BRAD PULLED RACHEL AWAY FROM KELSEY and her parents. “What happened?”
“That was Reggie. They’re not giving us a place. She’s not a witness in a case yet,” she said.
“You’re kidding. What are we going to do?”
Rachel shook her head. “I can’t take her to my apartment. I have a roommate.”
“I am not leaving her unprotected.” Brad bit his bottom lip. “How about my house? If you can stay there with us.”
“It’s a plan. One we’ll have to sell to Kelsey.”
Rachel didn’t have to convince him of that.
Just as he approached Kelsey, the handler of the bomb dog came out of the garage. “It’s all clear,” he said. “No other bombs.”
“Do you know what was used?” Brad asked.
“No way to tell for sure until it’s analyzed. For my money, it’s ammonia nitrate and fuel oil. The detonator was wired to the garage opener, and when Corelli pressed the button . . .” He spread his hands. “Is he going to be okay?”
“I heard over the scanner that he was stable,” Rachel said.
“How does the rest of the house look?” Brad asked.
“Most of the damage is in the living area over the garage. Bedrooms are intact.”
“Did you say my bedroom is okay? How about my clothes?” Kelsey asked. “Can I go upstairs and pick up a few items?”
Brad hadn’t seen her walk over. “No. It’s still a crime scene,” he said.
“Oh.” Her shoulders drooped. “At least my car wasn’t parked in front of the garage door—that’s where I usually park.”
Kelsey swayed and Brad reached to steady her. She needed to be away from here. It wouldn’t take much of a wind to knock her off her feet.
“Let’s sit in my car,” Brad said. “And decide what we do next.”
She allowed him to lead her to his car, where he helped her get settled in the front seat. Then he motioned Rachel over. “Get in the back,” he said. “That way we can talk.”
When he slid in the driver’s side, Kelsey had her head bent over with her fingertips pressed against her eyes. “I’m taking you to my house,” he said.
“What?” She raised her head, and confusion flickered in her eyes. “I thought . . . you said something about a safe house.”
“My house is safe.”
“I don’t think that you meant your house earlier.”
He sighed. “I’m afraid that deal fell through. So, you’re going to my house, and Rachel is going with us.”
“No. I’ll go to a hotel. Surely this . . . this monster wouldn’t blow up a hotel just to kill me.”
“Going to Brad’s house is the safest thing you can do,” Rachel said. “You’ll have two cops guarding you.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Brad said. “It’s your only option.”
Kelsey braced an elbow on the console and chewed her thumbnail. He waited, fearing anything he said would make her dig her heels in. It would be much better if the idea appealed to her.
She took a breath. “Okay, I’ll go to your house tonight. But we have to pick up my car. I’ll need it to get to work in the morning.”
“We’ll talk about that after we get to my house,” Brad said. No way was she going to the museum tomorrow, even if he had to hogtie her.
A crowd of reporters was hanging around the end of the drive, and he ignored the requests for comments, just waving as they drove past them. His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the number on his dashboard. Andi. His sister. He should have expected her call, but he hadn’t seen her in the crowd of reporters. He pressed the answer button on the steering wheel and said, “No comment, and you’re on my speaker phone, so be careful how you react.”
“Bradley Hollister, I can’t believe you’re involved in this and you didn’t give me a heads-up.”
“I told you no comment.”
“At least tell me if it was a bomb and give me the victim’s name.”
“No comment.”
“Braaad . . .” Andi drew his name out in two syllables.
“Okay, I’ll tell you we’re investigating the possibility of a gas explosion.”
“And not a bomb?”
“That’s all I’m giving you.”
“If it’s not a bomb, why won’t you let me interview the victim?”
“No comment.” He chuckled when she emitted a growl over the phone.
“Thanks for the crumb you tossed me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Brad disconnected and turned right at the next corner. His house was located as far east in Memphis as anyone could get and still be in the city limits. It took fifteen minutes longer than necessary with him making turns and taking streets he wouldn’t normally take in case they had a tail, but when he turned onto his street, no car followed.
He pulled into the well-lit drive, and his lights caught Tripod waiting at the fence. At least if anyone came around, he would bark. Brad pressed the remote garage opener, shuddering as he imagined what would have happened if Kelsey had pulled up to her garage and pressed the remote.
They went in through the kitchen, and a wonderful aroma greeted them. The food Elle cooked. He’d totally forgotten about her.
“Rosemary chicken?” Kelsey set her laptop on the counter. “How?”
“Wow, you’re a neat freak,” Rachel said. “Are you sure you live here?”
They’d both spoken at the same time, and he answered Kelsey first. “Elle was here earlier.”
Then he addressed Rachel’s comment. “What is the big deal about putting things where they belong when you’re finished with them?” That’s all he did. And he had a cleaning person come in once a month. “Don’t tell me you two are messy.”
“I am,” Rachel said. “Disorganized, at least.”
He turned to Kelsey. “I saw your place last night—it was pretty neat.”
He opened the door that led into his backyard and let Tripod in. The dog danced on his three legs while he ruffled his fur. “Tripod, I want you to meet Rachel and Kelsey.”
Kelsey dropped to her knees. “Aw, he’s so pretty,” she said, rubbing his golden coat. “What happened to his leg?”
“I don’t know. He’d already lost it when I got him at the shelter.”
“Well, he’s a sweetheart.” She stood and yawned, stretching her arms out. “I wish we’d stopped at Walmart for a change of clothes.”
He groaned. Clothes had been the last thing on his mind, and he didn’t even have toothbrushes. He turned to Rachel. “If Kelsey makes a list, do you mind picking up what she needs? I’ll pay for it. And get anything you need.”
“I’ll give you a credit card and pay for yours as well,” Kelsey said and stopped in front of the stove. She took the lid off the chicken. “Do you mind?” she asked. “I’m starved.
He picked up the note Elle had left. “There’s potato salad in the fridge.”
Looking at Rachel, he said, “Better put some sort of breakfast food on there—I only have cereal. But why don’t you fix a plate and eat first.”
“I’d rather wait until I get back,” she said.
A few minutes later Kelsey was sitting at the island. “So Elle has a key to your place.”
Her voice was subdued. She had to be exhausted. Probably why she was picking at her food after saying she was starved.
“I keep one inside the garage on a nail.”
He fixed his own plate, then sat across from her. “You’re not eating,” he said. “Elle’s a good cook.”
“I’m sure she is.”
He picked up a second chicken leg with his fingers just as the dog let loose with a frenzy of barks. He wiped his fingers on a napkin and pulled his gun just as the doorbell rang. Couldn’t be Rachel. She just left. He eased to the window and looked out. He holstered his gun. “It’s Elle.”
He opened the door. Even at this late hour, she looked elegant in flowing pants and a white sweater. “I wasn’t expecting to see you back here.”
Smiling, she stepped inside and set her purse on the table by the door before handing him a grocery bag. “I noticed you didn’t have any milk for your cereal in the morning, and I ran to the store . . .” Her smile faded as she glanced past him, and her face turned crimson. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company—”
“It’s not what you think,” he said as he put the milk in the refrigerator. “Elle Deveraux, Kelsey Allen. Her apartment was blown up tonight, and she needed a place to stay.”
“Here?” Elle frowned. “Just the two of you?”
The question rankled. He pressed his lips together.
“No, not the two of us. Detective Sloan will be back in a bit,” Kelsey said and stood. “I think I’ll go to the bathroom and freshen up,” she said. “If you’ll tell me where it is.”
“Down the hall on the right,” Brad and Elle said in unison.
When they were alone, he turned to her. “You thought—”
“I didn’t know what to think. You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend Sunday.”
“Because I don’t.” He had thought about kissing Kelsey. Brad shook the thought off. “She’s part of the investigation.”
“Your cold case investigation?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly her face softened, and she moved into his space. “I’m so sorry. Seeing her here just threw me.”
Her perfume tickled his nose. He could see how she might jump to conclusions. A smile pulled at his lips. She had cooked dinner for him. “Forget it. And thanks for dinner. It’s very good. Would you like to join us?”
She glanced toward the hallway. “That would be—”
The doorbell rang, and Rachel called out, “It’s me and I’m starved. Open the door before I drop something.”
Shrugging an apology, he hurried to let her in and took several of the bags.
“Who would have thought I could get in and out of Walmart so fast? Oh,” she said when she saw Elle.
Brad made the introductions and Rachel said, “Thanks for making dinner. It smells scrumptious.”
“Uh, thank you,” Elle said and picked up her purse. “I think I’ll head home. I’m sure the three of you have a lot to discuss, and I have to get up early in the morning to catch a flight to LA.”
“I’ll walk out with you.” He didn’t think Kelsey’s stalker had followed them, but he wanted to make sure Elle got away all right. “Thanks again for dinner,” he said as he opened her car door. “Sorry it didn’t turn out like you planned.”
She stroked his cheek. “Me too. We’ll try again Saturday night?”
“Let’s touch base Friday night,” he said, staring into her blue eyes. She still sent his heart racing, but . . .
Elle leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Until Friday.”
He walked back to his front door, his mind tangled like fishing cord. Elle was ready to commit to their relationship, he felt it in his bones. So why wasn’t he more excited?