Seeing Red (20 page)

I
t was somewhere near one in the morning by the time Summer watched Joe walk away. He’d taken her to his boat, waiting until she’d gotten into his bed and closed her eyes before he’d left. Though he’d told her he had to work, she still felt as if she’d pushed him out of his own home.

His bedroom was small and shaped like the top of a torpedo, with the bed against the curved wall, which was lined with high, narrow windows. He had a heavy blue comforter and soft matching sheets that smelled like him, which was to say incredible. She kept pressing her face into his pillow.

Pathetic.

Reaching for the phone, she called Chloe. She knew the call wouldn’t be welcome but she had to check on her after what she’d learned tonight about Braden.

Chloe answered her cell phone with a very breathless, annoyed “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing,” Summer said.

“I’ve had three orgasms and I’m going for four, thanks for asking. Now don’t call back.”

“Chloe.”

Chloe sighed.
“What?”

“I need to talk to you about Braden.”

“No.”

“Chloe—”

“Okay, stop. Stop right there. You always followed your gut and it got you the world. Now I’m going to do the same, only my world is right here lying next to me.”

“He has one foot out of that world, remember?”

“Hold on a sec.”

Summer heard her cover the phone and murmur something softly, and then Braden’s equally soft reply. After a moment, Chloe came back. “I sent him to the kitchen for whipped cream. So what is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Braden has a police record, and he’s using a different name from his last job.”

Chloe was quiet a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. Want me to come over?”

“I don’t need a babysitter. Look, whatever this stuff’s about, I believe in Braden. He’s a good guy, Summer.”

“I want to believe that too. I really do. Just…be careful.”

“Yeah. I will.” Chloe clicked off, sounding much more subdued than she had, and Summer hated that she’d been the one to cause it. She picked up her phone again to let her mom know where she was. She didn’t know if Camille would worry, but maybe it wasn’t about that so much as Summer just needing to connect.

But Camille didn’t answer her phone. Concerned, she called Tina’s house.

“Yes, she’s here,” Bill told her. “The two of them are in the hot tub singing show tunes over a bottle of old scotch.”

Summer laughed in surprise. “They don’t drink scotch.”

“They don’t usually hot tub it either, but your mom found some old stuff in the boxes that came out of the warehouse.”

“What stuff?”

“Your dad’s. Just an old partially written manuscript and some notes. And the bottle of scotch. She decided it’d aged enough.”

“Maybe I should come over and try to cheer her up.”

“Actually, she’s not sad,” Bill said. “They’re out there laughing and talking. And singing, let’s not forget the singing. I think it’s therapeutic. Me, I need a run to the racetrack for my therapy.”

“Too bad Del Mar isn’t open all night, huh?”

“Babe, you ain’t kidding.” He huffed out a breath but she could tell he was smiling. “Want me to give her a message?”

“I’ll call her tomorrow. Just watch after them, okay?”

“I always have.”

In the early dawn light, Joe leaned back against the trunk of the Camaro. He was watching Chloe’s condo and sipping a Red Bull. It’d been that or a dozen doughnuts, but he refused to go back to stress eating simply because his life had been turned upside down.

And it had been turned upside down. It wasn’t work either, though he was in the middle of several difficult cases, with Creative Interiors at the top. He’d had many such problems this year. He’d learned to separate out his emotions from the practical aspect of his job.

Or so he’d thought.

But enter one Summer Abrams. Or reenter.

From behind him came a whine. He’d left Ashes asleep on the passenger seat of the car, having some sort of a dream that involved twitching her feet and ears. Probably dreaming about eating his files, her favorite pastime. Reaching through the window, he stroked a hand down her little body, over her plump belly, and she quieted. Just because of his touch.

Hard to believe he’d gotten to the ripe old age of thirty and could still have such a small thing grab him by the throat, but it did. He’d never had any pets as a kid, hell it’d been hard enough to survive without that worry. As an adult, he’d always been too busy. The people in his life were important to him: Kenny, his other coworkers, the women he’d dated…but none had ever required his care the way Ashes did. He’d always figured he’d think of such a responsibility as a chore.

But he didn’t.

With the jolt of caffeine humming through his system, he straightened as the front door of Chloe’s apartment opened, and out came the man he’d been waiting for.

Joe knew the exact moment Braden saw him. Not that the younger man’s feet faltered, or that his body language changed in any noticeable way.

But his face went carefully blank.

Dead giveaway.

“Morning,” Joe said, and reached into his car to bring out another can of Red Bull.

Braden eyed the can, then Joe. “You waited out here for who knows how long to offer me a kick of caffeine that tastes like cow piss?”

“I don’t think it tastes like cow’s piss. At least not if it’s good and cold.” With a shrug, Joe opened the can himself. What the hell. “And for your information, I waited out here—for two hours, thanks for asking—to find out what the hell you think you’re doing, skipping town right now.”

Braden lifted a shoulder. “What’s wrong with right now?”

Joe took a long sip of the drink. Between realizing he’d done the unthinkable and moved Summer in with him, then getting no sleep while he sat in his office staring at the files of the fires, and now all this caffeine, he’d be lucky if poof, his head just didn’t explode right off his shoulders. “Leaving now makes you look guilty. You know that.”

Braden eyed him for a beat. “Makes me look guilty, or makes me guilty period?”

“Semantics.”

Braden cocked his head. “Are you here to arrest me for something?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

Braden closed his eyes. Swallowed once. “Don’t fuck with me.”

“Actually, that was going to be my line to you. I interviewed you after the warehouse fire. After the store fire. Both times I could tell you were nervous and I asked you point blank if there was something I needed to know. You said no.”

“I stick by that.”

“All right.” Joe opened his clipboard. “You have a record. I pulled it.”

“How did you—”

“You used the same Social Security number for your alias, so they’re linked at the DMV. Not smart.”

Braden’s mouth tightened.

“Does Chloe know your real name is Brian?”

No answer.

“How about that you’re an alcoholic?”

“Recovering. I haven’t had a drink in eighteen months.”

“You have proof of that? Or the fact that you supposedly haven’t smoked?”

Braden looked at Chloe’s condo.

Joe sighed. “Does she know any of it?”

“She doesn’t know anything about me other than what she’s seen. I wanted that.”

Joe knew all about wanting to be impenetrable. Unbreakable. What he didn’t know was if Braden’s reason was legal or not. “We want to search your place.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I just showed you all my size eleven-and-a-half shoes so you could check for traces of gasoline?”

Joe looked at him for a long moment. They’d let everyone know about the size eleven-and-a-half prints found at the fires. What they hadn’t said was that the prints were a work boot, not a shoe.

So was Braden innocent, or just very, very good?

Joe flipped through the pages on his clipboard. “Interesting how Braden Cahill is this model citizen. No tickets. Not so much as a blip on his record anywhere. Brian Cold-well however…not so lucky.”

Braden snatched the opened Red Bull out of Joe’s hand and sat on the curb as he downed the contents. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Embezzling from an antique shop—”

“It was my uncle’s shop. He owed me back wages that he refused to pay. So I helped myself.”

“He prosecuted.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Okay.” Joe could buy that easily enough, he’d been raised by an asshole. “You were also held and questioned about another matter. Money laundering.”

“Again, my uncle. When I discovered the truth about his business, and how he was laundering drug money through his shop, I quit. But then he was caught and they thought I’d helped him.”

“You hadn’t?”

“No, and I was never charged for anything.”

“True.” Joe tossed his file into the truck. “You have access to Creative Interiors’s books.”

Braden swiped a hand over his mouth. It was shaking, and Joe had no idea if that was nerves or the caffeine jolt he’d just given his system. “I’ve done nothing wrong,” he repeated.

“Then why are you leaving town?”

Braden closed his eyes and let out a harsh laugh. “To avoid this.”

“Haven’t you watched
Cops
? Running is always a bad thing.”

“I didn’t think of it as running. More an avoidance technique.”

“Well, you might want to rethink it,” Joe said. “Seriously rethink it.”

Braden got to his feet and pulled out his keys. “Are we done here?”

“For now.” Joe watched Braden stalk away before he got into his car just as his cell phone rang. “Walker.”

“So official.”

His entire body softened at the sound of Summer, even as a certain part of him went hard. Jesus, he was worse than Pavlov’s dog.

“Did you find Braden?” she asked.

“Yes. I think he’s going to rethink leaving for now.”

“Any news on the text message I received?”

“We’re tracing the number it was made from.”

“Did anyone else get a text message?”

“Not that we know of. Red, I’m telling you more than I should be.”

“I guess that means you trust me.”

That or he was a fool. He hadn’t decided which yet.

She was silent a moment. “The fires, the phone call, Braden lying…None of this makes any sense to me.”

“It will by the time we get to the bottom of it all.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am.”

She let out a low laugh. “Do you have any idea how it feels to hear you sound so confident? So assertive?”

Confident and assertive? Was she kidding? He had no idea what the hell he was doing.

“I’m just getting to know the man you’ve become,” she said softly. “And you know what?”

He was almost afraid to ask. “What?”

“I like it. I like you.”

He’d known she was attracted to his body, she’d made no secret of that. He’d also known that while she’d told herself it was purely physical, even she knew deep down it was more than that. Her words proved it.

But would she give them the time to take it where it might go?

“Oh! Before I forget why I called you, I’ve got a cab coming to get a ride to my car. I’m heading up Highway 8 to Cuyamaca Peak. A couple of customers came through the shop last week and said how they always get lost up there, and they asked me to lead them. You said you wanted to know what I was up to.”

“I did. I do.”

“I’m dressing right now. I’m wearing a bright red tank and black running shorts. Do you want to know what color my panties are?”

Yes.
“Red.”

“I’ll call you later, and I’ll give you a blow by blow of the rest of my day.”

The image
that
put into his mind was not fit for mixed company. He pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered at his need for a doughnut. “Good-bye, Red.”

“Bye. Oh, and they’re black,” she said. “Just plain cotton but string bikini cut. I say that because last night you seemed to enjoy—”

“Thank you.” He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything worth a damn now.

“You want to tell me about
your
underwear?” She laughed. “Or maybe you’re going commando? I noticed you haven’t done laundry. Not that I’m much better—”

He wasn’t used to erections on the job. And damn it, he
was
commando. “I have to go.”

“I know. But Joe? Thanks.”

“For?…”

“For wanting me to stay with you. For caring. For…being there.”

That she sounded surprised had his frustration with her fading away. “Just be careful on the mountain.” He hung up and pocketed the cell before he realized he was smiling, for no reason at all.

B
y that evening, Joe and Kenny had combed the Creative Interiors II fire site yet again. They’d cooperated with the insurance investigator, who was conducting a simultaneous investigation. They’d gone back for yet more interviews with all the players and witnesses, including Stella and Gregg, both of whom had been the second to last to leave Creative Interiors II and had been in the warehouse several times in the months leading up to the fire.

Neither of them smoked or had a size eleven-and-a-half boot, or had been in the small bathroom of the store in the hours before the fire, but neither did they have an alibi for the hours after the fire.

The text Summer had received was traced to a pay-as-you-go phone, which made about as much sense as the rest of this whole thing did.

An hour ago Joe had put Ashes in her box in the corner of his office, where she’d fallen asleep. He’d pushed away from his too messy desk, bringing the papers he needed to the floor. They were scattered out before him, including the original warehouse fire investigation, but he’d found nothing there that stuck out at him. No size eleven boot with a diagonal tread. No traces of gasoline found. No cigarette butts. Not a single shred to suggest the old fire could be connected to two new fires.

So…a terrible coincidence?

Or clever arson? And yet if that was true, then half the possible suspects could be eliminated because they hadn’t been around twelve years ago.

He heard footsteps coming down the hall, and knew by their light touch they were female. And still he was surprised when Summer appeared in his doorway. She hoisted a brown bag from which came a delicious scent, making his mouth water.

Or maybe that was just her.

“Hungry?” she asked, and waved the bag. “Low carb, no sugar or fat, I swear.”

Her smile was warm, affectionate, and just unsure enough to have him tossing aside his pencil and notepad. “And here I was hoping for pizza.”

Her light laugh filled him as she came into the room. She wore shorts tonight. Khaki cargo shorts with pockets everywhere, and a snug, thin scoop-neck T-shirt with a smiley face on it that said
SMILE, IT CONFUSES PEOPLE.

“Did you just get back from your day hike?” he asked.

“Yep, I got them halfway to the summit, which was their goal. They want to try again later in the summer. They had a great time. Oh, and I got myself booked for two more hikes next week.” Her smile faltered, and he knew that was because she hadn’t planned on being here that long.

“You could have said no,” he said gently.

“I could have. Didn’t though.” She sat on the floor next to him, hugged her knees close and smiled at him. “It gives me an excuse to stay.”

“Do you need one?”

“Maybe I once thought I did. I know it doesn’t make much sense to you, but being so far from home for so long was…freeing.”

“You think you’d lose your freedom if you lived here, or used it as your home base?”

Reaching out, she stroked some hair from his forehead. The thick strands immediately fell back again, and she smiled. “I love your hair.”

She sidetracked him like no one else ever had. “Red.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “I don’t know about losing my freedom,” she admitted. “I just know that I love being with you, in a way I’d never imagined. Can’t that be enough for now? For the next few weeks, until I decide what the hell I’m doing?”

The way she looked at him, as if she expected him to push her away, pulled at him hard. She was struggling to find the path that was right for her, and he had no right, nor a desire, to stand in her way and direct her. She had a smudge of trail dirt on her jaw, a slight sunburn on her nose, and a wary light in her eyes while she waited for him to respond.

“I promised you one minute at a time,” he said, and traced a finger over her jaw. “I’m trying here, Red.”

She let out a tenuous smile, and as they stared at each other, time seemed to stop. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, and a small part of him hesitated because he knew he was headed for a world of hurt.

“So.” She glanced at all his paperwork scattered in front of them. “Getting anywhere?”

“No.”

“Well, in that case.” She scooted closer and kissed his chin. “Maybe we can get back to that one minute at a time thing.”

Resisting was pointless when he wanted her bad enough to take what he could get. He shoved all the paperwork away and pulled her into his lap.

Summer moved eagerly into Joe’s arms, thinking he was just what she needed. He ran a finger down her throat, over her collarbone as she settled in his lap, and at the feel of him hard and muscled beneath her, she all but purred. “Is that a gun in your pocket, Fire Marshal Walker, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Guess,” he said, and grabbing the hands she’d tried to dip into his Levi’s, he pushed her to the floor, following her down, holding her wrists captive on either side of her head. “Now about that minute…”

“Yes?” she asked breathlessly, looking up into his face.

“I’m taking one right now. You’re going to let me.”

Her pulse leapt and she wrapped her legs around his hips, arching up, rubbing the hottest, neediest part of her to what she figured was the hottest, neediest part of him, dragging a groan from his throat. He released her hands to shove up her tank and unzip her sports bra.

She opened her mouth to tell him she hadn’t showered, but all that came out was a garbled whimper because he took a breast in his mouth, sucking her nipple in deep, running his tongue over the tip as it hardened for him.

“Joe. I need to take a shower—Ohmigod,” she gasped when he clamped his teeth down lightly and tugged.

“My minute isn’t over.” He surged up, slapped the lock on his office door, then tugged down her shorts and groaned. “You
are
wearing black panties.”

“I told you—” She broke off when he put a big hand on the inside of her thigh and pushed her legs open.

“A minute wasn’t enough. I’m taking another.” He hooked the crotch of her panties with his thumb and slid it aside. “You’re so wet. I have to—” He sank a finger in deep, and with a cry she couldn’t contain, she arched up for more. But even with the locked door, they couldn’t. Shouldn’t…“Joe.” She had to lick her dry lips, her body quivering with his every touch. “We can’t—”

He circled her nipple with his tongue again, and sank a second finger inside her. “Can’t what?” he murmured in a low, thick voice as he brushed his thumb over her center.

“Can’t…uh…” She couldn’t remember.

Another glide of his thumb with the barest of pressures now, and she fisted her hands in his shirt with a helpless moan.
“Joe.”

“Look at you,” he murmured as he drove her right to the edge and held her there with the steady pressure and rhythm she needed. Her head fell back while she panted for air. She was close, so terrifyingly close—

“Come for me,” he whispered, his mouth brushing her jaw, beneath her ear. “I want you to.”

She could no more have stopped a train on its tracks as she burst, exploding in a kaleidoscope of lights and sensations, eventually coming back to herself as Joe slowly stroked her down to earth. He brushed his lips over her damp temple. “Good?”

“Great.
More,
” she demanded.

“Greedy woman.”

“I have a condom in my purse.”

“Resourceful too.” He blew out a relieved breath. “I like that.” He reached up for her purse just as his radio chirped on his desk. “Damn it.”

“Don’t listen.” She arched her hips. “Inside me.
Now.
”

He opened her purse but his radio chirped again, and he sagged against her, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I have to get that.” His body was hard, quivering with it, but on his face was a resigned tension. And she didn’t believe that tension was all for himself, but for her, too, and right then and there, something deep within her shifted. Softened. “Hey.” She cupped his face, and smiled past the hunger flooding her. “It’s okay, I can wait.”

At that, something seemed to shift within him too, certainly a release of the tension that had gripped him at the sound of his radio, but something more. Something warm and deep, and maybe not all physical. He nuzzled close, gave her a quick, hard kiss on the lips and then pulled back with serious reluctance before answering the radio.

It was dispatch. There’d been a police call at Creative Interiors I, an intruder, though there was no one at the premises now. Given the arson issues, they’d contacted Joe as a courtesy.

With her stomach clenching, Summer adjusted her clothing and sat up. “I’m coming with you.”

“Red—”

“Look, this is a nightmare, I know. But it’s my nightmare.” They left his office with Ashes coming along, and walked in silence to their cars. Summer followed Joe to Creative Interiors, trying not to think too hard. She’d always been able to clear her mind, through good music or breathing techniques, or her soothing crystals and teas, but it wasn’t as easy with so many thoughts swirling in her head she felt as if they were coming out her ears.

In front of Creative Interiors, there was a police car. Joe talked to the cop for a moment, then came over to her. “The alarm went off. A witness said she saw a twenty-something-year-old guy in black from head to toe let himself in with keys, and then back out a moment later.”

She blinked. “Braden?”

“They’re looking for him now. They’ve called your mom and Tina.”

This made even less sense now than it had yesterday. She went into the store to see if she could tell what might possibly be missing. Joe came in behind her. She flipped off the alarm and headed toward the back. The counter looked cleared off as usual. The cash register would be empty so she didn’t bother to check there.

In the back she turned on the lights, surveyed the crowded storage area and sighed. Everything had been chaotic and unorganized since the warehouse fire, and after the other store’s fire, things had only gotten worse. There were stacks of inventory haphazardly placed on shelves, on the floor, in and around the table and chairs used for employee breaks. On a shelving unit sat three of Bill’s lighthouses, held up on either side with two of her father’s travel books.

She ran a finger over a spine. “I was with him when he did his research for this one. We took a canoe down the Amazon. I’ll never forget it.”

“You shouldn’t.” He turned her to face him. “Maybe there’s more you should never forget.”

“I’m beginning to get that,” she said softly, knowing how right he was. “It’s just that I wanted to live in the here and now, you know?” She let out a sad smile. “Just wanted to hang out, see everyone, be happy, and then go on my merry way.”

“Without looking back?”

“That was my plan. But…” She set her hand on his chest, slowly fisting it over his heart, staring at her fingers as she gripped him tight, binding him to her. “I don’t seem to be able to manage it the way I thought I could.”

He covered her hand with his. “Because it’s all entwined. The past. The now. The future.”

“I just want the now,” she whispered.

He slowly shook his head. “That’s not the way this works, Red. At least not for me.”

Her heart sped up as she struggled to make sure he understood. “I’ve never really been a future sort of woman, you know that. And I sure as hell know you’re not a past kind of guy. There’s nothing there for you, you’ve said so yourself. When you look at it like that, all we have is now.”

“
You
are my past. My entire past.”

She set her forehead to his chest and took a moment to soak him in. Everything about him steadied her—his solid heartbeat, the scent of him, the way his hands felt on her, his voice, everything. “I’m so screwed up,” she murmured. “I thought being here would help, but now I’m just feeling more confused.”

He stroked a soothing hand up her spine, sinking his fingers into her hair. “That’s because when your father died, when Camille closed herself off, all you saw was the pain from the loss. You’re afraid you’ll end up the same way if you ever love someone too much, so you close yourself off too,” he said, brushing his lips against her temple. “Am I close?”

She was still staring at his chest, wondering how it was he saw so much, and understood her, maybe more than she did herself. “Let’s just say you’re warm.”

“I’m more than warm, Red. I’m dead-on. Now you live your life in the present without looking back. It’s easier to do that, easier to keep your heart intact and safe, but guess what? Shit happens and you had to come back here where the past and the present have collided like a plane crash, and there’s no safety net.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Look, you’ve lived good and well, but not deep. Maybe it’s time to change things.”

A moment ago he’d been forceful and sexy as hell with it. Now he was being so sweet and tender, and somehow it was even sexier. But that he saw her so clearly, so absolutely, stunningly clearly, terrified her.

How could he know her so well?

“I loved the girl you were,” he said, and stroked a tear off her cheek that she hadn’t even been aware she’d shed. “And I’m growing to love the woman you’ve become. Past and present, hopelessly entwined. So the future should be given a shot too.”

“Joe.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Look at me.” He tipped up her chin. “You say that the past doesn’t matter, but you stand there looking at that book of your father’s and you ache. You say that what
we
had in the past doesn’t matter, but you keep going back to it so that’s yet another lie.”

Into the silence her cell phone vibrated like an insect. She pulled it out of her pocket.

Joe moved away from her into the front room of the store and out of her view while she looked at the display. The phone vibrated again, shook and shimmied in her hand as she stared at it. By the time she followed Joe a minute later, he was talking to the police officer. She walked up to them and showed Joe the text message.

He eyes slid over the digital readout, then up to hers. He had his fire marshal face on, inscrutable. Only the corners of his mouth, turned slightly down, gave him away.