An Inner Fire (29 page)

Her stomach lurched at the smell of the omelet and potatoes that Davis had prepared. “Hard to imagine that someone deliberately damaged my little house.”

Davis sat next to her. “It’s okay. We’ll get through it.” He pushed her tangled hair away from her face. “Today is an R-and-R day. Tomorrow, when you’re rested, you can face that unpleasant job.”

She could only nod. This couldn’t be her life. She kept waiting to wake and find out it was another of her nightmares.

“I got you breakfast. I hope you’re hungry.” His tone was excited, enthusiastic for the breakfast he made. How could she disappoint him? She pretended a hunger she didn’t feel.

* * *

Davis’ upbeat mood, the comfort of Napoleon and Mitzi, and the strong Earl Grey helped lighten the gloom sitting in her stomach beside the omelet and fried potatoes. “The food was great. Thank you.”

She sipped her tea, watching Davis wander around the bedroom. The art on the walls was bold geometric shapes in gray and black and color coordinated with the bedding. An early picture of his family on the bedside stand was the only personal piece. Davis’ chubby five-year-old hand was intertwined with his mother’s.

“What is it, Davis?”

He hovered closer. His gaze clouded, impenetrable. “Seeing your house this morning…” He patted the poodle who lounged next to Grayce. “I’m glad Mitzi…”

Napoleon stood and rubbed his head against Davis’ thigh. “…And Napoleon…were there to protect you.”

Davis blamed himself for the fire. He saw it as a failure on his part. He should have told her about his suspicions; he should have watched out for her. He had confessed all of this last night. She ran her hand along the side of his face and leaned forward to kiss him. “You’ll get him.”

He returned her kiss, gently running his tongue along her lips, tasting her. “Him?”

She didn’t want to have this discussion not after last night. Didn’t he need her as much as she needed him? She wanted comfort and to give comfort. “The man on the wharf, he started the fire at my house, too.” She leaned forward to kiss him again.

Davis pulled away. “How do you know it was the same man?”

“He threatened me.”

“What?” Davis’ bellow reverberated in her ears. The animals scattered.

“What in the hell are you talking about, Grayce? I know who burned your house.”

Davis towered over her. She rearranged the pillow behind her back, trying to ignore his outburst. “You know who he is?”

“I found out this morning. He broke into my office. He used to be a firefighter.”

He crossed his arms across his chest. “Damn it, Grayce. Tell me about the threat.”

“He knocked me down my office steps. He said if I told you, he would kill you.”

Davis’ eyes were locked on her, his chest moving in and out at irregular bursts. “What? The suspect threatened you, and you didn’t tell me. I’m the investigator and your…” He rubbed his hand along his tightened jaw.

Every contorted, harsh line on his face warned her he was barely in control. “When exactly did my suspect assault you?”

“The night before the party.”

His eyes narrowed on her, examining, exploring her face as if he didn’t recognize her. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and he spoke in a low, intense voice, a voice she had never heard before. “Start from the beginning and tell me every detail.”

She adjusted the sheet, trying to cover herself. Mitzi pushed her cold nose under her hand.

“I was working late. He somehow got into my office building. When I came out, he grabbed me and held me near the steps.”

She decided to spare Davis the details of the preceding chase. He was upset enough. She tried to sound nonchalant as if the retelling didn’t affect her. But her mouth was dry and her heart thudded against her chest.

Davis stood with his legs braced apart, arms crossed on his chest.

“He told me to stop my snooping and said if I told you anything you would pay. I kicked him and then he dropped me down the steps.”

The silence was excruciating. She played with the spoon on the tray. Davis’ rage was palpable. She imagined his nostrils were flaring, like a stampeding bull.

“Why?”

“At first, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want him to harm you. I planned to tell you tonight when you came over for dinner.”

Davis paced. His restlessness permeated the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to, but I was afraid he would hurt you if I did.”

“You didn’t believe I could defend myself?”

His voice was caustic, but she heard the pain.

“He’s violent. Look what he did to my house.”

Davis exploded. “There wouldn’t have been a house fire if you’d told me.” He bent over her as if he was about to shake her. She leaned back into the pillows.

“If I’d known, I could’ve protected you.”

She wanted to escape. With no clothes, she wrapped herself in the duvet and stood. “I tried to do what I thought was best.” Her feelings had progressed from guilt to irritation. She was the one who had gotten knocked down the stairs and escaped a burning house. “Why can’t you understand?”

Davis gave her a cold, piercing gaze.

“I wanted to tell you but didn’t know how without putting you in danger.”

“I need time, Grayce. With no sleep in two days, I don’t have any perspective.” Davis walked toward the door. Was he leaving?

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve jeopardized your safety by becoming involved with you. I’m a fire investigator, and you’re a witness who has been threatened and almost killed.”

She squeezed the duvet between her fingers.

“If we weren’t together, you wouldn’t have tried to protect me. You would’ve called me about the threats.”

“Davis, please stop.”

“Obviously, you didn’t trust me.”

Grayce had no answer. She hadn’t expected him to blame himself for all that had happened. Davis was right. She hadn’t trusted him, but it wasn’t about the danger, it was about trusting him with the truth about herself.

“It’s complicated.”

“Not to me.” He continued to stand at the doorway. “Are there any more revelations you’d like to share about my investigation?” He hit his chest with his fist when he said the word
my
.

His brows were forced together and his lips hardened. He had himself in control, in icy cold control. “Grayce, is there more? Anything else you’ve decided I couldn’t handle?”

What did she have to lose?

“Maclean isn’t to be trusted.”

“What?”

“I got a bad feeling when I met him. I’ve tried to warn you.”

He strode back into the room.

“I’ve tried to explain to you that I sense things others don’t.”

Mitzi stood and came to her side.

“Right, you met the guy once. He’s been with the force twenty-three years, and I’m supposed to suspect him?”

As she had always known, he wanted facts not intuition. She lifted her chin. “He’s got gambling problems; he isn’t the good guy you think he is.”

Davis moved quickly toward her. “How in hell do you know that he gambles?”

His aggressive posture made her step back. “James and I followed him to a casino. He’s a regular and plays for big money.”

“You and James followed Maclean?” The room echoed with his shouting. Davis stood still, too still after his outburst.

It did sound preposterous. “We decided to follow him, to test whether my instincts were correct.” She was glad she hadn’t revealed the vision of the scar. Davis would’ve gone ballistic. “I’m not sure if he’s mixed up with the fire, but he isn’t what he seems.”

Davis picked up a pillow from the floor and threw it on the bed. “The whole time we’ve been together you’ve been playing investigator, following some crazy intuition. You wanted the excitement of being with an FI.”

She started to answer but something about the way Davis looked at her stopped her.

His face flushed and his voice was hard, rough. “What a joke. I thought you were different, we were different.”

His shoulders were hunched; his hands opened and closed in fists at his side, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me see if I can I get this straight. You went to Belltown to look for a dangerous assailant, you were assaulted by a suspect, and you followed my boss. You did all of this without saying a word to me.”

“I told you about Belltown, and I was planning on telling you about the assault.”

Davis didn’t appear to hear what she had said. He moved toward the door then turned and faced her. “What kind of woman needs to interfere in a criminal investigation?”

She didn’t have a quick answer, how to explain a lifetime of hiding her gifts.

“I can’t do this, right now. I’m afraid I’m going to say something I’ll regret.” He reached for the doorknob.

“It sounds bad the way you put it, but I want you to know—I did it because I care for you.” Her voice quivered. “It might not be the way you would’ve handled it, but it doesn’t mean it was wrong.”

He turned toward her, shaking his head. “You should’ve told me the truth. I can’t stand women playing games. Daphne lied for weeks about sleeping with my best friend.”

She swallowed any apologies. He was comparing her to Daphne. If he couldn’t see the difference, there was no hope for them. “Where are my clothes?”

“I’ll get them. Where are you going?”

“Does it matter?”

“I need to know. You’re a witness. Your safety is at risk.”

“Bollocks. It was only when I was trying to protect you I got hurt.” She could feel her face getting hot from the anger simmering under her skin.

“You got hurt because you thought you could solve the crime. How can someone so smart be so stupid?”

The heat blazed in her chest as if she were breathing the hot smoke from the fire, burning her insides.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean that the way it came out.” He moved toward her as if he was going to touch her.

She backed away. “Everyone says that after making a nasty remark.”

Davis’ jaw clenched and his words were tight, enunciated, “I want Mitzi to stay with you to protect you.”

She bent and petted the poodle. “Sorry, girl, but I don’t need you to stay with me.”

Wrapped in the duvet, she walked toward the door, not looking at Davis. “The man accomplished what he set out to do. I’m intimidated and done investigating.”

Pulling the cover tightly, she walked into the bathroom. She needed to get out of Davis’ condo.

Davis followed behind her. “I want Mitzi to stay with you.”

She turned back with her chin raised. She used the same carefully enunciated tone he had used. “Thank you, but it just complicates matters. Contact me if there’s anything about the fire.”

She slammed the bathroom door.

Chapter Forty-Three

Davis bench-pressed the 245-pound bar, feeling the slow burn in his arms and heaviness in his chest—guilt and remorse over his total loss of control with Grayce.

Niles’ suggestion this morning that he remove himself from the investigation “because his personal feelings were involved” didn’t help his frame of mind.

He and Mitzi had run miles this morning, but he remained agitated, unable to sleep or stay in his condo. So, he tried to blot out his feelings by working out.

Maybe Niles was right and in this situation, he couldn’t maintain the detached perspective required of an investigator.

He paused between reps, lying back on the bench, trying to regroup. His sweaty T-shirt stuck to his back and the bench. He couldn’t shake the image of Grayce getting into the cab with Napoleon in her arms, refusing to look at him.

He had been much too harsh. He had actually told her he was glad she was frightened. He still couldn’t believe he had behaved like such a jerk.

His arms strained with each rep, his neck tensing. He relaxed into the blaze in his arms, the familiar pain was comforting—this was something he could control.

Did Grayce have any idea how close she had come to being killed? He would never forget finding her on the stretcher, gasping into an oxygen mask.

He rested. Only one set of reps left.

He thrived on order. Nothing in his life had been orderly since meeting Grayce Walters. He had never been so regularly agitated and over reactive.

He added a new rule to his list of rules of investigation—
Never fall in love with a witness.

Grayce had proceeded blithely along, believing she was capable of stopping criminals. She had ventured into the heart of danger, looking for a violent misfit. The city was filled with drug dealers and addicts.

He lifted the bar over his head, allowing the slow simmer of his anger to burn away. At least James knew karate. The idea of Mr. Fashion confronting some thug might be entertaining if he didn’t know the threat involved.

“You bulking up to stop the next bastard who tries to stab you?” Chris Crosby, a climbing buddy and firefighter, stood over Davis, grinning. “Or you gonna let Mitzi take him down?”