a Touch of Ice (22 page)

Mitch did a palms up. “Not a clue. I’ll go over the photos again…”

“You said he worked at a garage, right?” I asked. “Do either of you know if it was searched?”

Mitch nodded. “I ran that by Adam early on. Tony owned the garage and he spent more time there than at home.”

“Seems to me,” Annie piped in, “that Pestorelli would have turned that garage inside out. If I’d lost something that belonged to Delano West, you better believe I’d be all over finding it. That little black bag means life or death to him.”

“You almost ready?” Mitch called up the stairs. He’d gone to the grocery store while I was packing and straightening the house.

“I’ll be right there.”

“Need any help?”

“Nope. I’m not bringing that much, just a change of clothes for tomorrow.” I met him in my office, handed him my overnight bag. “If you could put this in the car, I’ll lock the door, and we can go.”

The farther away from my house we got, the more wrong it felt. I reached over and rested my hand on Mitch’s thigh. I wanted there to be contact between us when I told him I couldn’t spend the night at his place. “Mitch?”

“Um-hmm.”

He was concentrating on the traffic, and I debated waiting until we got out of the city before I said anything, but that didn’t make any sense. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to stay at your house tonight.”

He veered into a parking lot, shut off the engine, and looked at me. “Want to run that by me again?”

“I have a bad feeling about this. The farther we get from my house, the twitchier I’m getting. How about if we pick up your things and come back here to stay the night?”

“What’s this all about? I thought you were looking forward to spending the night at my place?”

“I was. Still want to. Just not tonight.”

“What am I missing? Did you touch something I don’t know about?”

“No. It’s my intuition. Lame, I know.”

He shook his head and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking from his expression. Or more accurately, his lack of expression.

“Okay. I don’t understand. I don’t like it. But this isn’t a good time for either of us to question your…gifts. More than once you’ve said something, done something strange without… touching. Is there something you haven’t told me?”

His words slammed into me. I hadn’t told anyone about the walls talking to me at Tony’s house. Wasn’t going to if I could help it, because, damn that was just too crazy. I settled for a half-truth. “No. I…you’re right. The spidey sense, prickly neck sensations seem to be getting stronger and more frequent.”

I also hadn’t told Mitch about touching Annie’s deck rail and getting images of Pierce in the stable. It was unusual for me to get “secondhand” images like that. It threw me, picking up on his thoughts, especially since they were exactly what I
intended
to see, and I needed to get comfortable with what that could mean before I tried to share the info with someone else. Even Mitch.

“You’re surprised that your intuition is getting stronger?”

“Yeah. I am.” I thought for a minute. “Maybe it’s because of the danger. Everyone’s spidey sense gets stronger when they’re being chased by bad guys. Or chasing bad guys, as the case may be.”

He wrapped his hand around my neck, pulled me to him for a kiss, then started the car. “Do you want me to bring you back now, or do you want to come along for the drive?”

“I want to go with you. At least we’re guaranteed a few hours of normalcy.”

His lips twitched. “Normalcy, she says. Life with you, Sunshine, it isn’t for the faint of heart.”

“But you like me.”

“Yeah. I like you.”

The rest of the trip was uneventful. I immediately regretted my decision not to stay when I saw Mitch’s master bedroom. With windows opening to the night sky, it was like floating in the clouds. Romantic. Peaceful. Beautiful. When this whole Tony-diamonds-West thing got straightened out, I was definitely going to spend the night in that bed. Maybe more than one night. The moon, stars…Mitch…were calling to me.

We got back at my place in a little over two hours. Annie must have seen us drive in because she stood, arms crossed, on her front porch. “What are you doing back here? This was supposed to be a romantic evening for you guys.”

Mitch pointed at me. “She got twitchy.”

“Oh. Yeah. Me too. I spent the afternoon cleaning and checking every weapon I own. I’ve learned when I get the itch between my shoulder blades, it means I should be in secret agent mode. And it feels to me like all hell is about to break loose.”

I suppose a comment like that coming from Annie should have scared me, but it actually made me feel better.

Maybe my twitchiness wasn’t so weird after all.

And then all hell broke loose.

Twenty-five

Before I heard the explosion, before it consciously registered that something was terribly wrong, Mitch knocked me to the ground and covered my body with his.

Guess you learn to respond like that when you work in war zones.

I wriggled around, opened my eyes to see Annie standing over us in full protective mode with weapon drawn. “Across the street, behind the house. Someone in the trees, but he’s out of range. We’re clear here.”

She handed her gun to Mitch, pulled out her cell, and punched in numbers. It vaguely registered that she was reporting a fire at my address.

When my brain finally kicked in, I rolled to my feet in a single motion, the smell of burning wood stinging my nose and clogging my throat. “What the—”

Annie nodded toward the back of my house where flames were licking at the sky.

Not okay. This was not okay at all.

Mitch grabbed my shoulders before I could take off. “Hold it. Stay behind me. I have the gun.”

He had a point. The sight of it skittered along my nerves. I really
had
to do something about that response. But not right now.

“Both of you stay here.” Annie’s secret agent voice rooted me in place. “I didn’t hand you the gun, Mitch, so you could chase down bad guys, I handed it to you on the off chance the badass with the Molotov cocktail decided to circle back around.”

“Molotov cocktail?” My mind struggled to keep up.

“Yep.”

She grabbed my handbag from my shoulder and dug out my key ring. “I’m going to look through your house, see if anything is out of place.”

I started to follow her, not sure if I wanted to go inside or veer off and circle around the back to see what was going on. The blaring siren and flashing lights of emergency vehicles pouring into the cul-de-sac interrupted my decision.

Mitch was quickly tagged by one of the firemen, and deep into answering questions. I headed for my front door at a run. Annie should
not
be in my house. Fire. Burning. How could I be so damn stupid? Out. Had to get her out.

I was halfway up the front steps when strong hands grabbed my shoulders, jerked me away from the door. “Ma’am, you can’t go in there. Get back. Over there behind the fire trucks.”

I whirled. My nose bumped into his chest and I pushed out of his hold, looking up, and up, until I met his gaze. Big guy. Strong. I wrestled against his grasp, incoherent, wild sounds escaping from my throat as he hauled me over his shoulder and ran toward the line of fire trucks. The pressure of his shoulder in my gut and the jarring bounce of his steps knocked my brain into gear. “Annie’s in there.”

“Person or pet?” He shot the question at me, dropped me to the ground in front of him, and steadied me before pushing me into the hands of another fireman.

“Person.”

“We’ll get her out. Stay away from the house.”

My stomach quivered with the rush of adrenaline, and I spun on the fireman holding my arm. “I’m okay. Not going to run back into the fire.”

Mitch appeared. Must have see the big guy take off with me and chased after us. He took over from the fireman, cradling me against his chest.

“Annie. My fault. I should have stop—”

“Not sure anyone has ever stopped Annie from doing anything. Fire’s under control, and look—” he pointed toward the front porch— “there she is.”

I started to drag Mitch toward the house. He dug in. “Just so you know, I won’t be questioning your intuition in the future, but it would be easier if we could sometimes pretend it’s a logical, rational thing.”

“Right. No problem with that, but Annie—”

The oversized fireman stood on my porch with Annie slung over his shoulder. Exactly what I must have looked like a few minutes before. She pummeled his back with her fists, raw anger twisting her face into a grimace. He deposited her unceremoniously on the front steps and stood over her, yelling. What with all the noise, I could only catch the part of what he said.

Probably just as well.

From the way she was pounding on him, there was no doubt she hadn’t been hurt. Coughing from deep in her gut but not seriously injured.

The nearest paramedic put an oxygen mask over her face. She took a few breaths and pulled it off. “Thanks…” Her mouth form the word before she started coughing again.

Mitch stopped me from breaking into a run. “Wait a sec. I don’t think you want to interrupt this.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

He slid his hand into mine and winked. “I’m a guy, and even I can see the sparks flying between them.” He raked his gaze up and down my body, checking me out with laughter shining in his eyes. “You okay? Nothing damaged?’

“Um-hmmm. Save that thought for later, okay?” I was distraced, watching Annie and the fireman. Mitch had a point about sparks flying. The hot flash kind. “How did I miss that?”

Mitch followed my line of vision and chuckled. “You’ve moved from worrying about her health to worrying about her love life.”

I elbowed him. “It’s obvious which one she’s thinking about.”

I inched closer, tugging Mitch along. I
had
to hear what was going on.

Annie gulped some water, visibly swallowing her mad along with the liquid. She didn’t take her eyes away from him. After she emptied the bottle of water, he motioned to the oxygen mask, and she obediently covered her nose and mouth. Interesting.

After a few breaths, she slid the mask off. “Thanks.” She held out her hand and grinned. “I’m Annie Stone.”

His hands were big, warm—I knew that from when he’d wrapped both of them around my shoulders to keep me from going into the house. I could almost feel the connection when they touched. “Sean Martin. Pleased to meet you Annie Stone.”

“She introduced herself as Annie Stone.” I glanced at Mitch. “I hope we’re all ready for the repercussions of that, especially Adam. Think we can interrupt yet? My curiosity—”

“I know. You’re going to explode if you don’t find out what’s going on.”

We closed the distance, and I offered my hand to the big guy. “I’m Everly Gray. Thank you for saving my friend and my home.” I sorted through the images that were flashing on my internal monitor. A good guy. More information than I was ready to see about the damage inside my home and the charred remains of my deck, but his reaction to Annie was pure male. Protective. Interested.

“Sean Martin.” He shook hands with Mitch and jerked his chin toward Annie. “She’s a stubborn one. Wouldn’t give up the fire extinguisher. Wouldn’t listen to me. Had to carry her out.”

Annie glared at him again. “I’m more comfortable being on the fighting end of things in this kind of situation.”

“Sometimes, Ms. Stone, the fight belongs to someone else.”

One of the other fireman motioned to Sean. He turned to follow, stopped, looked at each of us in turn, then pointed to the ground in front of us. “Stay here. Don’t any of you move.”

Annie dug her cell out of her pocket, pushed a button. “Wonder where Adam is?” She reached for the oxygen mask, took a few breaths. “He must have picked up the call by now.”

While Annie was talking to Adam, Sean came up behind me. “We’re done here, Ms. Gray. Fire’s out, but this is a crime scene, which means there’ll be an arson investigator in addition to the regular tech unit going through the premise. Also, the structural damage has to be evaluated before you can go inside. There’s smoke and water damage, and your back deck is gone. Crime scene people should be here soon. A builder can assess the situation, let you know see if it’s sound or if you need repairs before moving back in.”

His eyes strayed to Annie and she smiled up at him, snapped her phone shut. “El and Mitch can stay with me tonight.” She pointed toward her front door and the discreet sign that read:
A New Perspective, Private Inquiry
. “I live there.”

“You’re a private investigator?”

“Yeah, I—”

Their conversation was interrupted when one of the other firemen yelled at Sean to get a move on. We went through the thank you routine and the trucks pulled away, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. The reality of what happened to my home, to my life, hit me with enough force that I abruptly dropped next to Annie, head in hands. She wrapped her arm around me, gave me a quick hug. “You okay?”

“No.”

Mitch cradled my shoulder in a warm hand. “Want to pretend this didn’t happen, at least until tomorrow morning?”

“No.” I stood, dragged in an acrid, smoky breath that caught in my throat and tasted like chemicals. “I want to look around, see the damage. And I want to touch things before the images start to fade.”

The frown lines accenting Annie’s mouth and the worry clouding her eyes telegraphed a signal to Mitch. They were about to go into protective mode, so I gathered up my determination and headed for the back yard before they could scrape an argument together. Not that they didn’t follow me, so close on my heels I could feel them breathing.

I catalogued the damage, so much worse first hand than through the images I’d picked up from touching Sean. The shaking started in my knees and spread through my limbs. Anger simmered, built to a rage.

My personal space had been violated twice in as many days.

I had so wanted to be an adult about this, but no go. Didn’t even try to fight it. I absorbed the damage to my deck, the shattered window, and the wet, black, crumbing wall that used to be my kitchen. And then I let loose, gave in to the rage storming through my body. I gave the bastards a piece of my mind complete with tears, stamping feet, and the fierce pounding fists on mother earth—the whole shebang. A tantrum good enough to make a two-year-old proud.

I finished with a deep breath, then graced my audience of three with a bow, bent and picked up my hair clip.

“That was worth a front row seat,” Mitch said, shaking his head. “You feel better now, Sunshine?”

“Much better.” I caught Annie’s attention. “If I could trouble you for two fingers of that single-malt scotch you and Mitch are so fond of, I’d be grateful. Then I’ll go upstairs and touch things.”

Adam had arrived during my temper tantrum and hung back, away from the action. He approached us, slowly, eyes tracking between Mitch and Annie. “How about you take El to your house, Sis? Nothing can be touched until after the fire inspector and crime scene unit check things out. Besides—” he sent a cautious look in my direction.

Apparently my Oscar-winning performance didn’t inspire confidence.

But I was fine.

Just fine.

I spun to face him. “Seriously, you’re suggesting I put this off until tomorrow. Right? Well, I’m going in there. I’m turning my fingers lose on whatever to pick up any and all images before they fade or are obliterated by other people touching them before I do. Don’t even think about stopping me, Detective Stone.”

He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket, jiggled them in front of me. “Interfering with an investigation, obstructing justice. Name your preference.”

“You’re not going to stop me, Adam. You need the information available through my fingertips as much as, maybe more, than what your crime scene techs will find.”

The fire left his eyes. “That’s my job,” he grunted, “not yours.”

“Thanks, Annie,” I said as she handed me the glass of scotch. I took a swallow and turned back to Adam. “Your job. My home. Annie’s safety. Home and Annie trump job, period.” I marched inside, determined to find answers. Mitch fell into line behind me, followed by Annie, followed by a reluctant Adam.

With all of us stomping around up there, I hoped the kitchen didn’t land in my office. Annie handed each of us latex gloves before I pushed through my front door. I tugged them on and took the steps two at a time, not breathing until I topped the stairs. Then I sucked in a fortifying breath. Bad move. I staggered at the intensity of the cloying, acrid scent, so much more intense inside than out. The smoke and chemicals burned my throat, made my eyes water. I stood there, fighting tears and a gag reflex, as shock crept through me. Some shards of glass caught the light, and I moved to the broken window, reached down, touched the glass.

The only sensation that passed through my fingers was a flash of bright light. I picked my way through the debris as I headed toward the deck, careful to disturb as little as possible. Adam stopped me. “No. There’s a good chance the structural integrity is compromised and it won’t support you. We don’t need you dropping two stories.”

“I just need to be close enough to reach that piece of glass, the green shard just beyond the window ledge.”

Even with my arm stretched practically out of the socket, I couldn’t quite reach the shard. “Mitch, will you hand me the tongs out of that drawer you’re standing in front of?”

As he turned to open the drawer, I noticed the grass stains on his pants, the bed-head spikes of hair, the worry shadowing his eyes. My breath caught. Damn. We’d been in danger. I’d put him in danger. My house. My fault. I blinked away the fear that stung my eyes. Not my fault. This was all on Delano West.

I glanced down, taking in the muddy grass stains on the knees of my once-gray sweats, the streaks of soot from where I’d rubbed my hands down my thighs. I was a mess. We were a mess.