Chapter Fifteen
LOGAN
I hugged both girls one last time and then waved as they made their way up the sidewalk to the front entrance of Maggie's condo.
Nikki was much better today. No fever and not complaining about a sore throat.
Which was good, because if she kept getting strep, eventually they might suggest we get her tonsils removed.
Maggie held up one finger, signaling me to wait as she ushered our kids inside. She headed down the sidewalk with one of her looks that told me I was about to get an earful.
Shit. I couldn't think of a reason why she'd be upset with me. But I had a feeling I was about to find out.
“Why didn't you tell me Jay suggested we hire Izzy months ago?”
I swallowed. How was I supposed to answer that?
“I get you’re still hung up over what your father did, but it's not like you'd ever consider hooking up with your friend's sister.”
I grabbed the back of my neck and looked at the ground between us. This conversation was a minefield of epic proportions.
“Wait.” She gasped.
I glanced back up at her, taking in her wide eyes.
“Oh my God.” Her mouth fell open. “You like her.”
I shook my head. No. My dick liked her. I found her irritating. Well, not her, but the way I lost all sense whenever she was around. Like last night—inviting her to stay and catching myself staring at her multiple times throughout the evening.
Maggie chuckled, and I narrowed my eyes at her. I wasn't doing this with my ex-wife. She might think the situation was funny, but I didn't.
She schooled her features. “Logan, you're single. If you like Izzy, ask her out. It's not the same as your father. You're no longer married.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. That wasn't happening, and now I had even more of a reason to make sure it didn't. “She's amazing with the girls, and reliable, and everything we've wanted in a nanny. I'm not going to screw that up by sleeping with her.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “You've had one serious relationship, and then you married her. I'm sure the next woman you end up dating will end up being something serious. I don't think you're capable of casual.”
“I'm starting to understand why Dylan says we have a strange relationship.” Only my ex-wife would feel it necessary to give me dating advice.
She shrugged. “We were friends long before we were anything more, and we've known each other more than fifteen years at this point.”
“I'm not dating Izzy,” I said, trying to convince myself more than her. Because it was only physical attraction I felt toward her, I was sure. Almost. Regardless, I wasn't willing to screw up the situation with the girls. “So just drop it.”
“Fine.” She sighed. “There’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
I cocked a brow.
“Jesse and I have started talking about moving in together.” I liked the guy she’d been dating since the end of last year, and honestly, I wasn’t surprised by this development in their relationship. “Probably not until the end of summer, though.”
I nodded. “I’m assuming you’re moving into his house?” It made the most sense since he had the extra space and Maggie only had a two-bedroom condo. But it was one town over, which meant a different school district.
“Yeah.” As if she could read my mind she added, “But the girls would stay at the school they’re at now. I’m fine with the extra drive, and I’ll mention it to Izzy as well. I don’t think she’ll mind.”
“Jesse’s a good guy.” A smile lifted my lips. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you. You know I want the same for you, too.”
Jesus. Not this again. I was not dating Izzy Mitchell.
“Just consider what I said. You. Are. Not. Your. Father.” She sent me a sympathetic look and sighed, knowing I wasn’t getting into this with her again.
I wasn’t even sure my father’s behavior was my biggest reason for not getting involved with Izzy.
I’d mostly dealt with his betrayal, although I still refused to touch the trust fund he set up for me.
I had it set up for the girls if, given my career choice, anything ever happened to me. But I didn’t need nor want his money.
Izzy had become a valuable asset to us, and I didn’t want to mess that up.
She also deserved someone close to her age who didn’t have the type of responsibilities I did.
I doubted she’d want something serious with a divorced single dad who had an unpredictable schedule at a job fraught with its own risks.
“I'll drop the girls back off Monday evening.”
Maggie’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and I nodded.
A few moments later, I was back in my truck.
I wanted to make a stop before I went back home.
They’d declared the fire at the old BBQ joint arson, sure it was our guy—or woman, but typically eighty to ninety percent of arson cases involved male perpetrators—but they hadn't been able to find anything that would lead us to a suspect yet. The places are always run down and vacant. No security footage, and so far they’d been able to start the fire without anyone seeing.
All we knew was they were using kerosene as the accelerant, and matches to start it.
Arson is one of the hardest crimes to solve.
The fire itself destroys most evidence left behind.
The chance I would find anything the investigators hadn't was unlikely, but I couldn't sit around and wait for another one to start.
And something was nagging me. Up until now, each location had a broken window, which investigators determined was where the arsonist threw the lit matches into the building. But this one didn't have that.
Why? It didn't make sense. Did he light the matches while he was standing inside the building this time?
Or throw them in from outside the back door?
He could have technically done that at any of the other fires, but didn't. What made this place different?
And this was the only one not set in the early morning hours. It almost felt unplanned.
I parked my truck and grabbed a flashlight before getting out. It wasn't totally dark, the sun making its final descent below the horizon, but inside the building would be dark. It had been more than a week, and the investigators were done with the scene.
I had no clue what the fuck I was doing. What I thought I would find. I gently sifted through the interior remains, looking for anything that might help. A loud clang sounded from outside the back of the building, but when I stepped through the back door, there was no sign of a person.
Movement fifty feet away caught my eye as what looked like a person moved along the tree line.
As I hurried that way, my flashlight shone on something red lying on the ground only ten feet from the back of the building.
A matchbook. I picked it up with one gloved hand, turning it over.
It wasn't charred. So it wasn’t in the building. Did whoever I saw a moment ago drop it?
I pulled out my phone and dialed Dylan. He was not going to like what I had to say.
“What's up?” he asked the moment the call connected.
“I need a favor.”
“Dude, you have a nanny now.” He chuckled. “One that isn't eighty.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not that type of favor. Girls are with Maggie. I'm at the BBQ place, the one that burned down.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm tired of rushing into burning buildings that are being set intentionally.”
He sighed. “Not your job, man. You gotta let the fire investigators take care of it.”
“Yeah, well, they're not.” I huffed out a breath. “Need you to get Violet over here. I found something. I think he's coming back to the scenes after the fact.”
“I'll call Violet on my way over.”
Hopefully, his tech could pull prints from the matchbook. I looked down, turning it over again. The front read Taylor and Sons Plumbing. Or maybe this company could lead us to a suspect.