Slow Burn (12 page)

“I’m waiting, cuz, or is my coffee
off-limit?”

He laughed. “Faith was concerned after the
two of you spoke. I promised her I’d stop by.”

She was going to smother Faith. She loved her
cousin dearly, but Faith’s overprotective instincts could drive
anyone to plot her death. “As you can see, I’m a picture of perfect
health.”

“It’s a good thing I came up,” Baron added as
he headed for the door. “Probably stopped Noble from charming more
than hypnosis out of you.” He paused near the door to study her.
“Ash, promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t trust him.”

Unease coursed through her at his tone.
Should she take the rumors about Ron’s relative being an arsonist
seriously? “I can take care of myself.”

“Good. I’d hate to see you get hurt by a
Noble, again.” Baron opened the door and left.

Eyes on the closed door, Ashley forked her
fingers through her hair and dropped her forehead on the counter.
The headache that had started earlier was now a hurricane slamming
repeatedly against her temple.

Could Ron be hiding something or was she
allowing her cousin’s words to get to her? No, Ron wasn’t cold and
unfeeling enough to seek her help if he already knew the identity
of the arsonist.

CHAPTER 6

Ron gripped the steering wheel and squinted
as he replayed the conversation between him and Baron Fitzgerald.
How much did the man know? From his ‘your family has done enough to
hurt her,’ probably quite a bit.

The rumors, again. Unsubstantiated and
damaging. For years, he had foolishly let them point him in wrong
directions, doubting his father’s heroism. Chances were Ashley
would, too, especially when the source of the information was a
relative. Ron cursed under his breath. The last thing he needed was
to have her turn against him. Not now.

No one and nothing must stand in the way
of this investigation.
After the last letter and those
pictures, he now knew this wasn’t a blackmail scheme concocted by
some deranged person. Someone out there wanted him to find out what
happened that night. He didn’t know or care about their motive. The
truth was out there and he’d be damned if he didn’t uncover it.

He signaled to change lanes, glance in the
rearview mirror and waited for a biker to pass. The biker didn’t,
just slowed down. Ron switched lanes and entered a side street.
Frowning, his gaze bounced between the street ahead and his
rearview mirror. After a few more detours, he knew he hadn’t been
mistaken. Someone was tailing him.

At first, he thought it was coincidence when
the biker pulled behind him outside of Ashley’s building. With a
helmet, aviator glasses and a beard, it was impossible to see his
face, but then again, it didn’t really matter. His uncle’s men came
in different shapes and sizes. They never bothered to make contact,
just watched him and reported to his persnickety uncle.

Good ol’ Uncle Gregory had assigned people to
follow Ron since he’d become old enough to drink, and it wasn’t
always because he cared about his welfare. The older man lived and
breathed Neumann Security. Since his grandmother retired and his
uncle started to run the company, all the executives were expected
to follow the company’s code of conduct. Archaic couldn’t begin to
describe the rules. Ron broke them so often, every meeting with his
uncle and grandmother started with a lecture.

Ron pulled up outside the building that
housed Neumann Security Inc., but instead of getting out of the
car, he watched the biker pull into the parking lot across the
street. When the man glanced his way, Ron knew he hadn’t been
mistaken.

He left his car and entered the building. At
the security desk, he quickly outlined to the guard what he wanted
him to do before he headed toward the elevator.

His usually poised secretary, Nicole Weber,
was waiting for him when he stepped off the elevator, her blonde
hair just a tad untidy and her glasses slipping down her shiny
nose.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Nicole said in
a way of greeting, then pushed her glasses in place and glared at
him.

“Let me guess,” Ron said with a slight grin.
“You’ve been trying to get hold of me the whole day.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir?” He shot her a glance from the
corner of his eye. She dogged his footsteps, an imposing figure in
six-inch heels. He didn’t know how she could balance her
five-foot-nine frame in those narrow spikes. “What have you done
with my real secretary? You know, the sassy woman who never curbs
her tongue and is allergic to the word ‘sir’.”

“I’m not yet done…sir. Your mother’s
assistant didn’t know where to find you. The dispatcher at the Kern
Valley whatchumicallit—”

“Hotshot…the best wildfire firefighters in
the state,” he supplied.

“Needs lessons in phone etiquette,” she
finished as though he hadn’t spoken. “She thought you were still at
the conference in San Diego. Even after I told her that I spoke
with some of your buddies.”

“Okay, Nikki, out with it.” He stopped
walking all together to stare at her. He couldn’t recall ever
seeing her so rattled, except….

“He is here,” she whispered.

Only one person had that effect on her. “When
did he arrive?”

“This morning. He and the boys are in your
office. I didn’t know what to do when he asked for the McClain
Group file. I tried to hold him off, but he threatened to fire
me.”

“He can’t fire you.”

“He can’t? Are you sure?”

Ron smiled reassuringly at her. “I run this
branch, not my uncle. Why didn’t you just call me on my cell
phone?”

She gave him a disgusted look. “I tried. It
kept going to the voice mail, so I, uh, gave him the file and—”

“It’s okay, Nikki. And thanks for the
warning.” Then he pushed the door open and stepped into his
office.

Papers and files were all over the coffee
table, the sofas and his desk. Across the coffee table from his
uncle was Stanley, his uncle’s younger son. Occupying Ron’s desk
was the other son, royal pain-in-the-ass William. The three of them
looked up when he stepped into the room.

His uncle’s face was unreadable as usual.
Stanley was so much in awe of his adopted father he had a perpetual
whipped-puppy expression. The defiant, angry glance William shot
Ron lasted only a few seconds before a polite mask slid into place,
but he hadn’t expected the red carpet. William resented not having
Neumann blood in his veins. Stanley, on the other hand, couldn’t
care less.

“Uncle Gregory…guys, what a surprise seeing
you all here.”

“Good afternoon, Ronald. I heard you were at
a firemen’s convention.” His uncle didn’t bother to look up as he
spoke. His gaze stayed on the pad before him. “I was told you
weren’t due back until Saturday.”

Which one of his employees was his uncle’s
spy? Knowing the old man, he probably had several.

“I needed to come back early.” Since his
uncle didn’t care a rat’s tail about anything outside work, he
didn’t bother to elaborate. Instead, Ron turned to stare down at
William, who still sat behind his desk. “Do you mind?”

William was a year older than he, Stanley two
years his junior. When they were younger, the two would gang up on
him and beat the crap out of him. They got him in trouble with both
his grandmother and his uncle more often than he cared to count.
Things changed when he’d turned thirteen and hormones kicked in.
Now a mean look was all it took to keep them at bay.

Without a word, William jumped up from the
chair and started to gather the papers on the desk. When Ron spied
the contract from McClain Group, he reached for it at the same time
as William. A tug of war ensured.

“Let him have it, William.” His uncle gazed
at Ron from the rim of his glasses. “I told him to use your desk,
Ronald. There’s no need to act childish.”

Ron ignored the dig, waited until William
joined his brother and father around the coffee table before he
said, “Nikki told me you requested to see the file on McClain
Group, Uncle Gregory. What’s going on?”

“We are not the only west coast firm vying
for the McClain Group contract for this region, that is what’s
going on,” his uncle said impatiently. “We need their account to
put this company in the national limelight where it belongs. I know
you and McClain’s son had set a meeting for next week.” He patted
William’s back. “My boy here convinced McClain Senior to push the
meeting forward.”

Ron ignored William’s triumphant look and
fixed his gaze on his uncle. It was true that Neumann Security was
a regional company, with offices in Nevada and California only.
Working with McClain Group, with its chains of hotels and retail
stores, would give them a lot of national exposure and an edge in
the competitive world of security and surveillance. “I see. Where
and when?”

“Five o’clock tomorrow at their head office
in New York. I expect you to be at the airport tomorrow morning at
nine, Ronald. We’ll leave at nine-thirty.”

A five o’clock meeting could go on until late
at night. To make it to Ashley’s place on Saturday morning, he’d
have to catch the red eye, if he was lucky. “Damn.”

“If you have a prior engagement, Ron, I can
close the deal for you,” William offered.

I bet you would, you self-righteous
prick.
“I’ll be there,” his told his uncle firmly, ignoring his
cousin.

His uncle jerked his chin toward the door.
“William, Stanley, I need to discuss something with your cousin.
Wait outside.”

While his cousins packed up and left the
room, Ron walked to the window and searched for the biker. He was
still there. When his uncle cleared his throat, Ron turned around
and resigned himself to another lecture.

“I don’t care what plans you have lined up,
Ronald,” Gregory stated firmly, “I want you on the jet first thing
tomorrow morning. You must focus on this deal and nothing else. We
can’t afford another screw up.”

The muscle ticking on Ron’s cheek was the
only sign that he resented the talk down. So what that he chose to
be by a friend’s side after a fire accident rather than make a
meeting, big deal. He’d made up for it several times over, but his
uncle was determined never to forget it. “Why are you asking me to
accompany you if you’re so sure I’ll mess things up?”

“McClain’s son insisted that you be there.
William could easily have finished the negotiation. He knows the
inner workings of this company, but we must go with our client’s
wishes.” His uncle got up. “Just remember what I told you. No
screw-ups. If you think you can’t give it your best shot, do me
favor and let me do the talking.”

Not if he could help it. This was his deal.
“I’m ready.”

“Good.” His uncle removed his glasses to
scowl at him. “Now, what’s this nonsense I hear about you
investigating the fire at Carlyle House?”

Ron blinked, totally blindsided. How did he
find out? His mother had promised to keep everything to herself.
“I’d hardly call it nonsense, sir. Someone out there suspects an
arsonist started the fire and wants me to find out who it was.”

A disdainful laugh escaped his uncle. “The
fire happened ten years ago. No one cares about how it
started.”

“I do. I want to prove that the rumor about
my father starting it was false. So does Mom.”

His eyes became cold. “I don’t know who
started the rumor. It’s not true. Convince your mother of that and
stop this investigation.” He put his glasses back on and picked up
his suitcase as though the matter was closed and then started for
the door.

Blood roaring in his ears and heart pounding,
Ron took a few steps forward and effectively blocked his uncle’s
path. At six-one, the older man was a couple inches shorter than
Ron, but was wider in girth and in great shape for someone his age.
All in all, an imposing figure, but this was one time Ron wouldn’t
be intimidated. There was too much at stake.

His uncle stopped short, glared at him. “What
are you doing? I have an important meeting in exactly,” he glanced
at his watch, “thirty minutes.”

“This is important, too, sir.” He searched
his uncle’s furious expression. “How did you know I was
investigating the fire?”

“Stop wasting my time, Ronald.” His uncle
glowered. “If you have something to say to me, say it,” he
snapped.

“You’ve been sabotaging my investigation, and
I want to know why.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ron didn’t buy his outrage. “I tried to
interview my father’s former colleagues. Every last one of them was
eager to talk about the old days until they learned who I was and
why I was calling them. Then they either had a prior engagement or
developed amnesia. No one wants to discuss my father or the fire.
When the P.I. I hired to investigate tried to follow through, the
men disappeared. Did you tell them not to talk to me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just found out your
mother’s started receiving those letters again.”

“Again? Are you saying someone had written to
her before? How come I was never informed?”

His uncle didn’t bother to answer him, just
slipped on his glasses. “Stop the investigation, Ronald. I’ll take
it from here.”

Over my dead body.
“I can’t. I need to
know what’s going on. What was in the letters Mother received
before? Did they imply my father started the fire?”

His eyes became cold. “Haven’t I made myself
clear? You will drop this investigation or else—”

“Or else what, Uncle Gregory? You will
withhold my allowance? Fire me?” Ron gave a humorless laugh. “I’m
not that young boy you used to withhold things from every time he
didn’t behave. You can’t threaten me, sir. Not anymore.” His voice
rose and the older man’s eyes bulged with rage. Or was it shock
that Ron dared to stand up to him? “Why don’t you want me to
investigate the fire? What are you afraid I’ll find?”