Wedding Bell Blues (9 page)

"Do let us know when you're on your way, Jess. I'll have your
mother call Maryanne and Brett so they know not to worry."

"Thanks." I watched as he hurried after Mama before turning
to Colton. "What now?"

"Diane Davalos, the arson investigator, will be over in a few
minutes to ask you some questions. Once she's finished, you'll need to
sign off on a couple of things. Then I can take you to your folks'."

I nodded. Well, if this Davalos wanted to ask me some
questions, she'd better be prepared to answer some as well.

Not long after that, probably no more than five minutes, a
tall, rangy
woman with short blonde hair and smoke-smudged features approached. She
was dressed like any other firefighter there, but I could tell she was
something more. There was something in her eyes, in the way she walked,
that reminded me of Colton and so many other cops I'd met over the
years. This was a woman on a mission and, whether I liked it or not, I
was her immediate goal.

Fine. I didn't mind that if it got my questions answered.

"Ms. Jones, I'm Detective Diane Davalos, FWPD." She stuck out
her
hand, seemingly unaware of the soot and other indicators of fire that
marked it. I ignored them and shook her hand, noting her grip was firm
even though she didn't try to overpower me with it.

"Detective, what happened to my house?"

Her right eyebrow lifted in surprise and she cocked her head
to one
side as she looked at me. So, I wasn't what she expected. Too bad. I'd
managed to hold it together so far. No way was I going to break down
now.

At least I hoped not.

"I was hoping you might be able to help me figure that out,"
she
replied, her voice a soft soprano that surprised me. What I'd expected,
I'm not sure, but it certainly wasn't that melodious voice.

"I don't know how. I wasn't here. Detective Dougherty can
tell you
that." I looked up at Colton, all but daring him to deny it. "He's the
one who called and told me I needed to get home."

"I understand, and all I meant was that I hoped you might be
able to help me narrow down the cause of the fire."

I blew out a breath and throttled back my emotions. "I'll
try."

For half an hour or more, we talked. No, I hadn't left any
appliances on when I left that morning. No, no candles had been lit, no
fire in the fireplace. My computer had been turned off and so had the
televisions. The furnace had been checked just a month ago and no
problems had been found. No, I hadn't smelled gas and nothing had
seemed out of the ordinary.

Finally, she paused and made a few notes in her notebook and
I
seized the opportunity to ask a question of my own. The only question
that really mattered as far as I was concerned.

"Detective, did someone set the fire?" I'm not sure where the
question came from, but it seemed the right one to ask, especially in
light of the questions Davalos had been asking.

"I told you she was sharp, Davalos," Colton said when she
looked up
at him, a flash of irritation crossing her expression. "I didn't say
anything to her. I didn't have to. Your questions were enough for her
to make the connection."

Well, that wasn't exactly true. He
had said he thought someone had started the fire. But, he was right
about her questions. They would have put the thought in my mind even if
he hadn't said anything.

Davalos frowned, obviously not happy. Well too bad. I'd asked
the
question and now I wanted an answer. I waited, my eyes never leaving
her face. Finally, she sighed and slumped against the side of her car.

"All right. This is preliminary and might change after all
the
evidence is examined. But, right now, everything I saw inside and,
every instinct I have says that this was arson. So, Ms. Jones, who
hates you enough to try to burn your house down around you?"

Even though I'd expected the question, or at least some
version of
it, hearing Davalos voice it hit me like a two by four to the face.
Blood roared in my ears and my lungs closed, making it even more
difficult to breathe than before. Fear ran through me, cold as ice, and
I struggled against it. I couldn't give in. Not if I was going to help
the cops determine what happened.

"No one." My voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Part of
me
registered Colton taking a step closer to me, only to be waved off by
Davalos. A quick glance at him surprised me. Anger and frustration
flashed across his expression before he noticed me watching him. Then
that mask of professionalism slid back into place.

"Detective, I'm a teacher at a private school. No gang
problems, no
students upset enough with me to do anything. Even if they were, they'd
more likely paper the house or shave cream my car. Not this." I waved
at the smoldering ruins of my house.
"Any former boyfriends or anything who might want to do this?"

I felt a blush creep up my neck. The last thing I wanted to
talk
about in front of Colton was my love life - not that there'd been much
of one the last couple of months or so. Taking the coward's way out, I
simply shook my head, praying she'd let the matter drop.

"There is one thing," Colton said, and I spun to stare at him
in
surprise. Then the explanation hit me and I staggered back a step, my
hand flying to my throat even as a strangled cry of disbelief escaped
my lips.

"What?" Davalos' voice was sharp, her eyes sharper as she
looked from me to Colton and back again.

"You heard about what happened at Manny's yesterday?" It was
more a
statement than a question and Davalos nodded slowly in response. "Jess
- Ms. Jones - was the witness."

Davalos blew out a long breath and ran a hand through her
hair.
Then she nodded once, emphatically. "You think this might be involved?"
she asked Colton.

"I think it's a possibility we can't ignore."

"All right. I'll see what I can come up with here. Probably
won't
have anything for at least a day or two. But I'll keep in touch."

"Appreciate it." He reached out and shook her hand, two
professionals agreeing to cooperate. "You through with her?" He jerked
his head in my direction and a quick surge of resentment flashed
through me, pushing down the fear. It was time they remembered I was
standing right there.

"Wait a minute." I held up a hand, hoping they realized I had
questions I needed answered. "That doesn't make any sense. How would
they know who I am, much less where I live?"

For a moment, Colton didn't say anything, not even when
Davalos
looked at him, waiting for him to answer. Worse, he shuffled his feet
in that little-boy way he always did when asked something he really
didn't want to answer. Recognizing it, my heart sank, and I knew I
wasn't going to like what he had to say, assuming he ever actually said
anything.

"Colton, just tell me."

He shuffled for a moment longer and then looked at me with a
sigh.
"I didn't know about this until right before I heard the call about the
fire," he began, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking a few
steps away before coming back. "But someone called the impound lot
wanting to know when they could pick up their car. The problem is, they
described your car to a tee to the guy on duty and he - idiot that he
is - supplied your name."

"He did what?" Davalos growled. I swear it. She growled and
her
eyes narrowed until she looked like she might take a swipe at Colton.
Not that I blamed her. I sort of felt the same way.

"What do you mean, he supplied my name?"

"I mean the caller described the car and then, when the clerk
said
it was there, they asked if it had been towed from downtown. The clerk
said it hadn't been, that they must be asking about another car. So the
caller said the car they were calling about was registered to an Andrew
Mitchell. The clerk - and don't look at me like you want to kill me, or
him, because I plan to deal with him myself just as soon as I can get
my hands on him - said no, it was registered to you."

"Damn it, Colton!"

"Ease down, Ms. Jones. I know you're upset -"

"You don't know upset, Detective Davalos," I snapped. "If my
house
was torched because some idiot working for the PD screwed up, someone
is going to have to pay."

"They will, Jess. Believe me."

The certainty in Colton's voice stopped me. He might have
spoken
softly, almost as if he was discussing the weather, but that didn't
fool me. I knew him - and his temper - too well. When he got like this,
he was dangerous. But what surprised me was that he was angry on my
behalf. Not because of me but because of something that might have been
done to me. I swallowed hard and fought my own anger back down to
somewhat more manageable levels.

"So what now?"

"You let me do my job," Davalos said. "I should have a report
out
in a couple of days. If this is connected to what happened yesterday, I
don't want to rush and miss something.

"In the meantime, I suggest you find somewhere to stay that
folks
won't initially expect. No need to run any unnecessary risks."

Stay somewhere people wouldn't expect? Well, that left out
both my
parents' house and Maryanne's apartment. And wouldn't they both be
thrilled to be told that bit of news. I could already hear my mother's
reaction. She would NOT be amused. Not at all.

But that didn't help me figure out where to go. I guess I
could
stay at a hotel. Maybe my insurance would pay for at least part of it.
Insurance. I needed to contact the claims department and get that ball
rolling. Of course, they wouldn't be quick to settle, not as long as
the police were looking into the cause of the fire. Well, standing here
brooding wasn't going to help me any. I needed to find a place to stay
and then get started on what I figured would be several mountains of
paperwork.

"Can I go now?"

"Yeah." She turned her attention to Colton. "I assume you'll
know where she is?"

"I will," he confirmed.

"Ms. Jones, I'll keep in touch," Davalos promised and before
striding off in the direction of what had once been my home.

"Let's get out of here, Jess," Colton suggested.

For a moment, I simply stood there, tears burning in my eyes.
It
still seemed so hard to believe that this wasn't just some bad dream. A
very bad dream. So many memories had been built around that house. So
much had been lost. But no one had been hurt. No other homes had been
damaged. That's what was important. I knew it in my heart. Still, it
was hard to just turn my back and walk away.

"Jess?"

"Colton, where can I go?" My voice broke and I scrubbed my
hands
over my cheeks, feeling the tears I'd fought for so long. "I can't go
to my parents' or Maryanne's. I won't put them in danger."

"Jess, look at me." Gently, he turned me so I faced him. "You
can
bunk at my place." I stiffened and he saw it. Hurt flashed across his
expression, gone as quickly as it came. "You have to admit, it's the
last place anyone who knows us would expect you to go."

Well, he was certainly right about that. Besides, if I was
honest
with myself, I knew he'd do everything he could to keep anything from
happening to me. Part of it was the cop in him. Part of it, the major
part, was simply because of who he was. He'd always done his best to
protect those who couldn't protect themselves and, right now, I didn't
have the faintest idea what to do to protect myself. Nor did I know
from whom I needed protection.

"Thanks." I reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze
before
letting go. "Just for a day or two until I figure out what to do."

"For as long as you want," he corrected. "Let's go. You can
call you parents and fill them in on the way to my apartment."

Call my parents. Oh goody. Wouldn't that be fun? Especially
when Mom realized where I was going to be spending the night.

I was sunk. There was absolutely no way I'd be able to
convince her
there was nothing between Colton and me except my need for a place to
hide. She'd always liked him, and now she would make it her life's
mission to get us back together again. I knew it and, as soon as he had
a chance to think about it, so would Colton. That was good. If I had to
worry about it, it was only fair that he did as well.

"I think I'll let you talk to my mother," I commented with an
innocent smile as he handed me into his car. "You can tell her that
they need to come get her car. Then you can tell her I'll be staying at
your place."

He stopped mid-motion and his hand tightened on the top of
the car
door until his knuckles shone white. I smiled slightly to see how pale
he'd gone as the implications of what I'd said hit him. Okay, I'm evil
and I love it. But it was good to know I wasn't the only one who
realized what a can of worms all this had opened.

"No," he croaked. "No and no and no and no." He shook his
head emphatically. "She's your mother. You get to tell her."

"Coward."

"Not arguing with you on this one. Your mother scares the hell
out of me."

I laughed softly, knowing exactly what he meant. "All right.
Let's
get out of here. Maybe something will happen and by the time we get to
your place, the bastards who are responsible for all this will have
been caught. Then we won't have to deal with my mother."

On that happy note, he hurried around the car and climbed in
behind
the steering wheel. Soon we were speeding out of the neighborhood, and
I wondered if he, like me, was considering the possibility of simply
driving as far and as fast as he could simply to put more distance
between the two of us and my mother.

The clock on the bedside table mocked me as it made its slow
crawl
towards morning. One seventeen. Great. I'd been in bed two hours. Two
hours when I hadn't closed my eyes for long and most certainly hadn't
been able to sleep. It's not that I wasn't tired. I was exhausted. But
I knew what waited for me the moment I let sleep come and I wasn't
ready for it, wasn't strong enough for it. Who could be?