Chapter 3 Close Enough To Burn
close enough to burn
After giving her statement to the police officer, it was after ten o'clock when Lana finally left the station. The temperature must have dropped to single digits because she could see her breath in huge white puffs inside her truck. It had been way too long a day, and as she passed by the diner on her way up the hill, she was still shocked by what had happened. The McLaren was long gone now, pulled away by Mason’s tow truck, and the diner would be closed for the time being until repairs could be made.
As for the well-dressed idiot who caused all the terror of her day?
She hoped never to lay eyes on him again.
Except maybe at his bail hearing to tell the judge about her earlier encounter with him on the highway.
All Lana wanted to do was take a long, hot shower, put on her warm pajamas, and climb into the big California king bed waiting for her at the house, and forget the last few hours.
In the morning, she planned to go and visit Rachel at Shelby General.
The facility was about ten miles away, but it was the closest hospital that could handle a serious trauma like Rachel’s.
Hamby only had a dentist’s office and an urgent care clinic in town, and they could do little for someone in a true emergency like tonight.
She yawned, completely drained from the day’s adventures, and steered the truck up the hill on Main towards Deleveaux Circle.
The sky was so dark you could see every star in the sky.
Back in Florida, there was so much light pollution in the city, it always looked like dusk.
The moon was big and bright, and it made shadows that jumped out of every tree she passed.
Lana made a right turn up on Deleveaux, the headlights chasing away the shadows, and drove away from the town square, towards the warm, inviting house on the hill.
KAYDEN CAPSHAW SAT across from Captain Jackson at the police station, sipping his putrid coffee with cuffed hands.
Jackson hunched over his desk and studied him intently as if trying to solve a hard puzzle.
Captain Heathcliff Jackson was a Hamby native and took his job seriously—the diner incident had been the most action the department had had in a while, so he relished the opportunity for real police work.
He was in his late fifties, balding, but still handsome for his age and profession.
The lack of actual crime in Hamby didn’t make for much stress-induced aging like some big cities.
Kayden took another sip of the sludge and waited for the barrage of questions to begin.
“You know I’m going to have to call her, right?” Jackson finally asked.
Kayden nodded his head in agreement. The "her" he was referring to was his mother, and she was not someone he wanted to piss off. This latest run-in with the law was sure to do just that, naturally. Kayden ventured to Hamby to visit family and was already unsure of the reception he would receive. Now he was certain no one would want to see him. He’d made a lot of bad choices over the last couple of years, and it seemed no matter what he did, he kept screwing it up royally.
“Do what you have to,” Kayden replied, setting the mug down.
“You know you have to make some serious changes, son.”
“I’m working on it, Captain. I’m still not even sure how it happened—I looked down at my phone and the next thing I knew, I was in the diner.”
“You’re sure all you did was get distracted because I have a flask and a business card given to us by the good Samaritan that says otherwise. That could shed some additional light.” Jackson was getting angry.
She gave me up, he thought, a slight grin on his mouth. Lana obviously didn’t know his family name or that they practically built Hamby from the ground up. He also figured she wasn’t the type to give a damn either, and that made him smile even more.
“You think any of this is funny, jackass?” Jackson yelled.
The tall, arresting officer with the mustache walked by, his leather boots creaking down the hall with each step.
He looked over at Kayden and snorted in derision.
Kayden knew most of the people in town didn’t like him, and it was his own fault.
People thought he was a spoiled rotten kid with far too much money and not enough discipline.
And they were right to an extent. Back then, he didn’t care what people thought of him, but he did now and wanted desperately to change that perception.
Almost killing a beloved waitress and shutting down the only restaurant in town wouldn’t help much in his efforts.
He would have a lot of making up and ass kissing to do because of it.
“Captain Jackson, I’m going to see to it that Aunt Mae’s is repaired and that the waitress—”
“Rachel,” Jackson interrupted.
“Rachel is taken care of. This will never happen again. I give you my word.” Kayden locked eyes with him.
He meant what he was saying, and he was sick of being a massive disappointment to his family. He wanted to make it right.
“I hope so, kid, or the way you’re heading, your word won’t mean much from prison. I have to call the Chief, excuse me.”
Jackson stood up from the desk and walked away, shaking his head.
Kayden knew the next call he would make would be to his mother as soon as he got the chance.
As he stomped away, Kayden remembered the way his dad would tease his mom about Jackson, and how he had been in love with her since high school.
He’d caught the Captain ogling his mother on many occasions, so it wasn’t hard to believe or notice.
It kind of reminded him of the way Lana looked at him earlier that day on the road, and he hoped to run into her again—preferably not in a car.
AS SHE PULLED up to the large house, Lana got a little nervous, realizing she’d never arrived at night before.
She’d never done anything in Hamby after dark, as a matter of fact.
A girl had to be careful nowadays, small town living or not.
As she pulled the battered truck into the driveway, the cast of shadows against the house made it look like a horror movie scene.
There was only one road leading up to the house, and it was surrounded by dense green forestry.
Before you reached the house, about a quarter mile down the hill, there was a lake, but not much else.
Anyone could be hiding in the trees. She shook the thought from her mind, knowing if she allowed herself to think about it too much, she’d never sleep tonight or even get out of the car, for that matter.
She sat in the driveway and admired the house and its details, although in the darkness it looked foreboding.
It was a new construction, but it still had a lot of character.
A gorgeous cobblestone driveway led up to the stairs to the massive porch.
Stone masonry adorned the outer edges of the double front doors, which were made of wood with frosted glass panels.
And all around the first floor of the house were panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows, so you got a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view from almost every room.
Deciding it was now or never, she climbed out of the truck, her purse and dinner in hand, and ran up the stairs, not even bothering to lock the doors behind her.
She knew her imagination had gotten the best of her when all of a sudden she was trembling at the dark shadows cast on the house by the trees.
She fumbled with the keys as she tried to unlock the door as fast as she could, finally jamming the key into the lock.
Paula insisted on Lana keeping a set for herself, and she was happy she did.
Glancing up, she saw what looked like a shadow through the frosted doors, but there were shadows everywhere.
She stopped a moment, looked back at the truck, and shook her head.
I’ll take my chances. The temperature was dropping by the minute, and she’d probably freeze to death in her jalopy.
The latch turned, and she pushed the doors open slowly and stepped into the darkened house.
Standing in the foyer, the house was warm, as if someone had left the heat on.
Paula. Lana knew the house was equipped with the latest smart home technology, and she probably turned the heat on from her cell phone, knowing her friend.
She was thoughtful that way. Lana relaxed at that realization and closed the double doors, locking them behind her.
Lana did stuff like that—let her imagination get the best of her at the most inopportune times.
She walked down the foyer and noticed a dim flickering of light coming from the living room, and she paused when she smelled smoke.
When she walked in, the fireplace was blazing, and she screamed, dropping her purse and dinner to the hardwood floors. Jumping and also spilling his drink was Kayden Capshaw. Sitting on the couch. In only his boxer briefs.
“What are you doing here?” Lana yelled, trying not to crawl out of her own skin.
Embarrassed and caught off guard, Kayden grabbed a throw pillow and covered himself. He rested what was left of his drink on the glass coffee table, the earlier contents all over his bare chest.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? This is my sister’s house,” he replied, startled but pleasantly surprised.
“Paula asked me to house sit—wait, she’s never mentioned anything about having a brother.”
How could this be? She’d known Paula for almost ten years. Lana snatched up her purse and take-out bag off the floor. She couldn’t believe her eyes for maybe the millionth time that day.
“Well, I am her brother, and I’m pretty sure she left town to avoid having to see me—so there’s that,” he replied and reached for his drink again.
“Ok. So when are you leaving?” She paced back and forth, arms crossed.