Chapter 17
Clem
“It makes no sense.”
It was barely ten when I got here to find a sheriff’s deputy, along with a few security guys, milling about outside the firehouse.
Nothing visible was amiss, at least not at first glance and not on the outside, other than that the rear door stood open.
That was a bit of a relief, the fire that decimated the original location of my auto repair shop still fresh in my mind.
Roy Battaglia, who showed up at the same time I did, pulled me aside and warned me to stay out of the way.
Apparently, two deputies were inside doing a search of the building in case the perpetrator was still inside.
They just came out to tell us no one was found on the premises and, from what they could see, there didn’t appear to be anything disturbed, except for the door, which had been forced open.
“Whatever reason they had might not have been obvious to us,” Deputy KC Kingma returns. He was one of the deputies who searched the building. “Althoff is on his way, so you’ll be able to do a walk-through with him.”
I’m glad I insisted Tessa stay home with her boys.
She’d been ready to come with me when I told her something was going on at the firehouse.
She took a little convincing, but ultimately stayed behind, insisting I call her the minute I know what’s going on.
Of course, I’m not sure of anything yet at this point, but I send her a quick text anyway.
Don’t know much yet.
They’re making me wait for Althoff before letting me inside.
Her response is immediate, confirming she was waiting to hear.
Yeah, that’s standard OP. Just hang tight.
I’m guessing OP stands for operating procedure.
Did they get anything on the feed?
I hadn’t thought to ask, so immediately turn to Roy.
“Omar mentioned seeing movement on that one.” I point at the small, almost invisible camera mounted just underneath the ledge of the upstairs window. Did we get anything useful?”
Battaglia shrugs. “Possibly, but I’ll leave that for Althoff to discuss with you.”
Right then, another sheriff’s cruiser pulls into the back lot from the alley.
Maybe. I hope to find out soon, I think Althoff just got here.
Okay, let me know.
I shoot her back a thumbs-up icon, and slip my phone back in my pocket as I watch the detective approach.
“Ready to go in and have a look?”
I nod. “Yep.”
The walk-through is anti-climactic. I don’t see anything missing or even displaced and mention that to Althoff.
“No tools missing? Parts?” he prompts.
I take another glance around the garage, but nothing jumps out.
“Not that I can see. I mean, nothing of importance anyway.”
We already went through the apartment upstairs, and that looked exactly as I left it. Nothing was missing from my office either. Not that they’d have much time to go through anything considering the first deputies and Battaglia’s crew were here in minutes.
I don’t understand what anyone had hoped to gain.
“It makes no sense,” I point out. “Why go to the trouble of breaking in when you don’t plan to take anything?”
Rick Althoff stands in the middle of the shop and slowly turns a full circle.
“Unless they intended to leave something,” he thinks out loud, stopping suddenly and narrowing his eyes.
I turn to where he’s looking, Remi’s Chevy pickup. We move at the same time, but Rick gets there first.
“Don’t touch anything,” he orders, and makes me stand back while he checks the inside of the cab.
He finds it in the back of the truck, waving me over to take a peek into the bed. It takes me a second to recognize it as a cell phone smashed to bits.
“If I were a betting man, I’d say that’s Remi’s phone,” he states, pulling out his own cell to take a few pictures.
“Didn’t that get—”
“Stolen. Yes, which means we should probably get out of here, lock this place down, and call the feds. This wasn’t about you or your business, this was for the boy. A warning,” he adds.
His last statement sends cold chills down my back and jolts me into action.
He catches me by the back door.
“Hold up. I’m coming with you.”
Outside he barks orders for his deputies to guard any entrances and not to let anyone inside until the FBI gets here. Then he pulls on my sleeve.
“You can ride with me.”
Good, because my truck has been blocked in by Roy’s SUV.
He’s already on his phone—it sounds like he’s talking to Special Agent Mancuso—when I get into the passenger side. While he reverses out of the back lot, I dial Tessa’s number to give her a heads-up. She needs to know what’s going on before we roll up to her house in a cruiser.
“Pretty sure that’s his phone,” she says ten minutes later, when Althoff shows her the pictures he took. “I can still see parts of the BMX decal he put on it. He used to be into that.”
She’d been all business when I called her. Short and to the point in her questions, even though I didn’t have a whole hell of a lot to tell her. One of her FBI guards was already inside the house when we got here.
She’s still all business now, clearly in professional mode.
I feel distinctly out of my depth, with nothing to contribute as I listen to the three law enforcement officers talk about fingerprints and video feeds.
But I do find out the movement, alerting Battaglia Security on the security camera at the rear of the firehouse, had been the light from the motion detector installed over the back door coming on, and a brief glimpse of an arm, swinging what looked to be a crowbar or something like it.
Unfortunately, whoever broke in seemed aware of the camera and made sure not to give their identity away.
“They’ve had eyes on the place,” Althoff suggests. “First of all, they didn’t seem worried about the motion detector light and steered clear of camera view. They also brought a crowbar, which means they knew the flimsy door and lock would be fairly easy to breach.”
The comment about the door stings a little, but that doesn’t mean he’s not right. I should’ve done something about that when I went through the trouble of having the security system installed. I’ll have to do it now.
I guess I’m still getting used to the fact our harmless little town is growing by the minute and is not nearly as innocent anymore.
“And the final reason I know they were watching,” the man concludes. “They must’ve known no one was there, if they were making that kind of noise at that time of night.”
I’ll admit, I’m mildly creeped out by the fact someone’s been watching. Mostly because it would suggest Tessa and her boys are under close scrutiny. I doubt I hold any interest for them, other than perhaps being an added access point for them to get to Remi.
I’m starting to wonder if perhaps the boy wouldn’t be better served if I took myself out of the equation.
Tessa
“No.”
I put my hands on my hips to give my refusal more emphasis, but already Clem is shaking his head.
“I’m gonna head back to the firehouse to meet with Mancuso and give you guys some time to figure this out,” Rick says, moving toward the door. “I can always swing by later to give rides or drop stuff off.”
“No need, I’ll come with you. I’m gonna need my truck anyway.”
Disappointment settles like spoiled food in my stomach as Clem follows Althoff out the door.
His solution to the news he’d likely have to spend the night somewhere else was to see if he could check into The Carriage House, a bed-and-breakfast at the edge of town.
It’ll probably take up a good chunk, if not all, of the night before the FBI finishes with the firehouse.
As it is, it’s already near midnight, and checking into a B guys can be so dense.
“And now?” I challenge him.
He shrugs out of his coat and dumps it on the couch too.
“Now I’m wondering how much groveling you’re gonna make me do before I can take you upstairs.”
Instead of answering, I move to the stairs. The boys are at one end of the landing and my bedroom is at the other, so I’m not worried about waking them.
“Turn off the coffeepot and the lights, will you?” I toss over my shoulder as I head up.
I’m in my bathroom, putting my night cream on, when I catch sight of him in the mirror, leaning against the doorframe.
He’s checking me out unapologetically. From my loose hair to the one sexy nightie I own—but have never had the occasion to wear—and down my bare legs, only to come back up to lock his blazing eyes on me.
Goosebumps break out all over my skin at the intensity of his expression when I slowly turn around to face him.
It’s a silent standoff, pheromones and heat making the air between us heavy with electricity. I watch his fists clench by his side in his attempt to hold on to his control. I recognize the invitation to take the lead, which I do by pulling up the hem of my silky nightie and lifting it over my head.
For a moment Clem goes rigid, and for the first time I worry the state of my body—after losing a significant amount of weight over the past couple of years—is a turnoff to him.
But the next moment he’s rushing toward me, his arms locking around me as his mouth plunders mine in a raw explosion of passion.
I moan at the friction of his jeans against my bare legs and the way my nipples brush the flannel of his shirt.
I’m in sensory overload, with his hands all over my backside and his front almost fused with mine.
Even the slight pinch on my scalp when he fists one of his hands in my hair at the back of my neck elicits a flush of heat, aiming straight for the apex between my thighs.
He growls into my mouth, pressing my ass against the cold vanity as he grinds his erection into me.
“Bed,” he mumbles, pulling his head back.
I reluctantly slide from his arms and dart around him, aiming for the king-sized Helix Midnight mattress I invested in when I moved here.
I’m already slipping between the sheets when he follows, his clothes flying left, right, and center as he strips.
Then I notice the condom he must’ve pulled from his pocket, held between his teeth as he tears off the wrapper, and rolls it over his erection.
And fuck, do I like what I see.
He doesn’t hesitate and moves right between the legs I spread for him. His cock feels hot and heavy as he slides his length along my slit, teasing me. I don’t need much encouragement and grab his ass firmly, tilting my hips so I can feel the tip poised at my entrance.
He freezes and locks his eyes on mine.
“Tessa,” he whispers.
Then with one forceful surge of his hips, he plants himself deep inside me.