Sleeping Beauty Suspect

He thought she’d bolt anyhow. It was touch-and-go. After a second she picked up her fork again, but he knew it wouldn’t take much to send her running for the front door.

“Look, Whitney, you came here for answers. I wish I had some for you, but I don’t. We got a call to respond to a house fire with a victim trapped inside. When we got there I found you crumpled on an old mattress, unconscious. I barely saw you through all the smoke. The fire was spreading so fast my partner and I barely made it out. That’s the sum total of what I know about the situation.”

The fork in her hand quivered slightly as she raised her eyes to meet his.

“How did anyone know there was a victim trapped inside?”

Chapter Three

Comprehension moved across those handsome features. “Good question.”

Flynn O’Shay was exceptionally handsome with a muscular physique that came from physical work. She hadn’t anticipated this strong tug of attraction when she’d come here looking for answers.

Men were usually drawn to her looks and she wasn’t above using that when it served a purpose because most would-be suitors were quickly put off when they discovered she had a brain and knew how to say no and make it stick.

Flynn was…different. He had a quirky sense of humor that threw her off balance while his innate kindness drew her to him. Her eyes flicked over his T-shirt. No doubt women came on to him the way men did with her. She needed to stay focused. She’d come here for answers, but Flynn claimed he didn’t have any. She should leave.

“The only thing I can figure is that someone saw you carried inside the building and called in the alarm,” Flynn told her.

She tried not to shudder. “Then someone saw the person who set the fire.”

“It’s a good bet,” he agreed. “The fire marshal will be checking with dispatch to see who called the fire in.”

“What if it was from a cell phone?”

“They have technology in place that lets them know who the cell phone is registered to now. They’ll know,” he promised, “and I guarantee you they’ll be talking to that person. You’re going to need to talk with the investigator as well.”

“No.” But she knew he was right.

Flynn chewed and swallowed. He never took his gaze from her. “What are you afraid of, Whitney?”

She couldn’t meet that intense stare. Those eyes saw too much.

“You know who put you in that house, don’t you?”

“No!” If only she did.

“You must have some idea. Murder doesn’t just happen.”

Murder. She tried to wrap her mind around the concept. Someone had tried to murder her. Someone she knew.

She set down her fork carefully. All desire for food had fled.

“Who do you know that likes to set fires?”

“What?”

“I’m thinking either the fire was a copycat and someone hates you enough to murder you in cold blood or you’re a threat to the arsonist’s identity.”

Her mind tried to remember what she’d read and heard about the half-dozen arson fires that had been in the news lately. “I don’t know anyone who’d deliberately burn down a building.”

“Then who wants you dead?”

The image of her stepmother, her perfect features contorted in rage, made her close her eyes. How could she tell Flynn that the leading candidate was her evil stepmother? Talk about trite. Besides, that was mixing fairy tales. In Sleeping Beauty it had been the evil godmother, not the stepmother.

She shook her head. Exhaustion was turning her thoughts absurd. She opened her eyes to find Flynn watching her closely.

“I gather you have a candidate?”

“Of course not,” she protested instantly. Ruby might not care if Whitney dropped dead, but her stepmother wouldn’t go out of her way to make it happen. Trapping an older man and taking him for all she could get, that was Ruby. Murder? No way. Ruby was too clever to show a dark side publicly. No matter what Whitney said or did to provoke her, the former nurse was unfailingly polite and ingratiating. Especially when Whitney’s father was around.

How could he not see through her? The years-old question made her cringe. Braxton Charles was a respected real estate developer. He was no one’s fool.

Until it came to Ruby.

“No amorous ex?” Flynn continued. “Boyfriend, husband, would-be suitor?”

“No.”

“I find that hard to believe. The men around here aren’t all blind or gay.”

She couldn’t even smile at his compliment because her mind had flashed back to last night and Christopher’s unexpected and unwanted advances. While she disliked Ruby intensely, she’d never let it become an issue with Ruby’s much younger brother. She actually liked Christopher. He was handsome, funny, friendly and outgoing. Privately, she’d always considered him something of a puppy.

Until last night.

If she’d been paying more attention to the scene at the door would never have taken place. How had she missed the cues that his teasing had become something more? Had it always been more and she’d been too preoccupied to notice? She would have handled last night better if she’d been prepared and hadn’t been so upset about her father.

Whitney hadn’t realized she was holding a fork until her fingers cramped around it with painful intensity.

“Hey. It was supposed to be a compliment. You okay?”

Carefully, Whitney set the fork down on the plate. “I’m fine.”

His lips thinned. “That is not a look I’d want to cross your face when you were thinking of me.”

She could feel the heat pinking her cheeks once more and cursed the fair skin bequeathed by her mother. “It’s complicated.” Coming here had been a mistake.

“Don’t ever play poker,” he advised.

“It’s not on my to-do list.”

“What is?”

She brought him into focus, reining in her emotions. “Finding the person responsible for what happened last night heads my current list.”

All teasing left his expression. “Then you need to talk to the fire investigator.”

She tensed.