Chapter Nine
Jess went to bed that night in her tiny newly-converted garage apartment feeling like the case was going nowhere. As a PI, she usually knew the who, what, and where of any case within a very short time. After all, Ann Arbor was not a hotbed of serious crimes. If there was mystery involved, like a theft, there was often only a small set of suspects to choose from. Or the criminals were too dumb to not get caught. That was why her success rate was high. With this case, she honestly had no idea who’d want her dead.
It was somewhere around two a.m. when she awoke to an unusual sound, a crackle. Since the apartment was a converted two-car garage behind the main house and away from the road, noise was at a minimum. A pop followed, and the smell of smoke, further confusing her sleepy brain.
By the time she got to the bedroom door, the sounds were coming fast and recognition caused panic. She felt the door handle, and slowly eased the panel open.
Fire!
Smoke poured in and she slammed the door closed. Racing for the bed, she pulled her duffel out from under the frame. Inside were her gun and her PI kit. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand. Trying to remain calm, she went to the window, pushed it up and open, and tossed her things out onto the cement sidewalk that circled the garage. She then followed, hanging onto the window frame to steady herself, hoping the smoke inhalation wouldn’t cause any lasting damage.
Once outside, she called 9-1-1. Then she called Wheeler.
“Come over, now!” Calm had lost the battle. She shouted out her address and hung up.
Her landlord was out of the country and Jess sent a text while watching smoke wind its way out through once invisible cracks in the roof. Her heart sank. Although the apartment had nothing of real value inside, what she did have, she wanted to keep.
Sirens screamed in the distance. Soon, the yard was full of firemen, and neighbors from the surrounding houses gathered along the fence line. She stood in the shadow of the big house as the firefighters did their best to save the garage. But she knew it was gone.
By the time Wheeler found her there a few minutes later, she didn’t realize she was crying until he zipped her into his hoodie and pulled her into his arms.
“The smoke detector didn’t go off. Why didn’t it go off?”
He held her until the flames were tamped down. The place was so small that it didn’t take long for the blaze to finish the structure and the firemen to put it out.
The fire marshal had questions and Jess numbly answered them, all while Wheeler silently held her hand. Then he bundled her and her duffel in his SUV and drove her to his home.
“You’ll stay with me for now.”
She wanted to argue but couldn’t find the energy. He tucked her into a dark bedroom and pulled a comforter over her as she shivered. She was so tired. So cold. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was his hand holding hers.
* * *
Sam stood next to the bed and made sure she was sleeping before he headed out to his garage and pounded the punching bag that hung from the rafters until his arms shook with fatigue.
The fire had been no accident. He’d seen the half melted pair of gas cans sitting near the corner of the apartment. It was unlikely they’d be stored outside in the elements like that.
Jess and her violet eyes could have died.
Never in his life did he want to kill someone as he did now. Even his old partner who almost ruined his life didn’t rise to the level of anger that filled him with such searing heat.
He pounded the bag until the rage fled, then went back into the house, wiping sweat off his face with the hem of his T-shirt. Jess was sleeping, exhausted from her ordeal. He went to the kitchen for a beer and a chair and took both back to his bedroom. He sat next to the bed, popped the cap, and waited for her nightmares to begin.
* * *
Jess startled awake sometime later to a hall light illuminating the room where Wheeler had deposited her. A clock beside the bed said five a.m. She’d only slept for a little over an hour, but it seemed like much longer. The smell of smoke clung to her hair and PJ’s and she wondered if it would ever wash out.
Turning the other way, she found Wheeler dozing in a chair by the bed with his chin resting on his shoulder. A beer can sat perched on his lap and his soft breathing offered an odd sort of comfort.
Jess smiled. The man was protective.
Slowly, so as not to not wake him, she headed for what she assumed was the door of a master bathroom and flicked on the light. Her hair stood up in spikes around her head, and bags shadowed her eyes. She splashed her face and made use of a hand towel. The bathroom was as neat as his SUV.
“You okay?”
Startled, she discovered him standing in the open door wearing a U of M T-shirt and a pair of ratty blue sweats. They hung low on his hips as the sweats tried to retain their position with the string tie having come undone. One cough and they’d be around his knees.
One could hope.
Jess licked her dry lips. “Yes, thank you.”
She padded back to the bed, conscious of the fact that she was wearing only short gray PJ shorts with white flowers on them, a matching gray top, and no bra. Thankfully she didn’t have a habit of sleeping nude. The top certainly didn’t hide much as it was.
The intimacy of being in his bed didn’t go unnoticed but the awkwardness diminished after she wrapped the comforter around her in a protective layer. He pulled the chair closer and sat down.
“You should try and get some sleep,” he said, ruffling his hair with one hand. Damn, he looked good.
“I can’t get the smoke detector out of my mind. My landlord replaced both of them two months ago. The one in the kitchen should have gone off right away.” She met his eyes. “This wasn’t an accident, was it?”
“I don’t think so.”
For the second time, and much to her embarrassment, tears sprang into her eyes. Jess dabbed at them with the edge of the comforter. “So much for being a tough girl.”
He stood and sat next to her. She leaned into him as he put an arm around her. “If someone tried to cook me, I’d probably cry, too.”
The image didn’t fit.
“Liar.” Nuzzling her face against his shoulder and smelling his spicy male scent, the moment felt a bit surreal. They weren’t fans of each other, yet fate—and a couple of assassination attempts—had brought them together. He was probably as confused about how she ended up in his bed as she was. And he hadn’t had to buy her dinner or spring for a movie to get her there.
“I think we’re going to have sex,” she said with a deep sigh. It was inevitable, she figured. She might as well put it out there so he wouldn’t get confused if she ever whipped off her panties in front of him.
Surprise lit his face at her blunt announcement, then his expression slipped into acceptance. “Probably. But not this morning. You need sleep. I’ll call Irving and tell him you’ll be late.” He kissed her brow and eased her back on the bed.
She touched the spot as he moved away.
Thoughts of the alpha male naked and making passionate love to her gave her something positive to think about other than fires and snipers and the mystery surrounding the whole situation.
As he walked out the bedroom door, she admired his butt with a smile, then drifted back to sleep.