The last thing Tabitha wanted to do was show a house today. But she’d promised to stay out of trying to find out who had killed her brother. So, she might as well do what paid her bills.

She took the left into the driveway of an upscale home off Pineapple Avenue not far from the Causeway, stopping at the gate. Punching in the keycode, she waited for the gate to open. She pulled in, checking her rearview mirror, making sure the potential buyer followed her onto the property.

After parking in front of the detached three-car garage, Tabitha snagged her briefcase and stepped from her sport SUV. Normally, she liked to get to a house a few minutes before a client, but Julia Hickey had been early, and Tabitha later than she had intended. Since the house had been unoccupied for a few weeks now, she wasn’t worried about the condition. It would be as she’d left it three days ago.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long?” Tabitha stretched out her hand, taking Julia’s in a firm shake. “There was an accident on the other side of the Causeway.”

“Only about five minutes.” Julia had long, blond hair that she had pulled back in a low ponytail. A gray streak lined the side of her head, but it blended nicely with her natural color. According to Julia, she and her husband were looking to downsize now that their children were grown and gone.

This particular listing, right on the Intracoastal, was three thousand square feet with a two-bedroom apartment over the detached garage. The owners were asking $749,000.

“I really like this area. Right now, we’re living in a gated community in Palm Bay. It’s beautiful, but the house is just too big, and I want to live on the water.”

“You’ll love the view. Why don’t we go take a look?” Tabitha led the way, pointing out all the features on the outside. Once inside, she let Julia wander about. Tabitha had found that it was best to let the client touch, feel, and see for themselves, while occasionally pointing out the selling points they might have missed or seemed the most interested in.

Tabitha set her briefcase down on the kitchen counter before heading upstairs.

It took thirty minutes for Tabitha to show Julia the entire house. Julia acted as if this were the best house she’d ever laid eyes on, but Tabitha considered herself a good read of clients, and this house just didn’t have the shiver factor for Julia.

“I really love the location and the view, but there are some things that need to be updated. How firm on price are the sellers?” Julia asked as she stepped from the back door.

Tabitha secured the lock, tucking the keys into her purse. “They have had some quotes on some of the needed updates, so I can tell you they are negotiable, but they wouldn’t entertain an offer less than seven hundred and fifteen thousand.”

“Good to know. I’ll need to talk to my husband. He’ll want to come and see it before we make an offer.”

“You have my number. I do have three other people looking at the property this week, and I suspect it won’t stay on the market too long.” Tabitha wasn’t lying, but it still sounded like a high-pressure sales pitch. “I’ll call you if I get any real interest or an offer.”

“I appreciate it. I’ve really got to run. Sorry.” Julia slipped behind the steering wheel. She waved as she punched the gas, taking off down the driveway a little faster than Tabitha approved of.

She took in a deep breath, dropping her purse in the passenger seat. Tapping the brake, she hit the start button. The engine tripped twice before turning over, which was odd, but the car was getting older and perhaps it needed a new starter. She reached in the back for her briefcase. “Shit,” she mumbled. Digging into her purse, she found the house keys and scurried off toward the back door. That briefcase not only had all her paperwork, but her brother’s laptop, something she didn’t want to leave behind.

She stuck the key in the lock and turned it.

Ka Boom!

Boom!

Pop!

Clutching her ears, she dropped to her knees, falling forward as heat spread across her skin. She glanced over her shoulder as black smoke billowed from her car. Pieces of metal dropped to the ground inches from her body.

Her thigh seared in pain, and she gasped when she looked down to see blood flowing from an open gash. Panic gripped her heart as she searched for her phone.

Only, she’d left it in her purse.

Which was in her burning car.

She pushed opened the door and stumbled across the tile floor. The ringing in her ears screamed like fingers on a chalkboard. She found the phone in the kitchen and hoped the owners hadn’t canceled the service.

Her heart pulsed when she heard the buzz of a connection. She tapped 9-1-1 and crumpled to the floor.

Garret sat in the back of the conference room with Zach on his right and Gunner on his left. Ace leaned against the windowsill while Hunter, the crew chief, went over the schedule for mandatory training along with shift changes while each team went through annual testing. The next month would be grueling with double shifts and fitness tests. But he’d been through it before.

He flipped his phone over, not only checking the time, but looking to see if Tabitha had called or texted. He’d turned it to silent mode because Ace couldn’t stand listening to anyone’s phone vibrate on the table, but he never bitched about someone checking it. Half the men in the room had families, and today was technically a day off, so if someone had to step out and deal with a problem at home, both Ace and Hunter would understand.

Nothing.

She had mentioned something about showing a house this morning and meeting with her boss, but then she said she’d be working at home all day.

The sound of boots hitting the tile in rapid succession echoed down the hallway.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Becca said as she skidded to a stop in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” Declan jumped up, racing to his wife’s side.

“It’s Garret’s friend, Tabitha. Her car exploded—”

“Her what did what?” Garret pushed his chair back with such force it tumbled over. His stomach flipped as bile smacked the back of his throat.

Becca stepped forward, putting her hand on his biceps. “She wasn’t in it, and yes, she’s going to be fine. She asked the first responders to call us. She has a gash in her leg that needs stitches, and they are taking her to Whitten Hospital.”

“Do you know what happened? How it happened? Cars don’t just explode.” His heart crashed into his ribcage. He ignored the tightness in his chest as he tried to take a deep breath. He pushed all his fears down into the pit of his gut and focused on what he could do.

And that was get to Tabitha.

“The call came in to the 9-1-1 center fifteen minutes ago, so I don’t know anything.”

Garret glanced toward Ace, who nodded. “We’ll fill you in on the rest. Report back to me as soon as you can.”

Becca and Declan stepped to the side.

Garret didn’t look back as he ran from the station. His fingers fumbled as he yanked his keys from his pocket, hitting the button to unlock his truck. He did his best to keep to the speed limit as he navigated the streets toward the hospital just on the other side of the Causeway, nearly twenty-five minutes from the base. Twice, he pounded on his horn, and three times he slammed his fist on the steering wheel out of frustration, and he still had another five minutes before he’d be inside the hospital.

“Hey, Siri. Call Becca Rivers.” It concerned him that no one had called him with any information.

The phone rang twice.

“Are you at the hospital?” Becca asked, not bothering to say hello.

“No. And Tabitha isn’t answering her phone.” He flipped his blinker on as he rolled to a stop three blocks shy of the emergency room parking lot. “Do you know who the first responders were? Who called you? I should have asked, but I was in too much of a hurry to—”

“Stop talking,” Becca said with a hint of a laugh. “Peters from Fire Station #5 called me directly. His EMTs took her to the hospital.”

“What about the cops?”

“I don’t know who the police officers were, but I can find out.”

“Do that. And if you don’t mind, ask Peters to do us a solid and keep us in the loop.”

“I’ve already asked him,” Becca said. “The fire investigator has been called to examine the car.”

“That’s protocol.” Cars generally didn’t explode randomly. “Were you told where she was? How close to the car had she been?”

“All I know is that she called 9-1-1 from inside the house she’d been showing. Peters said she was alert and not injured other than the cut on her leg,” Becca said with a reassuring tone. She was a couple years younger than Garret but had maturity and wisdom beyond her years. “He also said he’d call me if he found out anything at all.”

“All right.” Garret forced in a deep breath.

“And Garret. Don’t go getting all overprotective like the rest of your buddies. It really isn’t how to win over a woman. We pretty much hate overbearing, controlling men.”

Garret laughed. “Because we know who wears the pants in your family.”

The call went dead just as he parked. Shaking out his hands, he found his way through the waiting room and stopped at the window. “I’m looking for Tabitha Nelson.”

“Yes. She’s in exam room number three,” the nurse said, pointing down the hall.

“Thanks.” Garret rounded the corner with a tightness in his chest and a longing in his heart. He’d been tiptoeing around Tabitha since they’d first met. Their first few conversations he’d barely managed to keep from being tongue-tied.

And now that he’d slept with her?

He paused mid-step. Perspiration beaded across his hairline. Talk about being out of his league.

“Garret?” The sound of her sweet voice delighted his ears.

He pulled back the curtain. She lay on a hospital bed that had her torso tilted upright. A pillow had been placed under her knee, and a large bandage was wrapped around her thigh.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “What the hell happened?” Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his thumb under a small cut on her cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m just glad I wasn’t in the car when it blew up.”

He leaned in and kissed her rosy lips. “Me too.”

“Do you know anything? The police haven’t been back to talk to me since the doctor stitched up my leg.”

He swallowed, glancing down at her thigh. Blood soaked through the gauze. “All I know is that a fire investigator has been called in.”

“Probably the same guy that ruled my brother’s house fire accidental.” She dropped her head back and sighed.

“It could be a different investigator, but Becca, Declan’s wife, is going to get all that information for us.” Gently, he squeezed her knee, leaving out that he’d rather it be Wesley, the same man who did the investigation of her brother’s house fire. “Can you tell me what you remember?”

She threw her forearm over her eyes. “I said goodbye to my client. Got in my car and started it when I realized I had left my briefcase in the house. I got the keys, leaving my car running, and by the time I got to the back door, my car had exploded.”

For some reason, he needed to see Tabitha’s eyes. He lifted her arm and tilted her chin. “Had you met this client before?”

“No. She called me yesterday. Said she’d passed by the house and got my number from the listing.”

“I assume you gave the police her contact information?”

Tabitha nodded. “You’re a fireman. What would cause a car to blow up while it was just sitting in a driveway?”

“Nothing good.” He knew exactly where her mind had gone, and he didn’t see the point in trying to sugarcoat things, or worse, insult her by brushing his own fears under the table.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said from the hallway. “How are you doing, Ms. Nelson?”

“Not great. Can you tell me anything more about what happened to my car, Officer?”

“You were first on the scene?” Garret asked as he stood, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Yes, I was. It’s good to see you again,” Rusty said.

“You two know each other?”

“Yes. I’m an old friend of Ace’s, Garret’s boss. Actually, we met when he pulled Ace’s wife from a burning car, but that’s a different story.”

“What can you tell us?” Garret asked.

“Nothing yet about why the car exploded, but we did find out that Tabitha’s client doesn’t exist. We can’t find anyone in the state of Florida with the name Julia Hickey.”