalated,
President Givens now barking. Evie tilted her head, but still nothing. She
crept closer, their voices masking any sound she produced.

“You can’t prove it,”
President Givens yelled. “You would ruin me. Think of Helen.”

“Lord Jesus, I am a
sinner. Please forgive me,” Holston started.

“What the hell are
you doing?” President Givens shouted.

“Wash me clean of all
sin and give me strength to endure with your power. I ask this in your name,
Jesus. Amen.” Holston raised his arm and shoved his hand through the window,
jabbing at President Givens’s neck. President Givens’s head slumped forward,
but Holston caught it with his gloved hand before it slammed against the wheel.
Evie gripped her knife tighter, her legs twitching beneath her as Holston
pulled something from his jacket.
A gun.
He grabbed President Givens’s
hand and wrapped it around the gun, raising it to his head. The gunshot popped
through the air, muffled against the rush of the river and the silencer. Evie
stepped back, fleeing into the darkness.

19

June 16 - 10:30 p.m

Delaney tiptoed into
her bedroom, shutting the door silently behind her. The glow of the bedside
lamp illuminated a bare-chested James, his smile gleaming in the light. His
tousled hair and sultry eyes were inviting, she had to admit. He pat the empty
spot next to him with a slow, playful movement. She crossed the room in her tank
top and sweat pants, sliding the pants off into a ball on the floor. She stood
in her black thong and white, see-through tank top, letting James study her.

“Finally,” he said as
she lifted the covers and slipped in beside him. “Is everyone in bed?”

“I think so, but this
is a bad idea. My parents are in the room next to us. I feel like teenagers,
trying to sneak it in under the parental radar,” she whispered as he huddled
his naked body against hers. She lay flat on her back, her head racing as he
ran his fingers underneath her tank top strap, tugging it down until it hung
loose around her arm. She hesitated before she reached for her phone on the
night stand. She slid it open and clicked on her browser, slowly tapping in
“Angel’s Pub Amberg” in the search box.

“What are you doing?”
James mumbled as he caressed her arm, kissing one of the straps and lightly
biting it with his teeth.

“Checking out Angel’s
Pub,” she whispered as she waited for the results. A link to a Facebook page
popped up. “Damn Facebook.”

“That pub that Evie’s
note mentioned?” James perked up, leaning against his elbow as he looked over
her shoulder at the screen. “What the hell was that all about anyway?”

“I don’t know yet,
but I want to find out,” she said as she clicked on the link. The business
number and address displayed on the screen. “Three hundred twenty-seven likes.
Is that a lot?”

“No.” James smiled.
“We have got to get you up to speed. You know a lot of sixty-year-olds have
Facebook accounts. Twitter accounts. Tweet, tweet.”

“I’m good,” Delaney
said as she scrolled through the page and talked to the screen. “No, I don’t
want to join, but I am going to call.”

“What does Evie want
anyway? She seems a bit off. Shady, if you ask me. From what I remember, she
looks like she’d kick anybody’s ass if she was provoked,” James said as he
exhaled and fell back onto his pillow. He rested his hands behind his head.
Delaney turned to him, listening to the ring tone.

“HELLO?” The woman’s
voice yelled on the other end amid the yells and voices in the background.

“Is this Angel’s
Pub?” Delaney asked.

“HELLO? Give me a
sec, I can’t hear ya,” the woman shouted.

Delaney waited,
listening to the noise filter down to a low mumble.

“Hello?” she asked
again, this time quieter.

“Is this Angel Pub?”
Delaney asked.

“You got it, hun.
Whatcha need?” The woman paused as a man’s voice rattled next to her. “Yeah,
yeah. The one in the yellow hat, he’s totally gone. Don’t serve him.”

“Just a quick
question. Do you know if the pub used to be a restaurant? Back in the ‘80s?”
Delaney asked.

“Yes it was, hun. I’m
the owner. Angel,” the woman answered, beginning to sound annoyed. “But you
gotta speak up, girl.”

Delaney looked at
James, his head now turned toward her on the pillow. “The 80’s?” James mouthed
with a scrunched up face.

“House of Steel?”
Delaney said louder as she closed her eyes, hoping her parents were asleep.

“Yep, whatcha need? I
got customers hollerin’ at me. It’s a Friday night, busiest night of the week,”
Angel said, moments away from hanging up the phone.

“Did you know anyone
from the restaurant? Waitresses, by chance?”

“Look, honey. I can’t
answer those questions right now, but why don’t you stop on by tomorrow during
the day. I can help you then.” Click.

Delaney looked at her
phone, the call blinking before her screen turned black. The owner, whoever she
was, could have answers. She could have known her mother. Or George Boyd. She
felt James’s eyes penetrate her, waiting for her to explain.

“So, you want to fill
me in?” James finally broke the silence.

Delaney slid the
phone back onto her night stand, feeling the heaviness in her chest wane as she
thought of the possibilities of tomorrow. Her mother had secrets she had
promised to tell. The owner of the bar had details about House of Steel. The
pieces could finally fall into place and maybe, just maybe, she had a shot of
discovering her past along with why Holston Parker was so interested in her
now.

“Where should I
start?” Delaney sighed, knowing that she didn’t even know how to begin to tell James
about everything. Besides, she didn’t want to put him at risk. Not with Evie
back in town.

“From the beginning,”
James said as he moved to pull the tank top over her head. “You talk. I’ll
listen and explore.” Delaney felt the cotton top slide over her head, exposing
her bare breasts. She shuffled down beneath the covers when her phone vibrated
on the night stand.

“Don’t even think
about it,” he warned as he threw her top on the floor.

“It’s late, let me
just see who it is,” she whispered as she wiggled out of his grip and secured
her phone in her hand. Kandy with a K’s face glowed on her screen. She heard
the click of the bedside lamp as she hit the green button on her phone.

“This better be
good,” Delaney whispered. James moved back onto the pillow next to her and
tugged on her underwear; she felt the light snap of her underwear against her
skin. She exhaled, gravitating toward his touch.

“Did I catch you at a
bad time?” Kandy drawled. “Are you getting it on, Ms. Jones? You know I’d be
proud of you if you were.”

“Go, Kandy.” Delaney
felt James’s hand graze along her leg, twisting his fingers in her underwear
before tugging them down a few inches. Delaney closed her eyes, trying to
concentrate on Kandy’s voice.

“It’s really hard
getting the dirt on your guy. His history is sealed tighter than the damn
Pentagon. The daughter, too. There isn’t much on either of them. Your guy,
George Boyd, now Holston Parker, adopted a little girl by the name of Evie when
she was two-years-old. She was born in Crivitz, Wisconsin,” Kandy wavered
before she hiccupped. Kandy was drunk on too many glasses of wine.

“Did you say
Crivitz?” Delaney asked as she felt James’s fingers graze along her navel and
move upward; his hand cupped the bottom of her breast. Delaney inhaled, feeling
her nipples harden.

“Yeah, Critvitz,
Wisconsin. Some hick town up north,” Kandy recited.

“That’s where I was
born. The hospital was in Crivitz,” Delaney whispered, sitting up. James’s hand
followed her up, now rubbing her nipples with his fingertips. She grabbed his
hand, holding it stationary on her breast.

“That’s a weird
coincidence, but the paperwork was filed in Appleton, not in Crivitz, and the
strange thing is that the mother is listed as unknown,” Kandy paused. “I know
it’s not much, but I can’t seem to find anything else. It’s like a dark, empty
tunnel trying to research these two. Private. No blips on the radar, except for
the whole billionaire thing.”

“Yeah,” Delaney said,
her chest heaving underneath James’s warm hand. He laid his head on her arm,
waiting.

Delaney’s eyes moved
to the wall of the bedroom next to hers. She wanted to peel Ann out of the bed
and demand answers. The wretched feeling that Ann had been holding onto a dark,
deep secret burned in her gut. An affair with George Boyd. Theron’s remark
about Evie’s eyes being the same as hers.

“Well, I think that’s
the end of the road for me,” Kandy breathed through the phone.

“Thanks, Kandy. I owe
you. I’ll call you in a few days.” Delaney hit end and slid her phone back onto
the nightstand.

“Are you okay?” James
asked, his lips kissing her arm. He made his way up her shoulder to her neck.

“I don’t know,”
Delaney whispered, closing her eyes to let her body succumb to his warmth.

“Who’s Kandy, by the
way? Sounds like a hooker’s name.” James moved up to find her lips, their
softness melting into his. “Mysterious bars. Random late night calls. Who is
this Delaney Jones?”

“Do you really care?”
Delaney breathed, her body relenting finally to his while her mind flashed
through images of Evie. To Holston Parker. To her mother.

“I do care. Give me
thirty minutes then I’m all ears,” James whispered as he pressed his body into
hers. Delaney closed her eyes and gave into his body, pushing the thoughts of
the Parker family out of her head.

***

Delaney’s eyes
flashed open to the morning sun, like a quick fluttering of a bird’s wings.
8:17
.
For the past three months, the nights spent with James equated to late morning
wakeups. She was lucky if she slept until six a.m. on most mornings without
James. She’d wake up in a panic on those mornings always on a clean time. 5:30.
5:45. Never the odd kind of number like 8:17, but on those mornings without
him, she’d be drenched in sweat from her nightmares. It was the kind of panic
that sends distress calls through your body. The kind of panic a mom goes
through when she can’t find her child. Or when you bury a hatchet in a man’s
head. The nights were different with James, though. Peaceful, comforting. She
turned to the pillow next to her to see his wakeful eyes staring at her.

“Good morning.” James
smiled as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Back at you,” she
whispered, cuddling up against his body. He wrapped his arms around her,
pulling her tightly against him. “How long have you been up?”

“Long enough to watch
you sleep for a bit.”

“I’m sure that was
real exciting,” she said as she ran her fingertips across his shoulders. His
tan skin was pulled tight against his bicep, the bulge not too big, not too
little.
Perfect.

“It was,” he teased.
“Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Your phone vibrated on your night stand and
then your eyes fluttered open.”

Delaney turned back
to the phone on her night stand, wanting to reach out to it. It was an awkward
feeling for Delaney. She wasn’t the type of person that had her phone glued to
her hand, checking every update and buzz like a trained dog, yet she longed to
see the text or voicemail.
Kandy maybe?
She exhaled, hoping the urge
would pass her. Delaney turned her attention back to James.

“You know, I wouldn’t
mind waking up every morning to this,” James said as he pulled her in tighter.

“Yeah?” Delaney
responded. She didn’t want to have this conversation, not this morning with her
mother’s secrets in her mind. Ann and Michael would be up; they were always
both up early, well before seven. Her father had always said, “Once a farmer,
always a farmer.” It had broken his heart when Ann had slept past eight on most
days during her latest relapse of cancer during the winter. It had been a sign
for her father that his wife was really sick; the doctor’s prognosis of less
than three hundred sixty-five days to live hadn’t been convincing enough.