Wedding Bell Blues (15 page)

I'm not sure how long I huddled against the wall to the side
of the
door before a knock sounded. If it had been possible, I would have
jumped out of my skin. I gasped again and then cursed, even as I looked
around for something, anything to use as a weapon. Then, before I could
punch in 911 on the cell phone, Colton's voice sounded softly, urgently
from the other side of the door. I quickly dragged away the chair and
pulled the door open, all but throwing myself into his arms as he
stepped inside.

"Easy, Jess," he soothed, holding me close. "Just take it easy
and
tell me exactly what happened." He closed the door behind him and drew
me away from it.

"I told you. I was in here working and about to step out of
the room when I heard him, them. That's when I called you."

"Okay. Any idea who they were? Teachers? Staff? Students?"

"I don't know." Damn it. If I'd just had the nerve to peek
into the
hallway, I could have told him exactly who they were - maybe. But I'd
been too scared. Big help I was. "Truly, I don't."

"All right." He looked at his watch, obviously thinking hard.
"Okay,
it's not quite seven. I had to get one of the administrators to let me
in. So whoever it was either came in with an employee or they work
here. Who's usually here this early?"

"A few teachers, usually department heads or those getting
tests
ready for the day. There's usually a janitor or two here by now and the
coaches and athletes scheduled for morning practice." Now it was my
turn to pause and think. "Colton, I didn't recognize the voices, but I
don't think it was anyone on the faculty. I'd have recognized them. I
am sure of that."

"So we're talking support staff or students. All right. I've
got a
couple of other detectives on their way. I'll coordinate with them and
then I'm getting you away from here. Until we figure out what's going
on, you're taking a vacation." He held up a hand, his expression
stormy, when I started to protest. "Don't. Just don't say a word right
now. I'm about ready to strangle you for being so hard-headed and
foolish to come here on your own. I know you're mad at me, but to do
something this stupid -"

Much as I wanted to argue with him, I couldn't. I had acted
without
thinking. Or, to be honest, without thinking logically. So I simply
nodded and breathed out a long sigh of relief.

"Colton, I'm sorry." He looked at me as if he didn't believe
me, not
that I blamed him. I wouldn't believe me right now. "I really am. Let's
just say this is all starting to take its toll on me and I'm not
thinking straight."

He nodded and then moved a step away as his cell phone rang.
He
answered it and quickly explained what he wanted the other detectives
to do. Then he turned back to me, his expression slightly less stormy
than a moment before. He pocketed the cell phone and crossed to where I
stood.

"Get your things, Jess. I'm going to take you - somewhere." He
blew
out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "What the hell am I
supposed to do with you today?" Frustration fairly radiated off of him.

"Just take me to your place. I'll be good and stay there."

"What I want to do is put you on a plane and send you far from
here
until I get this thing solved. But I don't trust you not to come back
and fall right into the middle of trouble - again."

"Then take me with you. I promise to keep out of your way."

For a moment, he looked like he'd swallowed something very
foul
tasting. Then his expression changed and he nodded once before pointing
at my desk, reminding me he was waiting.

"I may just do that. At least until I hear something from
Davalos.
Maybe by the time I have, I'll have figured out what the hell I'm going
to do with you."

He turned and walked across the classroom to
stare out the window. I watched, appreciating the sight despite
everything that had happened. As I watched, that part of me that lusted
after his very fine ass, especially the way it was shown off by his
black slacks, knew exactly what I wanted him to do with me. But the
rational part, the part that remembered why we'd broken up, told the
lust to shut up. Still, it would be one way to spend the day.

Potentially a very fun way.

God, what was happening to me?

"Thanks, Dunham. Let me know if you find anything."

Colton replaced the receiver in its cradle and leaned back,
blowing
out a breath as he did. Before I could ask, he quickly scribbled a few
notes on a sheet of paper and slid it into the file folder he'd been
working from all morning. There was a frustration to him that I'd seen
come and go with each phone call. It was a frustration that fed my own
and made sitting there "like a good little girl" harder with each
passing moment.

Who was I kidding? It got harder with each passing hour. I'd
been
sitting at the desk across from Colton's for more than three hours.
Three hours during which, if I even acted like I was going to stand up,
it earned me a glare and an angry finger jabbing at the chair. It felt
like I was back in school again, serving detention. Which, in a way, I
was. But this time I didn't deserve it. I wasn't the one who had done
anything wrong, and I resented being the one to be punished.

"That was one of the detectives at the school," Colton said.
"So
far, they haven't been able to narrow down who you heard. But they're
still working on it. The problem is, there was one door that had been
left open for the football players to enter and stow their books, etc.
So anyone who knows the routine would have been able to get inside."

"Yeah." I took a sip of coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste.
God,
the shows are right. Cop coffee is the worst in the world. How they can
do that to a perfectly good coffee bean is beyond me. It ought to be
criminal.

"Sorry." Colton smiled and took the cup from me. "It's really
bad, isn't it?"

"Bad doesn't even begin to describe it."

"I'll get you something that actually resembles coffee in a
few minutes. I just need to check on a few things first."

"Colton." I couldn't keep the frustration or impatience out of
my
voice. "We're inside the police station, a frigging fortress if you
will. Nothing's going to happen if I go down the hall to the vending
machine or restroom by myself."

"Oh, that's not what I'm worried about." He waited, expecting
me to
say something. When I didn't, he leaned back and pinned me with a firm
look. "Jess, I know you. I know you don't like any of this and I know
you're pissed. I would be, too. But I also remember all too well how
you slipped out of the apartment this morning because you didn't like
the restrictions and were mad at me. I'm not about to risk you pulling
a repeat performance."

I wanted to argue with him, but I couldn't. Not when that was
exactly what I'd been thinking about doing.

"I promise I won't go anywhere but the ladies room and the
vending
machine." I held up my left hand and crossed my heart with my right,
trying my best to let him see I meant it. Which, surprisingly, I did.
"I'll even bring you back something."

For a moment, he just looked at me, his eyes intent, as he
tried to decide whether he could trust me or not.

"All right. But if you're not back here in five minutes, I'm
sending the entire squad after you."

I was on my feet and moving across the squad room before he
could change his mind.

Still, as I studied my reflection in the mirror over the sink
in the
ladies' room a few minutes later, part of me wanted to run. I wanted to
run far and fast. I wanted to put the last few days behind me. No, what
I really wanted was to be able to turn back the clock somehow and keep
everything - Manny's murder, the attack on me, everything - from taking
place. But that wasn't going to happen. So I had to find a way to deal
with it.

And, whether I liked it or not, that meant finding a way to
deal
with Colton and what had happened between us. Why can't life just be
simple?

I returned to the squad room in time to see Colton check his
watch
before glancing in my direction, irritation turning to relief. Now,
whether it was relief to see me, or the two cups of vending machine
coffee I held, I wasn't sure. But it didn't really matter. I'd proven
to him that I wasn't going to do anything foolish - at least not right
this moment - so he could concentrate on his job.

He climbed to
his feet and moved toward me as I crossed the squad room in his
direction. Once he reached me, he took the cup I held out to him and
nodded in appreciation. Then, taking my arm with his free hand, he
escorted me back into the corridor.

"What?" My brow creased with concern as I looked up at him.
"Colton, has something happened?"

"No. Nothing's happened," he replied as we stopped before the
elevators and he pressed the Up button. "Davalos called while you were
gone and wants to see you. I told her I'd bring you right up."

"Davalos? Did she say what she wanted? Do you think she has
some answers about what happened?"

"Jess, I really don't know. I wouldn't think she'd have her
lab
results back, but she might have enough evidence to make a prelim call
on the cause of the fire." He paused as the elevator doors opened.
Three people, two I assumed were detectives and a third in handcuffs,
stepped off. With his hand at the small of my back, Colton escorted me
inside the elevator car. He stayed silent until he'd programmed it for
the sixth floor, three above ours, and the doors once more slid shut.

"Jess." Now he looked at me as if he was worried about
something and
my heart skipped a beat. "Look, I really don't know why she wants to
see you. It might be as simple as she has a few more questions for you.
But I want you to remember that no matter what she says, what she asks,
she is trying to get to the truth of what happened. Listen closely to
her. If you don't understand anything she asks, let her know. Most of
all, keep that temper of yours in check."

"Colton, you're scaring me."

That was an understatement, especially since it sounded as if
he
thought Davalos might believe I had something to do with the fire. Why
else would he tell me to listen closely and ask if I had any questions?
Dear God, this was a nightmare and I just wanted to wake up.

"I don't mean to, Jessie. Really. But Davalos is good at her
job,
very good. That means she doesn't wrap anything in cotton and try to
make nice. It also means she'll ask the hard questions, perhaps
questions you don't want to think about, much less answer."

"Colton, I promise you there's nothing she can ask I don't
want to
answer." Anger flared and I bit down on it. I was tired of this
emotional roller coaster I'd been on since Saturday afternoon. "All I
want is to find out who killed Manny and who set fire to my house, if
anyone actually did."

"Good." He nodded and gave me a little smile as the elevator
lurched
slightly before coming to a halt. The doors slid open with a grinding
sound that bothered me more than the thought that Davalos could
believe, even for a moment, that I had anything to do with what
happened to my house. I quickly stepped into the corridor, promising
myself I'd take the stairs when the time came to return to Colton's
squad room.

"Okay, when you're done here, have Davalos let me know. I'll
come
back up for you." He paused outside a pair of glass doors with
Arson Squad
painted
on them.

"You're not coming in with me?" That surprised me and, for the
first
time, I realized I wanted him with me. I wanted the protection and
guidance he would give me.

"I can't. This is her investigation and I don't want to step
on her
toes. Right now, she's willing to cooperate with me because there's the
possibility that what happened to your house is related to what
happened at Manny's. But I don't want to push so hard she changes her
mind." His fingers curled around mine and he gave my hand a quick
squeeze. "You'll be all right. Just remember what I told you."

"Okay." I drew a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to
come. "But you'll be there when I'm done?"

"Unless something on the case breaks. If it does, I'll call
and let
you know," he promised and opened the door for me. As he did, I saw
Davalos getting to her feet across the room before moving in our
direction.

"Go on," I said softly and, after one last look at him, turned
and stepped through the glass doors.

I stopped just inside the squad room and quickly glanced
around.
Where there was a sort of organized chaos downstairs in Homicide, here
there was a different feel, one I couldn't quite identify. It was as
though they were waiting for the next shoe to drop. True, the four
investigators sitting at their desks seemed busy enough. Several were
on the phone, their expressions intent. The others seemed to be working
on case files. But there was none of the buzz here that there was in
Homicide, and that made me nervous. Especially when the four paused in
what they were doing to watch Davalos greet me.

"Ms. Jones, let's go back to the conference room. We'll be
able to
relax a bit more there than we can out here," she said after shaking my
hand. Then she turned and wove her way through the desks to a door on
the far wall. She paused there, waiting until I joined her. Then she
closed the door behind us and motioned for me to have a seat.

I did as she said and took a moment to look around. The
utilitarian
furnishings and bland décor didn't surprise me. It was much the same as
what I'd found down in Homicide. But what did surprise me was the sight
of the whiteboard, filled with notes and photos of what had been my
house. Then, before I could study the notes too closely, Davalos simply
flipped the board over and took the chair opposite me.