From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two (23 page)

Now only Archer remained and he only had eyes for Sadie, so the little peek of alabaster skin was for Finn alone.

Without lifting his eyes from his notepad Archer asked. “You don’t happen to still have those other flowers and the note, do you?”

Joselyn shook her head. “No. I guess I left them in the hospital room last week when I was released.”

“What’d the note say?”

She wrapped her slim arms around herself as if retreating into her shell. “It said ‘Sorry for your loss.’” The tension on the fabric from her hands fisting at her sides pulled at the hem of her shirt even more until Finn could see her tiny belly button.

He swallowed back a groan, and probably some drool, and forced his eyes away, trying to stay focused on the case and the very real threat of danger that should be front and center in his mind. But even with his best intentions, and his eyes occupied elsewhere, he couldn’t help but think about how beautiful and perfect she was to him—almost too intimidating to look at. Even now, with her hair still matted from sleeping against his chest and not an ounce of makeup, she was flawless.

And that made each of his own flaws all the more repulsive in his eyes.

What did she see when she looked at him? Did she see the angry burned skin at the back of his neck from the Monroe fire? Or did she see the scarring that went far deeper?

Did she see an honorable man fighting to protect her or an arrogant punk she’d once rejected toying with her mind?

Finn supposed he’d been a bit of each of those things. But he desperately hoped to prove he was bigger than the man who’d manipulated her into tears last night. That he wasn’t going to keep holding a grudge, keeping one foot in the past to remind her what he’d thought of her all those years ago and all the years since.

He knew he needed to let it go. Needed to surrender all that rejection and hurt. And not only about Joselyn and how she’d once ripped his heart to shreds. But about all of it. Everything else that robbed him of becoming the man he needed to become to be worthy of her.

And worthy of grace for all his senseless mistakes.

Crossing the space between them, Finn stopped directly in front of Joselyn. Her eyes were weighted with worry, and she’d once again trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. Her arms wrapping ever tighter around her slender frame seeking comfort. He smiled down at her lovely face to put her at ease. She could use a distraction and he could think of a perfect way to do exactly that.

Though sadly, not with Archer and Sadie still talking flowers and strategy in the room.

He stood close enough to breath in the sweet and minty elixir that seemed to diffuse from her skin, filling his senses with something so much more tempting than revenge. After he glanced over his shoulder to check their audience, he touched his hands to her hips, barely breathing when his fingers treasured the forbidden boundary of the petal-soft skin before he gently righted the rising hemline.

Her arms loosened around her but stayed in place, and for several long moments Finn’s mouth wouldn’t cooperate. He wanted to kiss her. Hold her. Reassure her it would all be okay. That he’d keep her safe no matter what.

Instead, he pried his hands away from their newfound addiction and tried to smile. Might have even tried to wink, to lighten the mood the way he did best.

“I told you I don’t like to share.” Except, his voice shook when the truth in his sarcasm threatened to give him away completely. It was far too soon to lay all his cards on the table, but he was tempted to do just that.

“That’s a little possessive for a guy who’s only pretending.” He saw the challenge in her eyes. Too fierce for simple curiosity.

Leaning in until his lips brushed her ear, he whispered, “Who said I was pretending?”

“So … there’s nothing in this for you?” she whispered too and then leaned away to read the truth from his face.

The words were out before he thought better of them, so he wagged his eyebrows and covered with a smile. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”

Chapter 29

Joselyn Whyte

“So, you’re sure?”

Despite the seriousness of the task, Joselyn couldn’t help but snort a laugh. “Archer, are you kidding? I can’t see a thing from this. That could be anybody.”

After a full twenty-four hours of zero progress on the flowers, the eighteenth endless surveillance video proved her breaking point.

The grainy man on the screen—who may or may not be a killer—looked like any plain old average Joe. Like the last thirty or so guys on tape, from more than a dozen stores, that had bought lilies in that past two weeks. And that was only scratching the surface of the videos yet to be sorted through—or even come in.

Not to mention all the places that didn’t have surveillance. Or all the men that had placed orders online or by phone, or who didn’t walk out with a nice telling white bouquet, or whose faces had managed to elude the video feed. Like the man who had dropped the first arrangement at the information desk at the hospital, who’d worn a flu mask and had found a hole in the hospital’s security coverage.

The flowers could have been shipped in from anywhere. All they knew at present was that this guy in the video from Schnuck’s grocery store bought white lilies similar to the arrangements Joselyn had received around the same time—designating him as a new suspect.

“Facial recognition picked up this one.” Archer angled his pen at the screen. “Works for Parkway School District so we had him on file.”

Thus the poor guy was being picked up by Sal and brought in for questioning, while she sat scrutinizing the fuzzy images of strangers who might end up on the losing end of the lotto today. Dozens had already been questioned and dismissed. It seemed like a true needle-in-a-haystack impossibility, but Joselyn stuck it out—wanting to show her appreciation for the FBI’s diligence.

“I’ll stick around and see if I recognize him in person. But this all seems kinda crazy. I mean, we looked through all those order forms, but any one of those could be a fake name, right?”

Before Archer could answer, her worries started snowballing. “Didn’t most of those places say they don’t even make customers fill out forms with personal information? And so what if I don’t recognize him? It’s quite possible I’ve never seen my attacker before. And what makes us think this guy will slip up after creating a bafflingly brilliant, evidence-free house fire, car bomb, and whatever genius plan he has to roast me alive next? Like he’s gonna waltz right into the florist, look directly at the camera, and hand over his credit card?”

She shook her head, her heart anchoring to hopelessness and sinking faster and faster into a dark, drowning abyss. “Thank you for everything you’re doing, but I feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time.”
Dang it, don’t you dare cry.
She sniffled back a few tears and thought seriously about surrendering to her fate.

This guy was too smart. Too fixated. And despite his fiery signature, too unpredictable.

The words from the bouquet from “Finn” rushed back to her. She shivered. What if something happened to him? Or Sadie, Archer, or Sal?

Even the thought made her consider going rogue and sacrificing herself on the burning alter. While they chased down one dead end after another they became puppets in his little game. Would this next time end it all?

Every thought turned morbid and paranoid. She hated constantly looking over her shoulder, but she also knew that Archer wouldn’t give up on this even if she begged him to. Which, she didn’t think she possessed the nerve to do.

“The safe house is still on the table.”

“No, Archer. He’s motivated. And I can’t hide forever. We’ll lose any chance we have at tracking him down if I fall off the grid.”

They’d weighed the pros and cons already. Numerous times.

His hard hand came to rest on her arm, and she looked up into his eyes—eyes with deadly resolve. “We’re gonna nail this guy, Joss. I know it seems like a long shot, but you gotta trust. And let me do my job.”

Of course, he was right. The panic was very persuasive, but if she gave in to fear it would suck away what could possibly be the last days or weeks of her life. “You’re right. And I trust you.”

“Not me, Joss. I’m darn good at my job, but I’m not God.” Somehow this solid brute of a man seemed to fortify even more with his next words. “Most things are bigger than you and me. But you’re in good hands. Of that, I have no doubt.”

Joselyn drew in a deep breath, willing Archer’s words to absorb into her heart.

He had no doubts.

Well, that made one of them.

“Hi, Yia-Yia. How’re you feeling today?” In her attempts to avoid any discussion of the boarded entry of McKnight Grove and the nightmarish highlight reel of the car bombing incident looping in her mind, Joselyn’s voice emerged a bit too energized, catching Yia-Yia with a startle.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, just stopping in for a little visit.” Softening her voice, she searched her grandmother’s vacant eyes for any sign of recognition.

“Well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind a little distraction from this ridiculous knitting nonsense.” Abandoning the knitting needles to her lap, she rolled her crystal-blue eyes. “They’re trying to bore me to death. That or maybe I’d turn one of those big needles on myself. Gave it a thought. Much rather play some hold ’em. Difficult game to play by oneself.” She lifted a manicured brow. “You know how to play poker, young lady?”

With a sinking heart, Joselyn lowered herself to the chair beside the woman who’d raised her, who taught her everything she knew—including how to play Texas hold ’em.

Today was not a day Joselyn could handle duking out the truth, so playing along would have to do. Striving to keep her voice unwavering in her disappointment, she said, “Yes, ma’am. My grandmother taught me. Great game. Shall I fetch some cards?”

Yia-Yia’s face lit up; the lines around her eyes and mouth crinkling with delight. Scooping up the knitting needles, she dropped them into a small trash can and dusted off her hands. “Ah, yes, my dear.” Batting her hand at the discarded scarf, she flashed Joselyn a sassy smirk and winked, “Sweet Moses, that was boring! You saved me. I will be forever indebted.” Placing her hand on her heart, she dipped her head in an amusing bow.

Now, there was the Yia-Yia Joselyn remembered. And though she didn’t seem to recognize her own flesh and blood, sharing some quality time with someone she loved was enough for today.

Jogging out to the supply room, Joselyn scrounged up a sleeve of poker chips and a deck of playing cards and went back to shuffle and deal to the card shark herself.

Yia-Yia had always loved a good poker game. Games of all kinds, really. Her friends would come over, and Joselyn would sit enrapt by all the strategies and rules of Yia-Yia’s weekly bridge, hold ’em, or bunko tournaments with a bunch of crazy old gamblers.

“So, what’s your name, sugar?” Yia-Yia left her cards on the table and lifted the edges—her face trained and perfectly aloof. Years of observing her grandmother’s poker face had helped Joselyn develop and fine tune her own defense mechanism—something that was slipping with the intoxicating charms and devilish good looks of one high school nemesis.

“Joselyn.” Her throat tightened.

“Oh, my, what a beautiful name. Then again, it would have to be to suit such a lovely girl.” Tossing in two chips, Yia-Yia waited for Joselyn to kick in and then motioned for the flop. “So tell me about your fella?”

Joselyn felt her eyes spring wide. “Pardon me?”

With a smirk, Yia-Yia upped the ante. “I’m an old bitty, so I obviously wasn’t born yesterday. Plus, I can see from the storm behind your eyes that something’s on your mind. A matter of the heart, perhaps?”

The clarity of her speech alone was miraculous. Joselyn was tempted to page Rosie to get a read on this but feared she’d lose the moment if she broke this connection. She should also change the subject, but she hesitated long enough to think it over. There was so much weighing on her heart about Finn, about their past. Things she had never told Yia-Yia because it would hurt her too much. But while the woman in front of her was her grandmother, she was also a stranger.

On the turn—the fourth card dealt face up—Yia-Yia threw in a few more chips as well as some gentle prodding. “I’m a great listener. And I tend to be forgetful, so your secrets are safe with me.”

Releasing a heavy-laden breath—easing the burden of what she was about to say— Joselyn took a moment to pray that she’d made the right decision and then started at the beginning.

Meeting Finn in the hallway, falling for him a little more each day—the abbreviated version of the events leading up to the prom. “And that’s when his best friend, Cody, approached me about prom. After I turned him down—and he guessed the reason why—he said he could help Finn realize that I was interested so he would ask me. Said Finn was shy and needed some coaxing.”

And finally Joselyn turned over the river. Round one went to Yia-Yia with two pair. No surprise there.

With a practiced sweep of her hand, Yia-Yia collected her winnings while Joselyn got to shuffling—like old times. Joselyn smiled at the parade of memories. Thankful that she had some good ones she could call upon for a rainy day.

“Go on, dear.”

Oh, boy.
Here goes.
“But then prom came, and Finn had already asked someone else. Cody showed up at my door that night and offered to take me. And since I already had the dress, I went, barely arriving before the last song of the night.”

While she spoke about the dance, Joselyn continued shuffling and dealing, glad that something was occupying her hands that started to tremble as the stress of the tumbling words made every part of her ache.

“… since we’d only made the end of the actual dance, Cody insisted that I accompany him to the after-party at his parents’ house.” Though the Largeman family wasn’t nearly as wealthy as Joselyn’s father, their house was expansive. That had been part of the problem. Too secluded. Sound proof.

Suddenly, what Joselyn feared most took hold of her. She spoke through the daze as she drifted off on the memory.

Why did she agree to this?

Wandering around Cody’s parents’ mansion, amidst a sea of inebriated faces and deafening music, Joselyn wished she could close her eyes and be back at home. Only home at Yia-Yia’s, not at her father’s estate. And since her father wasn’t answering his phone, and she couldn’t seem to find Cody anywhere, she didn’t have a ride home. And calling a cab would be an open invitation for the driver to fabricate some misdeed and make a pretty penny with the tabloids. Happened before which was how she knew the ensuing fallout with her father would be particularly unpalatable. So she did the only thing she could think to do at her helpless juncture. Closed her eyes and wished.

Only a moment passed until someone crushed her. Literally. Her body crumpling when a tremendous weight squashed her onto the lavish marble floor. Darkness bled through her eyes as the drunken oaf peeled himself off of her and shouted, “Stage dive! That was awesome! Who’s next?”

Spots of color and light slowly crept back into her vision. Her head was now throbbing from something other than the noise. She winced again as the room stayed on the merry-go-round for another long moment of nauseous agony.

“You okay?”

Her heart turned over. She knew that voice. Peeking open one eye, she saw a broad hand extended, and beyond it, a scowling Finn.

As he came into focus, she noticed his hair was mussed beyond its usual beachy waves, his tie gone, and his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Reaching out for help, his warm hand swallowed all the cold in her body with a single touch as he hefted her off the ground.

How could he have asked that Renee Ross girl? She was a viper. Mean and predatory, and unapologetically so. Was that Finn’s type? Did Joselyn even know him at all?

The room did another tumultuous turn, and she felt her body sway before another bumper car drunk collided with her backside and shoved her into Finn’s arms. Clinging to him kept her from reuniting with the cold, hard floor. He steadied her, looking down with those deep sea eyes that held her captive day and night.

His expression softened for a flicker of a moment, and then the glint in his eyes returned them to steel. “Come on. Let’s get you outta this mess.” He led her through several rooms packed with people until he found a less populous area.

Everything was blurry, and she struggled to concentrate on anything but Finn’s hand in hers. “Finn?”

“What?” His tone was sharper than she’d ever heard it. He tugged his hand away.

“I want to go home. And I haven’t seen Cody in an hour. He was acting really weird after we got here.” Feeling like she needed to close her eyes again to concentrate on her words, she let them fall shut, relieved to be able to hide from Finn’s surly look of disdain. What was his problem anyway? “Would you please take me home?”