Riggs had no idea why he was so anxious about Kate. But he despised seeing any woman attacked, physically or verbally. And some of the locals had practically assaulted her at the meeting.
Billy Hodgkins especially worried him.
Kate might believe the Hodgkins family had gotten an unfair shake, but Billy had always been trouble. Unlike his weaker brother Ned, Billy used his muscles and foul mouth to intimidate.
He’d heard Billy was a mean drunk, too. What if he showed up at Kate’s?
She’s not your responsibility. She doesn’t even like you.
Still, he didn’t turn around. He’d just stop by to see that she’d made it home safely.
An image of Kate in front of that podium taunted him, her glossy auburn hair shimmering over her shoulders, her delicate little chin jutted up as she pleaded her cause.
In high school, she’d been quiet, shy, bookish. Some kids had called her Kate the Brainiac. Other horny idiots had made crude comments about her big boobs and curves, which had made her blush. They’d wanted in her pants.
Like any red-blooded teenage boy, he’d fantasized about having sex with her, too. But Kate wasn’t the type to sleep around. Somewhere deep inside, the crude comments had irked him. They’d felt...wrong.
Kate was a nice girl, the kind who deserved better than being groped in the back seat of a car.
She’d also avoided him like he was on fire. Obviously, she’d heard the rumors about him knocking up Cassidy Fulton. He had dated Cassidy. A couple of times.
Then he’d learned she was just using him. But he’d never told anyone that part. He’d been too embarrassed, had too much pride, so he’d let everyone think they were an item.
When she’d turned up pregnant a couple of months before the shooting, everyone assumed the kid was his. Hell, he’d thought it was, too. Three months after he was injured, when he was mired deep in self-pity and depression and needed something to live for, he’d insisted on a paternity test. Said if the baby was his, he’d take responsibility and marry Cassidy. But she’d laughed in his face. Told him she’d never marry a cripple.
Then the paternity test proved he wasn’t the father. She’d never shared the baby daddy’s name, though.
Struggling with physical therapy and the sting of her cruel comment, he hadn’t bothered to correct the rumor. Worse, Gretta Wright had spread the news that he’d abandoned Cassidy and her child.
At the time, he’d shrugged it off. Had been ticked off at life and hadn’t given a damn what anyone thought about him.
But he was older now and not as shallow. The shooting had changed him. Had literally altered the course of his life.
Not just because he’d taken a bullet. In the chaos of the bloody massacre, he’d felt helpless.
As he’d watched first responders rush to save lives, he’d been awed by their courage. Later, while he lay in bed after surgery, feeling angry and hopeless, one of the firefighters had visited him at the hospital.
That day, Riggs decided he wanted to be like him. Firefighting required skill, physical fitness, as well as mental strength. So, he’d worked his butt off in PT to get back into shape.
Thunder rumbled, storm clouds moving in. He maneuvered a curve then turned onto the street leading to Kate’s house. Smoke caught his eye. Thick plumes floated upward into the darkness. Then flames.
Pulse hammering, he pressed the accelerator and sped up. He raced around another curve, made the turn and spotted the source of the fire.
Kate’s black SUV.
Fear shot through him as he swerved to the side of the road to park and dialed 9-1-1.
Was Kate inside that vehicle?
COLD FEAR ATE at Kate as she stared at the flames shooting into the sky. Red, yellow, orange...
Fire crackled and popped. Glass shattered. Heat seared her. Smoke billowed so thick she could barely breathe.
If she’d waited a few seconds longer to get out, she would have been trapped in her car.
Trembling, she reached inside her purse for her phone to call for help.
“Kate!”
A man’s voice jarred her, and she spotted Riggs jogging toward her.
Firelight from the flames lit his rugged face as he approached. “Are you all right?”
She nodded numbly.
He gently took her face in his hands as if examining her. “Are you hurt?”
Smoke caught in her throat and she coughed. “No,” she said in a ragged whisper.
“What happened?”
“I was driving home and suddenly smelled smoke, so I pulled over.” Her legs felt weak, but she stiffened her spine in an attempt to hold herself upright.
Riggs gently rubbed her arms. “Let’s move away from the fire.” He coaxed her beneath a nearby tree. “Help is on the way.”
She leaned against a boulder on the embankment and he knelt beside her, calming her with soft reassurances. Seconds later, a siren wailed, lights twirling against the inky sky.
“Have you had car trouble lately?” Riggs asked.
“No, that’s what makes this so odd. I don’t understand why it just burst into flames.”
Considering the temperament of the meeting and the animosity toward Kate, suspicions snaked through Riggs.
The wail of sirens grew closer. The firetruck from his own firehouse careened up, the sheriff’s squad car on its tail.
The fire engine screeched to a stop and his team jumped from the truck, geared up and ready to work. His buddy Brian spotted him and threw up a hand.
Riggs squeezed Kate’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes,” Kate said, although the warble to her voice indicated she was anything but okay.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Riggs rushed over to his friend, who was already pulling a hose from the truck.
“What happened?” Brian asked. “Where’s the driver?”
Riggs relayed his conversation with Kate and described the climate at the meeting. “This fire might not be accidental, so look for anything suspicious.”
Brian’s brow lifted. “You think someone tried to kill Kate?”
Riggs shrugged. “I hope not, but we can’t rule it out yet.”
Concern flared in his buddy’s eyes, and he gave a quick nod. “On it.” Brian hurried to join his team.
The sheriff parked and climbed out, his rugged face a scowl as he assessed the situation. Although Riggs had played soccer and Stone football, they’d been friends in school. When Stone’s father had passed, Stone had been a no-brainer for sheriff.
A woman emerged from the front seat of Stone’s car, her body rigid, face in the shadows.
Riggs’s pulse jumped with recognition. Macy Stark. She, Kate and Brynn Gaines were as different as night and day. But as teenagers, they’d been inseparable. He’d been surprised Macy had left town shortly after the shooting.
Had the women stayed in touch?
Stone strode toward Riggs, expression intense. “Where’s Kate?”
Riggs pointed to the tree, his gut clenching. She sat hunched against that rock, her arms wrapped around her legs as if she was trying to hold herself together. He expected Macy to race over to Kate, but she remained rooted by Stone’s car, eyes assessing, serious, calm but questioning.
“Does she need a doctor?” Stone asked.
“I don’t think so. She’s just shaken.” Heat from the blaze made sweat break out on Riggs’s neck.
Or maybe it was fear that Kate’s car fire wasn’t an accident.
KATE SILENTLY REMINDED herself she was safe. She’d lost her car, but she had insurance. Her SUV could be replaced.
At least no one had been hurt.
For months after the shooting, she’d struggled with survivor’s guilt. But losing her mother and seeing classmates die had also taught her to prioritize. A human life, any human life, was more valuable than material possessions.
Her breath quickened. Macy was standing by the sheriff’s car.
A pang of longing swelled inside Kate. At age seven, she, Macy and Brynn had spit on their hands, rubbed them together and declared themselves spit sisters. For years they’d cried, laughed, and shared secrets together. She’d thought they’d always be friends.
But that was before the shooting.
Kate’s shoulders tensed as her gaze met Macy’s. Her former best friend had kept her distance at the town meeting. She hadn’t voiced an opinion one way or the other about the old school being demolished.
What was she doing here now?
Macy pivoted to look at the fire, and Kate noticed her left arm was in a sling. Macy had been athletic and talked about running track in college and then becoming a coach.
Instead, she’d joined the FBI. Had she been injured on the job?
With a quick glance at Kate, Macy joined the sheriff and Riggs.
Kate fought anger. How could the girl she’d once loved like a sister return to town and ignore her? Macy had deserted her when Kate had needed her most.
Memories of tea parties, sleepovers and playing dress-up in Brynn’s mother’s ball gowns flooded Kate. The girls had shopped for dresses for their school dances together, never missed a birthday celebration, and had dreamed about their weddings.
She’d heard Macy had married Trey Cushing after college. Kate hadn’t been invited to the wedding. And Trey seemed an odd fit for Macy, but Kate had never gotten the chance to ask her how they’d wound up together.
A wave of sadness washed over Kate. She and Macy had first bonded when they were five. Kate had heard a noise in the yard by her window and thought it was a sick cat. She and her mother ran outside and found Macy hovering by the bushes, scared and sobbing. Macy’s mother had locked her out of the house. Another time, Kate recalled, Macy’s mother had left her at the park alone.
Both times, Kate’s mother had comforted Macy and welcomed her into their house. Once, when she’d driven Macy home, they’d found Macy’s mother having an “episode,” at least, that was what Macy called it. Later, they’d learned Mrs. Stark was bipolar and had gone off her meds. From then on, Kate and her mother had become Macy’s safe haven.
Yet at Kate’s mother’s funeral, Macy had stood on the edge of the service and stared blankly, as if she hadn’t grown up in Kate’s house. Brynn had still been in the hospital and had needed Macy, too.
But Macy had abandoned them both.
Kate felt even more alone now because of it.
Finally, Macy looked back at her and, for a moment, her eyes filled with some emotion Kate couldn’t define. Regret? Longing?
Blame?
It was your fault.
Whoever sent that message knew Kate’s rejection had sent him over the edge.
Ned’s brother had known. And he’d told Macy and Brynn.
Did her best friends blame her for the shooting? Was that the reason Macy had left town? And the reason she’d finally come back?
When she looked at Kate, did she see their classmates falling to their deaths?
RIGGS KEPT HIS suspicions about the car fire to himself as he drove Kate home. No need to alarm her until it was confirmed the fire was intentional.
She’d been through enough tonight. The sheer fact that she was riding in the truck with him proved how shaken up she was.
He parked in front of her Craftsman bungalow and cut the engine. Her street was in a quiet little neighborhood where mamas and daddies strolled their babies down the sidewalk and joggers ran with their dogs.
An image of Kate smiling as she sipped sweet iced tea on the front porch gave him a pang in his chest. He wished to hell she’d grace him with that smile. At least once.
Instead she was polite. But she kept her distance.
Not that he blamed her.
A picture of Kate pushing a baby stroller struck him out of the blue. Dammit, he’d never thought about having a family himself. But lately a seed of longing had sprouted inside him. He’d grown...what? Tired of being a bachelor? Bored with waking up alone?
Hell, he wasn’t alone. He had friends. Plenty of women to sleep with, if he was interested. Only lately his interest in one-night stands had dwindled.
The guys at the firehouse were his family. Maybe he’d get a dog.
Kate’s soft voice jerked him from his thoughts. “Thanks for the ride, Riggs.”
“No problem.” He itched to say more, to ask her to invite him in and let him stay with her for a while. Why, he didn’t know.
Maybe because she’s the one damn woman who’s never given you the time of day.
Was he really that big of a jerk?
She reached for the door handle and opened it, and he hurried around to help her out. Dammit, she might not like him, but his job made him wary. What if Billy showed up?
After the shooting, everyone had wondered if Ned’d had an accomplice. Billy had been their prime suspect. What if the publicity about the new school was making Billy nervous and he feared the truth would finally be revealed?
Riggs took Kate’s arm as she climbed from his truck, but she tensed and pulled away. “I’m fine, Riggs.” He walked silently beside her to the front door.
Her keys jangled as she removed them from her purse, and her hand trembled so badly she dropped them. He hoped to hell the fire had caused her nerves, that she wasn’t afraid of him.
He might have been a player, but he’d never been rough with a woman. That was his father’s MO.
Riggs stooped, snagged the keys and unlocked the door. “Like it or not, I’m going to look around the house.”
Fear clouded her face, making him feel like a heel for putting it there. She dropped her purse on the foyer table then crossed the room to the cushy blue sofa in front of the stacked stone fireplace. “I realize some people are angry with me, but surely no one would break into my house.”
She was trusting to a fault. Billy was a loose cannon. Riggs refrained from commenting, though, as he walked through her living room and kitchen. The blue and white décor and farmhouse furniture was tasteful and homey, and the scent of lavender filled the room. His own cabin was more rustic and, although the river ran behind the property, he had very little furniture and no photographs or personal touches. It was just a place to sleep.
Kate sank onto the dark blue sofa, picked up an afghan and began to stroke the blanket. Floor-to-ceiling windows flanked both sides of the fireplace, offering a wooded view of her backyard. She must have chosen the house because it was close enough to the school for a short commute, but the house had been built to accommodate a spectacular view of Bear Mountain.
“It’ll just take a minute for me to check the windows and doors,” he said.
Wariness crossed her face, but she nodded.
He paused in the hallway to study the photos of Kate and her mother. Mrs. McKendrick had been the only reason he’d passed English Lit. Those private tutoring sessions had helped him save face and keep his position on the soccer team.
Ned had shot him only a few feet away from Kate’s mother, who’d stepped in front of Ned to save her students. He’d never forget seeing Kate on her hands and knees sobbing over her mother as she’d tried to stop the bleeding. The screams, the bodies falling...the horror. Even through it, Kate had rushed to help others.
She was still trying to do that.
Shaking off the grisly image of the shooting, Riggs checked the guest bedroom window then the master. The room definitely belonged to a woman. A plush lavender comforter covered a large, white ironwork bed, a watercolor of lilacs on the wall above. Candles sat on the nightstand, the lavender scent stronger in here. The bed drew his eyes, eliciting an image of Kate beneath the decadent covers.
What the hell was wrong with him? This lust for Kate was coming out of nowhere.
Angry with himself, he hurriedly checked the windows then the bathrooms and laundry room, searching for a bomb or trigger mechanism that would send her house up in flames like her car.
You’re being paranoid, dude.
Although considering the night’s events, maybe he wasn’t paranoid at all. If that fire was intentional, someone had just tried to kill Kate.