Laura Scott - Primary Suspect

Only the fire had gotten out of hand really fast. There had been flammable material of some sort stored in a remote corner of the building that suddenly blew up with a ferocious roar, turning the fire directly toward them. Kent had freaked out a bit, clawing at his face mask, and that was when Mitch had realized the seal wasn’t tight enough and smoke was seeping up inside the mask, clogging Kent’s nose, mouth and eyes.

When Kent had collapsed, Mitch had tossed the kid over his shoulder and gotten him out of there as fast as humanly possible. But it had still taken much longer than he’d expected. The fire was so intense, he’d felt the breath of the dragon searing him from behind.

By the time he had gotten Kent outside and begun CPR, he’d known it was already too late. But he’d refused to stop, continuing to pump the young man’s chest in a fifteen-stroke rhythm while a paramedic on scene tried to force oxygen into his smoke-damaged lungs.

Kent had been declared dead thirty minutes later at barely twenty-three years old.

Yet Dana had come over to thank him. And what had he done in return?

Drawn her smack-dab into the middle of danger.

He was so lost in his thoughts, his coffee had grown cold. He forced it down and prepared to make a second cup. He briefly considered reaching out to Paul for help, but decided it wasn’t a good idea to put his buddy in danger, as well. When his coffee had finished brewing, he heard the sounds of Dana moving around next door.

Maybe he could hire his brother Mike, the only Callahan sibling to refuse to follow their father’s wishes of choosing careers that served the community. Mike ran his own private investigator business, and it was possible that he’d agree to watch over Dana for a while, until Mitch could be sure their assailant hadn’t used her license plate number to obtain her home address.

He and Mike had grown closer lately, partially because Mike was the only other Callahan who wasn’t married and popping out kids. As single guys, they’d banded together. Not that Mitch didn’t love his family, because he did. But their weekly Sunday brunches had gotten exponentially more crowded since three of his brothers and his sister had all fallen in love and gotten married.

He had imagined he’d go down that same path with Janice, and when that plan had crashed and burned, he decided Mike was right. Staying single was a lot easier than being in a relationship.

He pulled out his cell phone—the screen was cracked, but it still worked—and put in a call to his brother. Mike didn’t answer, so he left a message briefly explaining the events from last night and outlining his plan to hire him to watch over Dana.

When he disconnected from the call, he felt better having at least the semblance of a plan. Not perfect, but not terrible, either. Once he knew Dana was safe, he’d get in touch with Miles to let him know about Janice Valencia’s murder and the attempt to frame him.

The door between their connecting rooms opened and Dana hovered in the doorway, looking beautiful and fresh, as if she’d enjoyed a good night’s sleep. Too bad he couldn’t say the same.

“Would you like me to drop you off somewhere on my way home?” she asked, sipping from her own cup of coffee.

The fact that she was telling him her plans, not asking, was no surprise. He had anticipated something like this. And her offer to give him a ride was more than he’d dared to hope for.

“Yes, that would be great.” He approached cautiously, sipping his coffee and keeping an easy smile on his face. “I appreciate the offer.”

“I’d like to get going in the next fifteen minutes or so, if that’s okay.” She didn’t meet his gaze and he felt bad that he’d crossed some sort of invisible line last night. Making her feel uncomfortable was the last thing he’d wanted to do.

“Fine with me.”

“Good.” She stepped back and turned away. Moments later, he heard the door to her motel room open and close.

He quickly finished his coffee and joined her outside. It looked to be another nice summer day, and he wondered if she was scheduled to work again later that afternoon.

Dana didn’t say much as she slid in behind the wheel. He folded his large frame into the passenger seat, sliding the seat back as far as it would go so he had more leg room.

Once they were back on the highway, she turned to glance at him. “Do you want me to drop you off at the hospital so you can pick up your car? You should probably see the doctor again anyway. You need a course of antibiotics.”

“No, thanks. I’d like to check out your place, make sure it’s safe before I leave you there alone.”

She frowned, obviously annoyed, and her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s not necessary.”

“It is to me,” he said in a firm tone. If she insisted on taking him to the hospital, he’d lose precious time finding her address and then heading over to her house. And what if Mike hadn’t gotten his message yet? Mitch couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone and vulnerable.

“I’ll take you to the hospital,” she stubbornly repeated. “I’m sure that guy didn’t get my license plate number. It was dark and he was chasing us—I doubt he was able to memorize it that quickly.”

He hoped and prayed she was right. “Please humor me,” he said in a low voice. “It’s bad enough that you had to help me escape. Please let me be sure you’re safe. Once I know that your house is clear, I’ll go away and you’ll never hear from me again.”

There was a long pause before she gave a curt nod. “Fine.”

He let out his breath in a soundless sigh. “Thank you.”

She didn’t say anything more, but headed home. He recognized the neighborhood, a little surprised she and Kent were able to afford a house there. It was high-class, full of newly built homes on streets named after various birds. He knew what a rookie firefighter’s salary was, and while a nurse likely did pretty well, he was still surprised to see the home that was more than twice the size of his modest place.

“Wow,” he said when she pulled up in front of the garage. “You have a really nice home.”

She scowled. “Yeah. It’s big all right.”

He raised an eyebrow at her less-than-enthusiastic response. “Let me go in first, okay?”

She rolled her eyes and slid out from behind the wheel. “It’s not like you’re armed. What are you going to do if someone is here?”

Good point. “Do me a favor and stay in the car while I make sure the house is empty.”

“Use the code on the garage to get in. It’s 7272.” She slid back in behind the wheel and put the keys in the ignition.

He entered through the garage, staying off to one side as the door rolled upward. The garage was clean and mostly empty except for a few bins that were labeled as Christmas decorations.

No one was in there, so he made his way to the door leading into the house. He opened it as softly as possible and eased his way inside.

The garage door led into a spacious laundry room and from there, into the kitchen. The kitchen faced the spacious backyard through a set of patio doors. He moved silently through Dana’s house, looking for any sign that someone might have been there. The windows were all closed up tight, the air cool from the central air-conditioning. He preferred fresh air, but in this case he was glad she had kept everything closed up. Made it safer for her in the long run.

He didn’t find anything out of place. In fact the kitchen, living room and guest bedrooms were almost obsessively neat and tidy. Was that Dana’s doing? Must be, since it didn’t appear that she shared the place with anyone else.

The house was big so it took him a while to clear it. And when he came to the master suite, he felt like he was violating her personal space, opening up her closets, looking under her bed and checking the shower stall.