Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Jesslyn finally slowed to a stop to catch her breath. Nathan was about ten yards ahead of her. They’d lost the person who’d just tried to burn her house down.
With her and Kenzie in it.
She bent double, coughing. Stressing her lungs and leg so soon after all the trauma they’d endured probably wasn’t a good thing.
She coughed again and dragged in another breath. Okay, definitely not a good thing. She wasn’t running another step. Couldn’t if someone held a gun to her head.
The sirens drew closer and she straightened, dragging in a few more deep breaths. Her fingers were clamped around the grip of her Glock. She loosened them slightly, then the sound of footsteps spun her around.
Kenzie. “Are you crazy?” her friend asked. A mixture of anger and concern glittered in her dark eyes, and she’d lowered her own weapon to aim it at the ground.
“No. Not crazy,” Jesslyn said. “Desperate. And determined. Mostly desperate.” The words came out hoarse and harsh, and she cleared her throat. Just breathe.
At her honest response, Kenzie’s anger faded to be replaced with compassion. “I know, but you can’t take off like that. Jess, this person wants to kill you.”
“I know that!” She caught another breath. “I know.” The second time came out softer, but still held the punch she needed. And she did know, but they both knew she’d do it again if it meant catching the person terrorizing her and burning down her city.
“On that note,” Kenzie said, tucking her weapon into her holster, “did you get a look at him?”
Jesslyn frowned. “A glimpse, thanks to the streetlights, but there was something different about him this time.”
“Different how?” Nathan asked, joining them but favoring his hip, weapon still drawn, eyes on the shadows.
“He seemed ... smaller. Lighter.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. And faster.”
“Definitely faster,” Nathan said.
She started walking back toward the house. No reason to stand out in the open and invite a bullet. Kenzie walked at her side. Nathan stayed behind her. Covering her back, no doubt.
“Different person?” Kenzie asked.
“If I had to testify, I couldn’t say with one hundred percent certainty, but that makes the most sense to me.” She raked a hand over her hair. “So, I have two people trying to kill me?”
Nathan and Kenzie exchanged a look. “Cole and Andrew are at your house. Let’s go assess the damage.”
When they walked up to her home, she had her second wave of relief for the day. The window to her den was broken, but the damage to the outside was minimal.
The inside? Relief fled and she dreaded looking.
But it had to be done. She walked up the porch steps and entered the foyer. The smell hit her first, of course, and then she surveyed the damage. “Okay, floor is burned in areas, but the trucks didn’t have to flood it with water. We got the worst of it with the extinguishers. Repairs are needed, but it’s not a gut job. Furniture will have to be aired out and so on. Looks like everything can be fixed.”
She was talking to herself, not sure who was listening and didn’t really care.
“Grant could probably take care of this for you,” Kenzie said. Lainie’s brother owned one of the best restoration services in the state. “In the meantime, I think you need to come stay with me. Pack a bag. I’d love to have you. Not glad of the reason, but you can help me plan a wedding.”
“You have to pick a date first,” Jesslyn said absently.
“I’ve picked it.”
Jesslyn raised a brow, her attention now fully on Kenzie. “Do tell. When?”
“Valentine’s Day.”
A snort slipped out before she could stop it. “You’re lying.” There’s no way Kenzie would pick that day. It was too “mushy” for her. “Stop messing with me. It’s not nice.”
Kenzie smiled. “Okay. Yeah. We decided on New Year’s Eve. New marriage, new beginnings, new start, new life. All that.”
“Now that sounds lovely.”
“So you’ll help me plan?”
“Sure. But what if this person decides to toss a cocktail through your window?”
She held up her hands. “I’m moving in with Cole after the wedding so I’m not worried.”
“Kenzie! Not only is that a year from now, that’s your grandmother’s house you just renovated. You should be worried.” How was it she found herself on the verge of laughter when her house was in a shambles? Tears pinpricked her lids. God might have allowed the evil that had taken her birth family, but he’d given her people to love and who loved her, people who’d become her family by choice if not by name. She was grateful.
Kenzie slid an arm around her shoulders. “To the bedroom. Pack. I’ll get Lainie to call her brother to come assess what it’ll take to fix the damage. You can call the insurance company later to get that ball rolling. We’ve got this.”
With Kenzie’s assurances ringing in her ears, Jesslyn packed a suitcase, grabbed her go bag, then looked around her room and followed her friends outside. She slid into the passenger seat of Kenzie’s car and made a mental note to check on her own vehicle. Her insurance companies were going to drop her if she had any more incidents, but that wasn’t why she wanted to catch this person. She wanted to look him in the eye and ask him why he’d chosen her. What it was about her that made him turn her into a target.
Yeah.
She wanted those questions answered ASAP.
NATHAN TUGGED THE SLEEVES of his black blazer down to his wrists. Tuesday, Jesslyn had been quiet and moody, but busy on her laptop. Whatever she’d been doing, she hadn’t shared. If the person after Jesslyn had hoped for another chance at her, he’d been sorely disappointed. She stayed in with her self-appointed bodyguards, and thankfully, there’d been no more fires.
Wednesday morning, the day of Brad’s funeral, was overcast, cold, and gray. Seemed fitting. Carly had come to Nathan’s rental to hang out with Eli, and Nathan had picked Jesslyn up from Kenzie’s home. Now they stood back from the gravesite with the other detectives assigned to the case, watching those who had shown up.
Detective Gil Saunders was a good man in his early fifties who’d solved a lot of cases during his years on the force. Nathan leaned toward him. “So you guys don’t think he jumped?”
“We haven’t ruled it out, but no, we don’t think he did.”
Gil’s partner, Miranda Peterson, crossed her arms and shook her head. “The evidence is inconclusive. And he’s got a pretty insistent friends and family base who say no way. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
The size of the crowd indicated that Brad had been well loved and would be sorely missed. His parents and three siblings, an assort ment of cousins, aunts and uncles, and friends from all the places he did life had turned out in droves.
Nathan stood beside Jesslyn, favoring his hip that had decided to throb despite the meds he’d taken. His running after the guy at Jesslyn’s home hadn’t helped matters, and now he was paying for it. It wouldn’t keep him from doing what was needed, but the annoyance put him on edge.
His gaze swept the crowd once more. The family had opted for a graveside service only, and the pastor was mid-sermon with no end in sight. The fat gray clouds threatened to release their bounty while the wind grabbed at hair and clothing with icy fingers. People shifted, pulling their coats tighter around them with gloved hands.
Nathan nudged Jesslyn, and she looked in the direction he indicated. “Has to be students from the math competition team,” she murmured for his ears only. “They wore their uniforms in his honor.”
“Yeah.”
They stood with heads bowed, gazes on the coffin. Morgan and Claymore bookended them. Kenny stood next to Heath and refused to meet Nathan’s gaze.
Jesslyn leaned into him slightly to get a better view, and he got a whiff of her shampoo. Something light with a hint of vanilla. He breathed deep, his arms almost twitching in his desire to pull her close. He resisted. She’d made no response to his declaration Monday.
She shook her head and auburn strands teased his nose. He shifted backward and she looked at him.
“Who are you looking for?” he asked.
“No one really, just trying to memorize faces.”
“You think the arsonist is here.”
“Don’t you?”
“If he killed Brad, then yes.” He paused. “But that’s confusing. What’s the point in killing him? Making sure he couldn’t talk?”
“If he had something to do with the fires,” Jesslyn said, “then grew a conscience and the killer saw that, then ... yeah. If the arsonist didn’t kill him, then Brad could have jumped because of a guilty conscience. None of that’s out of the realm of possibility.”
“True.”
“Then that probably means Kenny knows more than he’s saying, which I’ve always believed.”
“I agree, but we just don’t have the evidence we need to arrest him. Nothing links to him except his presence at the fires.”
“And honestly, we only know he was actually at one fire. I can’t tell you if that was him at the church or not. Or the hospital. Or at the inspection sites. Or all the places I’ve been and someone’s shown up.”
“Well, Kenny doesn’t drive that make or model car, but that doesn’t mean much. The car’s probably stolen.”
“I know.”
Finally, the minister stepped back and the family filed past the coffin to drop flowers and dirt on it. Sobs echoed and a hard fist squeezed Nathan’s heart. He wanted to know who had done this to a kid who’d had a lot of living left to do.
Brad’s mother spotted them and broke away from her family to walk over and hold out a hand. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” Nathan said. “We’re so very sorry.”
“Just find out the truth, please. I need the truth. One way or another.” She rejoined her family, and Nathan watched for a moment before turning his focus back to the math team.
“They all seem pretty broken up,” he said.
“They do.” When the funeral was over, she walked to the car with him. Once they were buckled in, she turned. “I’ve thought about what you said.”
“About...”
“Dating. You want me to go on a date with you.”
“Ah, that.”
“I ... want to do that...”
“But?”
She swallowed and looked away. Out the window, then down at her hands.
“But?” he asked again.
“But I’m not sure I know how to do that.”
“Do what? Date?”
“Yes.”
He honestly wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Jesslyn—”
“No, let me explain.”
He glanced around and noted the people leaving the service. He’d keep an eye on the crowd while she talked. “Okay.”
“This is embarrassing to even say, but the truth is, I don’t know how to date. I’ve never had a boyfriend. Not a real one. There was a guy in high school who liked me and we hung out some, but when I got a B on a test, I dumped him because I couldn’t afford the distraction. Since then, I’ve never done more than go out with guys in friend groups. I’ve never allowed myself to dream about what it might be like to be normal, to have a relationship. To want something other than justice for my family.”
Nathan swallowed, trying to figure out how to navigate this situation. “I can’t imagine what that was like for you.”
“No, you can’t, but it’s okay. It was my life. It’s not like I knew anything different. And I didn’t care. Not really. I had my goals and I was achieving them one by one.” She shot him a sad smile. “And then you came along.”
“And?” Dare he hope?
“And I like you too, Nathan. A lot. But you could be the same kind of distraction that boy was in high school and I can’t let that happen.”
His hopes plummeted and he cleared his throat. “I see.”
Silence fell between them. He started the car, needing a moment to think.
“But,” she said as he pulled out of the parking lot, “Lainie asked me a question that I can’t stop thinking about.”
“What’s that?”
“She asked if I thought my family would expect me to sacrifice my life, my happiness for their justice.”
“Wow. That’s pretty deep.”
“Very.”
“Did you have an answer?”
“No. I mean I know what the right answer is. Or what the answer should be. They’d never want me to do that. But then again, I didn’t really have the chance to know them long enough and well enough to know if that’s true or not.”
“What would your aunt Carol say?”
“That they’d want me to live my life, not sacrifice it. She’s encouraged me to do that for years. Especially when she saw how driven I was to excel in my career choice.”
“Then why do you feel like you have to? Sacrifice your life, I mean.”
“I don’t feel like I have to, I feel like I want to know who killed my family. No. I need to know. I need someone to blame, Nathan. I need to put a face and a name to the arsonist. And now, I need to know why he’s suddenly decided to target me.”
So she did think the guy they were chasing was the one who’d burned her house down and killed her family twenty years ago.
Frankly, he didn’t think she was wrong. “Then let’s get back to work. We can put our personal ... whatever it is ... on the shelf and when it’s all over, we’ll revisit it if that’s what both of us want.” She nodded, her eyes cloudy. He frowned. “Was there something else?”
“Well, I’ve come this far in unzipping my baggage for all to see. Might as well admit that after all this is over and if we finally manage to catch the person who killed my family, I’m worried I won’t know who I’ll be.”
“What do you mean? You’re still you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve never been me. I’ve always been the poor girl who lost her family and then grew up to be a fire marshal with the whole intention of catching her family’s killer. Other than that? I don’t know who I am or who I’m supposed to be.”
Nathan’s heart slugged a painful beat. He wanted to fix it for her. To help her understand she was amazing and wonderful and that God had a plan for her life. And while part of that plan might entail finding the arsonist who killed her family, there was so much more than that.
“We all have a purpose for being here, Jess,” he said softly. “Some of us just take longer to figure out what that is. I’ve known ever since Danny was killed that I had to be able to protect the people I loved. That I had to have skills and resources to keep them safe.”
“And being an FBI agent is the way that you chose to do that. Makes sense.”
“Yeah. Well, a cop first, but I found I was good at it and loved climbing the ladder. I love my job. Most of the time.”
“And so do I.”
“Then that’s a start, right?”
She offered him a small smile. “Yes. It’s a start.”