Stay with Ari? What was Heath thinking?

I still had no answer when I left the restaurant and headed out to deal with the less pleasant part of my day.

The image of Ari’s wide gray eyes and sleek curtain of red hair stayed firmly fixed in my mind as I pointed my Jeep in the direction of my parents’ house, hoping I could get a better look at the scene in the daylight.

When I arrived, I found the street had been cleared of debris, but crime scene tape still wrapped around the lot that used to hold my childhood home. Three black-and-whites were parked along the curb, and members of the crime-scene unit were crawling all over the rubble. I ducked under the tape, but a uniformed officer I didn’t recognize stopped me before I made it six feet.

“Sorry, sir. You can’t be here.”

“This is my parents’ house. I’m not going anywhere.”

Knowledge flashed across his face. I might not have known who he was, but he sure as hell knew me.

“Mr. Hennessy, you need to step back.”

Mr. Hennessy. It sounded so foreign even now. I’d been Detective Hennessy for enough years that it was strange to be addressed as anything else.

Arguing with him wouldn’t gain me any ground. I didn’t have a badge, and the law wasn’t on my side, so I tried a different tack.

“How long before you clear the scene? I need to start figuring out cleanup and disposal.” I had no idea if my parents’ insurance would cover it or if I’d be looking at massive debts to split with my brothers, but it needed to be done.

“I couldn’t say, sir. The department will let you know as soon as you’re able to have access. In the meantime, I would suggest that you leave this to the professionals.”

The last part was a dig, and it burned just the way he’d intended.

“Thanks for nothing.” I turned away from the uniformed punk, wondering if I’d ever been that big of a prick. Probably.

Instead of giving him the satisfaction of watching me get in my car and drive away, I headed to the house across the street. I might not have a badge anymore, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t canvass the neighborhood for information. Eyewitness statements might be notoriously unreliable, but skipping out on taking them wasn’t an option. Occasionally there was a single nugget of information that could change the trajectory of an entire investigation.

“Oh my goodness, Rhett Hennessy, is that really you?” Mrs. Thurman greeted me at the door with a warm smile. “It’s been an age since I’ve seen you around. Do you have any idea when all those police officers are going to let Minnie back into her house?”

Minnie Myers had lived on the other side of my folks for as long as I could remember.

“I’m not sure, Mrs. Thurman. They wouldn’t give me any information either.”

“I swear, there aren’t any good cops left anymore . . .” She trailed off, probably because she assumed it was a sore subject with me. She was right.

I also noticed she didn’t ask about the Sampsons, and I knew why. About ten years ago, Mr. Sampson decided to have a neighborhood party and didn’t invite Mrs. Thurman. The grudge had lasted an entire decade with no signs of fading. Her dedication to it made me smile to myself. It was good to know some things in the old neighborhood hadn’t changed.

“They’ve been going through that pile of brick piece by piece. I’ve been watching them for days, and I can’t see that they’ve found a single useful thing. Sure, they’ve put stuff in baggies like it meant something, but it looks like a whole lot of nothing. No one lit up and jumped around like they’d found the answer they’re looking for.”

And that was why I started with Mrs. Thurman. She was the stereotypical nosy neighbor with nothing but time on her hands to people-watch from her window. It drove my mom nuts, but I hoped it would turn out to be my saving grace.

“Have the police been by to talk to you?”

She harrumphed. “They sent a wet-behind-the-ears kid in a uniform who wasn’t even old enough to be my grandson. He didn’t even ask me about my day before he started in on the questions. Beyond rude.”

“So you didn’t have anything to tell him?”

She smiled, looking awfully proud of herself. “I had plenty I could’ve told him, but I decided I’d wait until they sent someone who would treat me with a little respect.”

And that’s when things got interesting.

Apparently, for months now my dad had been heading out within minutes of my mom leaving the house every day. Mrs. Thurman didn’t want to speculate on what he was doing, but she said he was constantly looking around like he suspected he was being watched. When she’d tried to confront him about it, he’d blown her off, so she’d decided to keep it to herself but hadn’t stopped watching. My folks had also had several unusual repair people, or so she assumed, because an unmarked white van had been parked on the street in front of the house a few times over the last couple of weeks.

I took down notes in my phone, wishing I could ask my dad what the hell had been going on. If I knew my father, which I’d been questioning for a while, he wouldn’t have involved my mother in anything, so asking her would be a dead end.

After I ate the stale cookies Mrs. Thurman offered and drank her lukewarm coffee, I left with more questions than answers.

What the hell were you doing, Dad?

I spent the rest of the afternoon interviewing other neighbors, none of whom were as helpful or as observant as Mrs. Thurman. However, all of them were nosy and not afraid to pry into my life. I finally left the neighborhood that held all my childhood memories around six o’clock and returned to my hotel to order a crappy room-service dinner.

If I’d jumped on that offer Heath had made, I could be at Ari’s right now. Why the hell hadn’t I?

After an hour of staring at the blank notepad that was supposed to contain all my brilliant theories about what had happened with my dad, I’d had enough. I needed to get out of this room before I lost my damned mind.

Heath must have had a sixth sense, because my phone lit up with his name on the screen. After a year of not answering calls, it was strange not to ignore them.

“What’s going on, Heath?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I got into it with Ari tonight. She stormed out of here pissed off, and if I go track her down, she’s going to be even more pissed.”

As soon as he said her name, all my senses kicked into overdrive. “What happened?”

“I had a cop buddy of mine out in Cali keeping an eye on her boyfriend, and, well . . . he sent me pictures this morning that were damning. I showed her today after we got Dad home from lunch, and I’m a little worried that she’s gonna do something stupid.”

The fucking boyfriend. He had to go. Now more than ever, because Ari wasn’t his anymore. Not if I had a damned thing to say about it.

But Heath didn’t know I’d staked a claim on his sister, and that discussion wasn’t happening over the phone. That would make me a spineless dick.

“What kind of pictures?” It was more of a demand than a question.

“The kind where he’s wrapped around another woman, buck-ass naked.”

Dammit . . . the kind of pictures I’d delivered to more than one spouse after catching someone cheating. The aftermath was never pretty. I’d seen it all—people flying into a rage, curling up into a ball and crying, or staring out the window like their soul had been sucked out of them. I never left them alone without asking them if there was someone I could call.

“And you just let her go?”

“It’s not like I had a choice. She doesn’t listen to me. Not sure she ever did before. I would go track her down, but Dad’s riled up and I can’t leave him here alone. I need you, man.”

Did Heath know something had happened between us? What was his angle here? Either way, there was no question about whether I’d go after her.

“Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know. She won’t answer my calls, and I don’t like the idea of her out hitting some bar by herself.”

“You really think she’d go out?” The Ari I knew wasn’t a barfly, although she’d held her own last night.

“I know so. I got in touch with her driver, and he told me he dropped her at Molly’s an hour ago and she sent him away. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving, so he’s parked as close as he can get. But unless she asks for him to come inside and babysit her, his hands are tied. He can’t go against her orders unless there’s an immediate threat.”

Shit. Molly’s? I’d seen the way those guys had stared at her last night, and on a Friday, it had to be even more packed.

“I’ll be there in fifteen. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”

“I know you will. There’s no one else I’d trust with my baby sister. Thanks.”

When Heath hung up, his words echoed in my head.

“There’s no one else I’d trust with my baby sister.”

Tomorrow, I’d find out if he really meant that, because our come-to-Jesus talk was due.

I didn’t waste any time before heading out to jump in my Jeep and point it in the direction of Molly’s.

---

The French Quarter was so packed with cars and people that traffic moved only inches at a time. I cut down a dark street that I knew would be mostly overlooked and found a parking spot I’d used many times before. Even after being gone a year, this city was still my home, and I knew the tricks.

When I climbed out of the car, a couple of homeless punks paused in trying to jimmy a gate open and ran in the other direction. Before, I would have chased them down, and it was hard to suppress the urge. It wasn’t my job anymore, and I had more pressing business tonight.

I strode down the uneven concrete sidewalk and swung into the open doorway of Molly’s. My first thought when I walked inside was pure instinct. I’m going to paddle her ass when I get her out of here. I couldn’t miss Ari, and neither could anyone else in the bar.

A black sweater hung at her elbows, revealing a tiny white tank top that barely covered her bra or the tits pushing up over the top of its cups. With the sweater on, she might have looked like a sexy librarian waiting to be unwrapped, and with it off, she could stop traffic. The red-and-white plaid skirt that completed her outfit was no doubt giving every man in the bar schoolgirl fantasies.

What the hell was she thinking? Her red hair spilled down her shoulders, and every eye in the bar followed as she bent over the pool table to take a shot.

Was that . . . Oh, hell no. Please tell me I could not see the bottom curve of her ass when she leaned too far forward.

Three other men had their heads tilted to the side in a way that would have been comical if she weren’t my woman. Whether she knew she was mine wasn’t the important point in my mind. It was inevitable.

I stalked across the room and slipped the pool cue from her hand before she could twitch her ass again or take the shot.

“What the hell—” Ari straightened and spun at the same time.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Her eyes, already bright from liquor, narrowed on me. “Not that it’s any of your business, but whatever the hell I want because I’m a single woman.”

When she flipped her hair over her shoulder for an extra punch of attitude, my dick stood up and took notice. So she’s officially single now. Good to know.

“We already covered this. You’re my business. Always have been.”

“Hey, the lady and I are playing a game here.”

I twisted my head toward the guy leaning on a pool cue at the other side of the table. He looked pissed at the interruption. Too damn bad.

“Game’s over.”

“Says who?” Ari narrowed her eyes on me. “Me and Jack were just getting to know each other.”

“It’s John—”

“Thanks, John. I got this.” I swung my gaze from her pissed-off pool partner to her and said, “We’re going home,” loud enough so everyone in the bar heard me.

“No, we are not,” Ari snapped back, and my gaze stuck on the bright red slicking her lips.

Jesus, that would look amazing around my cock. As soon as the thought entered my head, I shut it down. That wasn’t why I was here.

“Look, Heath told me about the boyfriend shit. Glad you’re done with him, but trust me, this isn’t the way to handle it.”

She dropped a hand to her hip. “Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not my father and you’re not my brother. You’ve only kissed me once, so that means you can go ahead and keep your opinion to yourself.”

I laid the pool cue on the table and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go, Red.”

She tugged out of my grip and spun around to face John, who’d come around the table. “I’m not leaving without finishing my game.”

I wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her back against me. “You want a game, Ari? Then you’ll be playing with me. Not some damned stranger.”

She let out a grunt of anger and struggled against my hold.

“Hey—” John interrupted, but my fierce glare shut him up.

Ari whipped back around, no doubt to rip me a new one, and I silenced her the best way I knew how.

I kissed her.