The world tilted. Vickie hadn’t been mixing up the past and the present. He was here, in the flesh. Dressed as a fireman. “I don’t understand. How can you be here?”
His gaze narrowed. “Fate.”
A chill of terror washed over her. She looked for an escape, but the only place she could go was up the stairs. She took another step back. “Why are you doing this?”
“You ruined my life.” The malice in his brown eyes cut through her like a sharp knife. “You have to pay.” He lunged at her.
Panic revved her blood. He was going to kill her. Spurred into action by the thought, she fled up the staircase, praying she made it to the safety of the bathroom at the end of the hall, where she could lock him out.
Ken pounded up the steps behind her, his heavy footfalls echoing inside her head like nails being pounded into a coffin.
“Please, Lord, help me!” she cried out.
Her parents would alert the police officers. They would come to her rescue. They would call Tim.
She just had to survive long enough for help to reach her. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live. She wanted to tell Tim...
She reached the bathroom and grabbed the door, putting her weight into shutting it behind her, but Ken was hot on her heels. He outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and easily pushed the door inward, sending her stumbling backward. With one giant hand, he shoved her to the floor.
She scrambled away from him, but there was nowhere to go. “Stop! You have to stop.”
Looming over her like some monster from a horror movie, he said, “I won’t stop until you’re dead.”
“What did I do to you?” He was the one who had assaulted her. He’d taken so much from her. Her dreams. Her sense of self. Her ability to trust.
“You took everything away from me!” He slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a gaping hole.
His words made no sense. How could she reason with him when he was clearly out of his mind?
But she had to try if she wanted to live. Keep him talking, she told herself. Give the authorities time to rescue her. “How did I ruin your life?”
“You were a tease,” he growled. “You were just like the others. All teases. Letting a guy think you wanted him, only to refuse.”
There were others he’d assaulted? She shuddered with dread and revulsion. “I never led you on.”
“Yes, you did,” he insisted. “And then you went running to the dean.”
“Dean Abernathy didn’t believe me. No one believed me.”
Ken laughed, a horrible sound that bounced off the pale yellow walls. “Of course they didn’t. They believed me. But when the others came forward after they heard about what you’d claimed—” He clenched his fists. “Not even my parents’ money could make them accept my version of things. They expelled me. I couldn’t graduate or get my degree. If it weren’t for my uncle, I’d be jobless and homeless.”
“But you have a life now,” she pointed out, trying to make sense of what he was telling her. Other women had filed complaints against Ken and the dean had had to expel him. She’d cut off all ties to the school so had not heard about this. “You’re helping people as a firefighter.”
“That’s right,” he said. “And I’m good at it. But then I saw you. Of all the places to land in the world... I’d forgotten you were from here.” His mouth stretched into a thin line. “It was as if Fate had decided to throw me a bone. A bone I intend to bury. It’s time for you to die.”
He advanced on her.
Terror flooded her system. The words of her self-defense instructor echoed through her head. If you can’t run away, then don’t go down without a fight.
There was no way she would let Ken win. He’d taken too much from her already. Her gaze snagged on her curling iron at the edge of the counter near her head. She pushed to her feet and grabbed the iron.
“Get out of the way!” Tim shouted to the other cars as he drove through the late afternoon traffic. He had to reach Vickie, to assure himself she and her parents were safe.
With Greg Sherman in the wind and the discovery that Ken Leland was in town, Tim wouldn’t take any chances. His heart thumped, urging him to go faster. He hit the switch that turned on the strobe lights attached to the roof of his vehicle.
As Tim brought his SUV to a halt outside the Petrov home, several things hit him at once. Mr. and Mrs. Petrov were running out the front door in a wave of smoke. The door slammed shut behind them. Greg Sherman stood on the lawn, doubled over, gagging and coughing. A police cruiser sat at the curb with two officers sitting inside, not moving.
Alarmed by the scene, Tim jumped from his vehicle, released Frodo from his compartment, then raced to the cruiser. Frodo barked and paced while Tim skidded to a halt, then yanked open the driver’s-side door. The officers were unconscious. Or worse, dead.
He reached inside to check the nearest man’s neck and found a pulse. Then he checked the other one. Both alive.
“Agent Ramsey!” Sasha Petrov ran toward him. He coughed as he forced out his words. “Vickie’s still inside.”
With his heart dropping to his toes, Tim grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911. He handed the device to Sasha. “Get help.”
Then Tim, with Frodo at his heels, rushed for the front door. It wouldn’t budge. He used his shoulder as a battering ram and still the door held.
“Agent Ramsey,” Greg yelled. “There’s a fireman in there. He and Vickie are trapped inside.”
Not trapped. Ken was extracting some sort of revenge on Vickie.
Gripped by the certain knowledge that he had to act fast, Tim spied a garden gnome peeking out of the snow-covered flowerbed. He heaved it at the window, shattering the pane into thousands of pieces that rained down to litter the snow.
Not wanting Frodo to cut his paws on broken glass, Tim gave the command, “Stay.”
Then he climbed through the opening, his pants snagging and ripping on shards of glass clinging to the window frame. Inside the house, a layer of smoke hung in the air, but he saw no flames. He released his sidearm from its holster.
A scream came from upstairs. Vickie!
Pushing aside his panic, Tim ran for the staircase and noticed the front door. Anger erupted in his chest at the sight of the pickax wedged beneath the handle. He yanked the offending object away, then opened the door and let out a sharp whistle as he turned and sprinted up the stairs. Frodo raced inside and slipped past him.
A cacophony of noise filled the house. Frodo growling. A man cursing.
Tim reached the landing. Vickie stood in the doorway of the bathroom, holding a curling iron like a baseball bat and swinging at the man dressed as a fireman. He held up his hands in defense while shaking his leg in a useless attempt to dislodge Frodo. The dog’s teeth were clenched around his ankle in a bite and hold. Frodo dragged the man toward Tim.
From outside the house, the wail of sirens announced backup had arrived.
“Ken!” Tim shouted, drawing his attention.
The man swiveled toward him, his gaze wild. “Call off your dog!”
“Let Vickie go.” Tim met her panicked gaze and motioned with his free hand. “Come to me.”
She slid along the wall past Ken, who grabbed at her. “No!”
Vickie dodged Ken’s reach. Frodo swung his powerful head back and forth. Off balance, Ken fell to the floor.
Tim tucked Vickie behind him, while keeping his gun aimed at Ken’s heart. Then he let out a short whistle. Frodo released his captive and backed up, growling and baring his teeth.
“Hands on your head,” Tim shouted. “On your knees.”
Ken hesitated, his eyes on Frodo.
“Do it!” Tim commanded. “Or I release him.”
Slowly, Ken went to his knees and placed his laced fingers on the back of his head. “All right, already. Call off your dog.”
“Ramsey!” Chief Fielding’s voice carried up the staircase.
“Up here.” Tim waited until several officers rushed up the stairs, followed by the chief.
“Come,” Tim instructed Frodo. The dog immediately obeyed, allowing the officers to take Ken into custody and lead him away in handcuffs.
Once they were alone, Vickie shook like a leaf in a windstorm. After holstering his weapon, Tim rubbed her arms. She stared up at him with wide, unfocused eyes. Shock. He drew her to his chest and held her. “You’re safe now.”
She took a shuddering breath. “I was so scared. I thought I was going to die.”
“You held him off with a curling iron.” He couldn’t keep the pride and awe from his voice.
“It was the only thing within reach,” she said. “Not that I could have done much damage against a man in heavy gear. But his head was my target.”
“Hey, whatever works. You’re alive.”
“You saved me.” She smiled and looked toward Frodo. “You both did.”
“You were doing a great job of fending for yourself.” Tim’s heart continued to beat at a fast clip. He knew it wasn’t just from the adrenaline, but because he still held her in his arms.
“Agent Ramsey, everything okay?” Chief Fielding’s voice traveled up the stairs. “We’re taking the suspect to the station.”
Reluctantly, Tim released his hold on Vickie. “We need to go. You’ll have to give a statement. And I want to question Ken Leland.”
Keeping a hand to her back, Tim escorted her downstairs and to the porch. Her parents waited by the chief’s squad car. Greg Sherman was talking with officers. An ambulance was leaving the scene, most likely taking the two unconscious officers to the hospital. Ken Leland sat in the back of a cruiser as it sped away down the street.
Vickie melted into Tim for a moment. He met her gaze, then glanced up at the ball of mistletoe hanging overhead.
“Tradition.” He leaned close, intending to kiss her lips, but at the last second she turned her head. His kiss landed on her soft cheek. Confusion infused him. Why had she turned away?
She stepped out of his reach. “Thank you for everything,” she whispered, and then hurried down the stairs to the waiting arms of her family.
As he and Frodo walked to his SUV, Tim wondered when or if he’d see Vickie Petrov again. The thought of not doing so shattered his heart as effectively as the garden gnome had shattered the window.
After leaving the Petrov home, he followed the police cruiser transporting Ken Leland, aka Joseph Benson, to the police station. Vickie would give her statement at the scene. If the investigation required more, she’d go to the station at a later date.
The drive into town gave Tim time to process the kiss. Or rather the nonkiss.
What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been. That was the problem. From the second he’d realized she was in peril, his brain had gone offline and his heart had taken over. The sight of her brandishing that curling iron at Ken was imprinted on Tim’s mind. She’d looked achingly beautiful and terrified at the same time.
Pride and admiration filled his chest. She had so much strength and courage. She hadn’t wilted beneath the terror of Ken’s assault. Tim thanked God he and Frodo had arrived in time, before the situation had turned deadly. The tangible relief continued to pulse through his veins.
And the moment he and Vickie had passed beneath the mistletoe, he’d given in to the overwhelming need to kiss her.
However, she’d made it perfectly clear she wasn’t receptive to his attention when she’d turned away from him.
Don’t lead her on, bro. You’re a confirmed bachelor.
Dylan’s words echoed in his head as he waited for Ken to be brought to the interrogation room. For so many years now, Tim had used the phrase “confirmed bachelor” as a shield against getting involved. But now the words rang hollow.
But it didn’t matter. Vickie wasn’t interested in him. This was a place he’d been before. He’d survived last time he’d fallen in love and that love hadn’t been returned. And he would survive now.
Shoring up his defenses might take him a few days, but he would do it. No need to pine for something that had never really started. Once this case was closed, he’d file away all thoughts of Vickie, too.
“Good job, Tim,” Special Agent in Charge Max West said as he joined Tim in the hallway. Beside Max, his partner, a regal looking boxer named Opal, came to a halt.
“Thank you, sir.” Doing a good job was important. And what Tim needed to focus on. Not the pretty baker who’d stolen his heart.
Max gestured with his chin toward the closed door of another interrogation room. “Chief Fielding had Johnson brought back in. The guy is seated in there with his lawyer. I’ve already had a chat with him. He’s pinning all the arson on his nephew.”
“And what about the assaults on Vickie?” Tim asked.
“Johnson claims ignorance,” Max said.
Chief Fielding joined them outside the room.
“Any word on your officers?” Max asked him.
Fielding nodded. “Both men will be fine. Their coffee had been drugged with a sedative. They’d stopped at a diner on the way to the house,” the chief told them. “The waitress at the diner places Ken there at the same time.”
“Here’s our suspect now,” Max said, as two officers escorted Ken from booking.
Beside Max his partner, Opal, let out a low growl.
The hair on Frodo’s back rose as he bared his teeth.
Ken’s turnout gear had been removed and he now wore civilian clothes. His brown eyes stared at Tim with unveiled hatred. Tim and Max, along with the dogs, stepped out of the way as the officers led Ken into the room and forced Ken to sit, and linked his cuffed hands to a chain threaded through a ring in the middle of the table.
Tim and Max stepped in to the small space after the two officers left and took seats across from Ken, while Chief Fielding leaned against a wall. Tim would imagine the three of them made an intimidating picture, yet Ken appeared unfazed.
Not even the presence of the two dogs—Frodo sitting at attention next to Tim, with his dark eyes trained on Leland, and Opal, who sat at Max’s side staring just as intently—seemed to bother him.
“We have you solid for assault and attempted murder,” Tim said, as evenly as he could, but the anger he felt leached through each word. “You’re going to prison for a long time.”
Ken held his gaze, his lip curling ever so slightly.
Max spoke. “But you could do yourself a favor by cooperating. Maybe make those years a little less torturous. Tell us about the fires.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ken spat.
Tim laid out the photos of the five fires they suspected he had ignited. “All of these places belong to your uncle, Barry Johnson.” They’d finally found the connection on the other residential property. The deed was in Barry Johnson’s wife’s name.
Ken flicked a glance at the row of images. He shook his head and leaned back. He moved his arms as if to cross them over his chest, but the chain yanked his arms back to the table.
“Just so you know,” Max said. “Your uncle is in another room right now. You think he’s going to take the blame for the fires? He’s serving you up like fish on a platter.”
Tim detected a spark of apprehension in Ken’s gaze. “He’s going to walk away from this with money in his pockets, while you rot in jail.”
Ken’s jawed worked.
“We have officers at your apartment tearing the place apart,” Max said. “We’ll have all the evidence we need to convict you of five counts of arson on top of the charges of assault and attempted murder. You have few precious seconds to come clean. If we leave this room without hearing your story, your uncle walks a free man while you go directly to jail.”
Sweat dripped down the side of Ken’s face. He seemed to be internally debating with himself. Finally, he said, “It was all Uncle Barry. If you find anything in my apartment, he put it there to set me up.”
It seemed the two relatives were willing to sell each other out. “Why would he want to burn down his own properties?”
Ken snorted. “He’s got a gambling addiction. He needs the cash.”
“So you did the deeds in exchange for what?” Max asked.
“You can’t prove I did anything,” Ken retorted. “Even if you find something in my apartment, it’s only circumstantial.”
“When did you decide to go after Vickie?” Tim interjected. “Was it before or after you set the fire at the homeless shelter?”
Nostrils flaring, Ken stayed silent. Rage seethed in his brown eyes.
“Did your uncle tell you she was there?” Max pressed.
“She saw you and you were afraid she’d ID you,” Tim continued. “You decided to silence her. It was your opportunity to make her pay for getting you kicked out of college.”
Ken lifted his chin. “I want a lawyer.”
Tim’s fingers curled. Not even a lawyer could get Ken out of this hot water. “We’ll get you your lawyer. But with Vickie’s testimony and mine, there’s only one way this goes.”
Chief Fielding pushed away from the wall. “I’ll have the prisoner escorted to his cell while he waits for his attorney.”
Tim and Max led the dogs out of the police station. Fresh snow fell as they walked to their respective vehicles.
“Take a week off,” Max told Tim. “You deserve it.”
“Thanks. I will.” Though he had no idea what he and Frodo would do. Maybe fly down to Florida to visit his mother and her family. Frodo didn’t mind flying and a little sunshine and time away from Montana and a certain pretty baker might be just the remedy Tim needed.