Up in Flames (15 page)

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Authors: Starr Ambrose

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: Up in Flames
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Christ, Sophie could really mess with his mind. He’d be glad to have her gone.

She rolled in ten minutes before seven. He’d half-expected it. He strode out to meet her in the parking area, ready to keep it short and sweet.

She looked past him to the equipment yard. “Hooter and Manny are back,” she said.

“That’s right. I don’t need your help anymore.”

Her pretty mouth curled into a cynical smile. “You’re firing me again?”

“I believe I did that Saturday when I told you not to come back.”

He thought he saw a faint hope turn into annoyance, and figured she must really need the money. “This is because of the other night,” she said. “You were too cowardly to deal with your own desires, and you’re solving the problem by getting rid of me.”

Cowardly?
His eye twitched at the word. She had no idea of the amount of heroic restraint it had taken to leave. He sucked in a breath, ready to lay into her, but arguing would just draw things out. “Think whatever you want. Just leave.”

Genuine distaste steamed off her like water vapor coming off hot asphalt. “You’re a real SOB, you know that, Zane?”

He must be, because the hurt he saw throbbing beneath her anger made him glad. Hurt would keep her away. “I believe that’s already been established,” he said, his offhand manner designed to insult her. To ensure she stayed gone, he added, “You must like that in a man. You keep coming back for more.”

She opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it shut. “Don’t worry, I’m not wasting any more time on an asshole like you.” She whirled around to leave and he caught her arm. The glare she turned on him could have burned a hole through steel. “Get your hand off me.”

He did, but stepped in front of her. “One more thing, princess. Emmett’s in town.”

She had to think for a few seconds. “Your brother? What do I care?”

“I don’t imagine you do. But your brother-in-law the cop might.”

“Then tell him.”

The obvious answer. But it made something deep inside him squirm with uncertainty; if Emmett was simply yanking his chain, he didn’t want to react with alarm and sic the cops on him when he had nothing to report. He just wanted Sophie to be cautious.

She tried to get past him, and he sidestepped to block her. “He’s been in the area awhile, long enough that he knew Rena Torres.”

The annoyed look faded for a moment. “Knew her how?” When he merely lifted one eyebrow, she gave him a disgusted look that clearly said he was as slimy as his brother.

Anger bubbled up, a knee-jerk reaction to the implication that he was anything like the rest of his family. It was the same reckless assumption he’d been denying all his life, and she knew how sensitive he was to it. Except, obviously, he
was
like them. Decent men didn’t pick up questionable women for one-night stands.

“You know what?” Her narrowed gaze pierced him like an arrow. “I don’t think I would have liked Rena Torres. She wasn’t very discriminating.”

She hadn’t been. Neither had he, a decision he’d regretted from the moment he’d woken up next to her. But since it served his purpose, he wasn’t above rubbing in the glaring connection between Rena and Sophie. “You weren’t any more discriminating two nights ago. I could have taken you to bed, and we both know it.” In a seductive, low voice he added, “I could have had you moaning my name all night long.”

She looked sick. He didn’t feel well himself, knowing he’d just made wanting him sound shameful. But it was for her own good. And it worked—along with her revulsion, she looked furious enough to take his head off.

Steeling himself against the ugliness of what he was about to suggest, he added, “Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you’d like to meet Emmett after all.”

She slapped him, hard. Inside his chest, something twisted painfully in response, and he had to struggle to not let her see it. His words had carried the echo of his father’s voice, shaking him to his core.

She was so mad she didn’t see it. She mouthed a reply, the two words so low they were drowned out by the sudden crunch of tires on gravel as a car pulled into the lot behind him. It didn’t matter; the succinct phrase was easy enough to read on her lips, as was the finger she thrust in his face to emphasize it. She leaned closer as a car door slammed. “You can go to hell,” she growled, “and take your degenerate brother with you. If he comes near me, I’ll mace him.”

A small knot of worry unraveled a bit inside him, easing his mind even as he continued to smirk like an arrogant prick. The prick part was having an effect. Her chest rose and fell like a marathon runner’s at the finish line as her gaze raked over him, revulsion vibrating from every cell. “Get out of my way,” she said, pushing past him.

He scowled as she marched to her Jeep, feeling exactly like the SOB she’d accused him of being. It would be a small leap to the Thorson brand of logic, to blame her for making him feel bad. To think it was her fault that she couldn’t take what he dished out. His father had done it all the time with his mother. It was how relationships worked in the Thorson house. But he’d seen it work differently in the Chambers home, seen the positive results, and he knew Sophie had nothing to do with making him feel like an SOB. The credit for that performance was all his.

She yanked the driver’s door open, then turned back to him with a spiteful look. “People always ask how I can spend so much time with spiders and bugs. Maybe it’s because after knowing you, they don’t seem like lower life forms to me.” Ducking into the Jeep, she slammed the door.

He stood stiffly, arms folded, as the Jeep jerked into reverse, then staggered forward. She wrenched it quickly through the first two gears, hitting third at the same time she hit the highway, throwing a spray of gravel. He watched her roar off, annoyed because he should feel satisfied, not unsettled and angry.

“Stimulating way to start your day,” a man said beside him.

Zane turned, blinking for a moment as he returned to reality. “Mr. Reznick.”

He nodded toward where Sophie’s Jeep had disappeared down the highway. “Isn’t that the snake girl? The entomologist?”

“Yeah.”

“I take it she quit?”

“Yes.” He answered curtly, without explanation; he didn’t want to talk about Sophie.

Reznick absorbed it with a thoughtful hmm. “Look, Zane, if this murder investigation is going to spook all your employees into quitting, I need to know so I can get someone else to finish the job.”

Not Reznick, too. Carl Reznick had always treated him fairly, never judged him by what others said. And Reznick was influential; he couldn’t afford to mess up this job. “It’ll be done on time,” he assured him.

“It has to be finished before the Friday after next. I’m throwing a big party for the opening of my next movie, and we’re counting on using the outdoor kitchen and patios.”

He met the challenge with a firm look. “It’s not a problem.”

“Are you sure? If you don’t have enough people—”

“I have enough.” He gestured at the yard where Hooter and Manny were half-working, half-watching with curious, sidelong glances. “The three of us will have the patios and terracing done this week. After that I’ll only need a couple of days to finish the plantings.”

Reznick studied the men, as if they might be figments of his imagination. “I’ve been talking to some people. They said you lost all your employees, that no one will work for you because they think you killed that girl.”

Zane’s jaw tightened. “Obviously, they were wrong.”

“I didn’t see those guys at my place the other day.”

“They had a day off.”

Reznick did more low hmming, and Zane rushed to head off whatever doubts he might be mulling over. “I’m down by one employee at the moment because he’s off sick. He’ll be back.” He reasoned it wasn’t a lie if Cory went for the same bonus he’d promised the others. He’d find out as soon as the kid decided to answer his calls. And there was no need to mention Annie, since Reznick had never spoken to her. That just left the employee he’d seen as she tore out of here. “Sophie’s gone for good, but she didn’t leave because of the murder.”

He cocked his head. “You sure? She looked pretty upset.”

“Positive. It was a personal issue, nothing to do with the investigation.” He waited, trying to exude confidence instead of the nervous fear he felt.

He didn’t have to wait long. “If you’re sure you have the manpower and you can finish on time, that’s all I need to know. I won’t keep you from your work.” He gave Zane a slap on the shoulder and headed back to his car.

Zane allowed himself a moment of relief before turning back to his less-than-enthusiastic crew. They lounged against the flatbed, Hooter laughing and poking Manny in the ribs, while Manny gave him a tolerant smile. The usual.

It was going to be an easy day. Working with Hooter and Manny might not be his idea of fun, but they knew their jobs and worked without supervision. He wouldn’t have to keep one eye on Sophie to make sure she wasn’t the butt of some prank or lewd joke.

He also wouldn’t hear her laughter or get to sneak peeks at her nicely rounded ass as she bent over the paving bricks.

Shit. He was starting to think like Hooter.

It was time to put Sophie out of his mind. He’d made sure she hated him, and he’d warned her about Emmett; that was all he could do to keep her safe. The rest was up to her. If she kept her nose out of the investigation, she’d be fine.

Sophie steamed all the way back to her apartment, then paced and steamed some more, calling Zane every profane name she could think of. It turned out her vocabulary wasn’t big enough to meet her needs.

She couldn’t believe she’d dared to think he cared about her. It hadn’t seemed like such a stretch. He’d lit into her for going to the Moosehead, but he’d been concerned for her safety. His continual friction with Hooter was also due to his determination to keep her safe. It implied caring, even if he didn’t feel comfortable expressing it.

But the things he’d said to her this morning had nothing to do with caring. Implying that she enjoyed being treated like dirt had been beyond rude. It was hateful and mean. Even the smallest degree of respect would have kept him from suggesting that she might be sexually interested in Emmett. If there had ever been any warm feelings for Zane left in her heart, they were gone now.

Their conversation kept replaying in her mind, leaving her seething. She needed a distraction. The problem with being gone ten years was not having any close friends left in town. It was no contest—Maggie might be a bit too willing to tell her how to live her life, but her sisters were still her closest friends. She called before she could rethink it.

“Hi, Maggie. Are you at work?”

“Not until later. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Wanna hang?” It was a good way to extend the olive branch after their unpleasant dinner.

“What about your job?” Maggie asked cautiously. “Aren’t you supposed to be hefting rocks or something?”

“Turns out I’m not working today. Or ever again.”

“Why not?”

“Because Zane is a big fat jerk. I don’t want to go into it. Do you need any help at the store? Packing, unpacking, sorting—whatever. I need something to do.”

She could tell from her hesitation that Maggie wanted to ask a dozen questions. “Why don’t you join Zoe and me for lunch first? My treat. Trapper Bill’s, eleven thirty.”

Zoe. She’d forgotten that her sister and brother-in-law would have returned from their honeymoon last night. Great. As much as she wanted to see Zoe and hear about her trip to Hawaii, she wasn’t in the mood for lovey-dovey romantic stories.

Still, she wanted company to distract her from her own morose thoughts. She’d just have to put up with the sticky, gooey parts. “See ya there.”

Trapper Bill’s was downtown, in the row of picturesque old brick buildings overlooking Elkhorn Creek. The turbulent little stream cut through the center of Barringer’s Pass, its steep, rocky banks a favorite with tourists for pictures. Sophie didn’t mind all the people, but liked them better when they didn’t block the scenery. From the second floor of Trapper Bill’s, the camera-toting tourists were out of sight, and diners had an unobstructed view of the rushing water.

Maggie and Zoe were already there, their strawberry blond heads easily visible across the crowded restaurant. Zoe rose for a hug, and Sophie thought she looked exactly like a newlywed should. Her hair was burnished with highlights, and her face had a glow from more than a week of sun and surf. “I think you have a few more freckles,” Sophie told her, touching the end of her nose affectionately.

Zoe ignored it, said freckles suddenly marred by lines of concern. “What happened?”

She looked at her blouse, wondering if there was a stain she hadn’t noticed. Or maybe all her muttered rants about Zane had etched permanent creases in her face. “Is something wrong with me?”

“You found a dead body! Maggie was just telling me about it. My God, that’s horrible!”

She winced. “Oh, yeah, that.”

“Yes,
that
.” Zoe looked even more concerned. “Sit down.” She practically pushed her into a chair. “How did this happen? Start from the beginning; I missed a lot.”

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