Slow Burn (17 page)

“I want us to meet at my home instead of the
office,” Kirkland said briskly.

Something in his voice pushed Ron’s seductive
words to the inner recess of her mind and brought back sanity.
“Sure, Uncle Jerry. Is everything okay? You sound funny.”

“Everything is fine.” There was silence,
then, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

There was a loud noise in the background then
she heard him curse. “Uncle Jerry? Are you okay?” There was
silence. “Hello. Are you still there? Uncle Jerry?”

“Yes.” His voice was breathless. “I don’t
know what’s going on, but someone on a motorbike has been following
me these couple of days. I thought I saw him outside the building
as I drove in.”

Why would anyone be following him? Kirkland
was semi-retired from the law firm he co-founded. He only handled a
few accounts, including hers. “Are you alone in the office?”

“For the moment I’m in the underground
garage, heading to the elevators,” Kirkland said. “I don’t want you
to worry about me. Shouldn’t have mentioned the biker, except I
wanted you to know why we’ll be meeting at home. Give me an hour or
so. I mean to stop by the police station and give them the
description. Just a second.”

Silence followed.

“Hello,” Ashley said into the phone after a
while. “Uncle Jerry?” When her cell indicated the call was
terminated, Ashley put the phone down. “That’s strange.”

“What is?” Ron asked. He had taken over from
where she’d stopped, finished cooking the eggs and now scooped them
into two plates.

“That was Jeremy Kirkland. He wants us to
meet at his home. Thanks,” she added when he slid a plate in front
of her.

Ron frowned, wolfing down his food. “What’s
strange about that?”

“He thinks someone has been following him. He
sounded scared, so unlike himself. He said he was going to the
police, told me to wait a second then hung up. Why would anyone
follow Uncle Jerry? He’s a harmless, old man. What if he’s in
trouble?”

“Easy, sweetheart.” Ron squeezed her hand,
his eyes searching her face. “Why don’t you call him back?”

She should have thought of that. Why did she
always choose the worst-case scenario? She quickly dialed his cell
number, but the phone went unanswered. She couldn’t control the
fear that gripped her.

“He’s not answering. Do you think…?” She
shook her head. It was foolish to ask Ron if she was worried over
nothing or if the aging lawyer could really be in trouble. That old
man had been like a father to her. If he were in trouble, she had
to help him.

Ashley plucked a sheet from a Post-It and
scribbled like crazy, then pressed it on the fridge door. Only then
did she look at Ron. “I have to go to his office and make sure he’s
okay. Finish your breakfast. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m coming with you,” Ron said. He pushed
his half-eaten food aside and went to get his socks and shoes.

“Thanks. I’ll call the cops too, just in
case.” She grabbed her cell phone and dialed 911.

CHAPTER 9

Ron gave Ashley a concerned glance. She had
been shredding her lower lip ever since they left her place. She
was convinced that something had happened to Kirkland.

“Ease up, sweetheart.” He reached over and
briefly gripped her hand. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry
about.”

“You didn’t hear the fear in his voice, Ron.
Who would anyone follow Uncle Jerry? He’s such a nice guy.”

Even nice lawyers could rub a client the
wrong way, he thought, but he was sure she would not want to hear
that. “You need to stop thinking about the worst case scenario.
There’s probably a good explanation for his behavior.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated.
“Like I said, you didn’t hear him. Uncle Jerry is not easily
scared. Someone is…was after him. Can we go a little faster,
please?” she urged.

If they went any faster, they’d end up on top
of the cars in front of them. “What kind of clients does Kirkland
work with?”

“Not the kind who’d want to hurt him. He
doesn’t even accept new clients anymore. The ones he has are older
people who’ve been with him for years. Most of them are actually
his close friends.”

“There you go. Friends don’t do each other
in.”

“What about their children?” she added with a
frown. “Maybe someone wants their trust fund, and Uncle Jerry is in
the way.”

A smile crossed his lips. Ashley, he was
quickly finding out, was stubborn once she decided on something.
Arguing with her was pointless. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

For a while, they drove in tense silence. At
the next stop light, Ron studied Ashley’s profile from the corner
of his eye. She held her auburn hair in a ponytail, but a few
strands escaped and now caressed her soft cheeks. Her eyes were
narrowed with distress, her brow furrowed and hands clenched. He
wished he could ease her worries.

If people had told him a week ago that he’d
be more concerned about comforting a woman he was attracted to than
bedding her, he would have said they were out of their minds.
Earlier, when she looked at him with concern, he almost explained
why he was tired and sleepy, which would have led to why winning
the McClain contract was important to him. He wasn’t yet ready to
share his dysfunctional family’s dirty laundry. What then did he
want from Ashley? As a rule, he didn’t do relationships. The women
he bedded knew the score from the word go.

If there was something he learned since he
was a kid, it was never to leave himself vulnerable. People were
vicious. Like predators, they knew when a person was at his weakest
point, knew when to swoop down to do more damage. The only way to
survive was to be vigilant, to stay strong.

“Ron?” Ashley touched his arm then her hand
dropped and accidentally grazed his thigh.

His muscles tightened. “What is it?”

“You were so deep in thought. Are you all
right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Could you turn right at the next
light? That should bring us to the back of Uncle Jerry’s building
and near the entrance of their underground parking garage.”

Ron nodded then muttered a curse a few
minutes later when he entered the street and saw a crowd of people
and squad cars near Valley Towers. The top part of an ambulance was
visible from where they were.

“Oh, no,” Ashley murmured. “Stop the
car.”

“Ashley, don’t jump to any conclusions just
yet.”

“Just stop the car, Ron. Please.” She threw
off her seat belt, readied herself to get out at a moment’s
notice.

Ron looked up and down, but cars lined the
street on both sides. There was nowhere to park. He stopped in the
middle of the street. “Ashley—”

“Find a place to park and catch up,” she
yelled, as she jumped out and hurried toward the crowd.

He stared after her and shook his head. A car
honked behind him and he stepped on the gas. Five minutes later, he
found a spot to park.

By the time he caught up with Ashley, a young
officer was asking her, “Are you Mr. Kirkland’s relative,
ma’am?”

“A family friend,” she answered, craning her
neck to see what the paramedics were doing. “How badly hurt is he?
Is he going to be okay? Can I ride with him in the ambulance?”

“Only immediate family,” the officer
explained impatiently. “Move away from the yellow tape, miss.”

“But I’m his niece,” Ashley interjected.
“Well, you know, not blood niece, but close. I’m practically
family.” When the officer scowled at her, she took a step back.
“You could at least tell me what hospital they’re taking him to.”
The officer ignored her.

Ron tugged Ashley’s arm. “Come on.”

“Can you believe this guy?” She jerked her
head toward the police officer. “He won’t tell me what’s going on
or let me through. If I hadn’t called them, they wouldn’t have
known about the accident.”

“I know. Let’s go back to the car. We can
follow the ambulance.”

“What did she say?” the officer interrupted
their exchange. “Are you the woman who reported the attack?” When
Ashley nodded, he said, “Wait just a minute. You fled the scene of
the crime.” Before Ashley could say anything, the officer dropped
his chin to talk into his walkie-talkie. “Sir, I’ve apprehended the
suspect…yes, sir…she’s right here with me.”

“Suspect?” Ashley screeched.

“Officer, there’s a misunderstanding,” Ron
interrupted. “Ms. Fitzgerald is not a suspect.”

The burly police officer turned to stare at
them with piercing eyes. “She reported talking with Kirkland before
the attack, called 911, then disappeared. Were you with her at the
time, sir?”

This was ridiculous. Ron’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re making a grave mistake, Officer…?”

“Rudolf. And there’s no mistake.”

“Listen,” Ron snapped. “Mr. Kirkland called
Ms. Fitzgerald on his cell phone. He hung up abruptly, but when she
called him back, he didn’t pick up his phone. That’s when she
called 911. She had no idea what was going on. She was merely
concerned.”

“You’re saying she didn’t witness the
incident?” Officer Rudolf asked.

“Yes,” Ashley and Ron said in unison.

“We have to straighten this out.” The officer
muttered a curse. “At least ten officers are going through this
building questioning people and trying to find you, Ms. Fitzgerald.
We’d assumed that you were either involved or witnessed Mr.
Kirkland’s attack. Excuse me.” The officer radioed someone on his
walkie-talkie and explained the situation.

When the ambulance started up the ramp, the
on-lookers moved back and out of the way. Ron turned to Ashley. “We
need to go.”

“Not so fast, sir,” Officer Rudolf ordered.
“We need a statement from the lady first.”

“Not now, please.” Ashley pointed at the
ambulance. “We must follow them.”

“Ashley?” Ron said at the same time as the
officer chimed, “Ma’am?”

Ashley scowled. “You’re not going to detain
me here, Officer Rudolf. Not when my uncle needs me. I must be at
the hospital when they bring him in or Aunt Sonya…oh, Sonya.” She
covered her mouth, her eyes rounded. “Ron,” she whispered. “We have
to tell her what happened.”

Ron turned to Officer Rudolf. “Has someone
informed Mrs. Kirkland what happened, sir?”

“A squad car was sent to his home, if that’s
what you’re asking,” the officer answered. “About that statement,
Ms. Fitzgerald?”

Ashley sighed. “Listen, I must be at the
hospital for my aunt,” Ashley added. “She’ll need me. She’s very
frail, and the shock of seeing her husband might be too much for
her. Please.” The officer remained unmoved. “If you need someone to
vouch that I won’t disappear on you, call my cousins or uncle.
They’re in the force, just at different precincts.”

The officer’s gaze narrowed. “You’re taking
about Captain Lou Fitzgerald and his son Eddie and nephew—”

“Yes,” Ashley said, her eyes on the ambulance
as it disappeared down the street. “Where are they taking him?”

“Good Samaritan,” Officer Rudolf said. “But I
must have your full name and address.”

Ashley froze, her eyes fixed on the line of
squad cars leaving the parking garage. Then she clutched her throat
and started to cough.

“Ashley?” Ron reached for her. “Are you
okay?”

“Smoke,” she whispered.

“What?” Ron asked.

She staggered, her eyes filled with
confusion. “I remembered something.”

“Is she okay?” Officer Rudolf asked from
behind them.

“No, she isn’t. She needs to sit down.” Ron
placed his arms protectively around Ashley.

He gave the officer Ashley’s phone numbers
and address, his name and phone number, before he led Ashley to his
truck. As they walked, his arms tightened around her when she
stumbled.

“I remembered something, Ron. The image was
so real. I was in a room, a dark room, and it smelled kind of
funny. I was looking through an opening into that room.”

“What room?”

“The one in the pictures you showed me. There
was smoke everywhere.” She frowned and rubbed her temple. “I was
more scared of something else, not sure what, than I was of the
fire. Does that make sense?”

Ron nodded. It did if someone or something
had frightened her before the fire started. “Absolutely. C’mon.
Into the car you go.” He helped her in and started to buckle her
seatbelt.

“Hey, I’m not an invalid,” she protested with
a slight grin and snapped the seatbelt on. But the smile was gone
from her lips by the time Ron sat in the driver’s seat. “This isn’t
the first time I remembered something about that night.”

“What have you remembered?” He pulled out of
the parking lot. “And what triggered them?”

“I think seeing the ambulance or the squad
cars might have triggered this one, but the first one occurred when
we were discussing the pictures. I remembered that I was filthy
that night.” She massaged her temples. “It didn’t make any sense.
Carlyle House was a first class club. Why would I be dirty? ”

Why indeed. When he’d seen the footage of the
chaos outside the house on the night of the fire, Ashley had a
blanket around her. The brave expression on her face had held his
interest more than anything else. He tried to recall the layout.
The last time he’d gone there was eight years ago, after his family
fixed it up and before the nuns moved in. He’d never actually seen
every room and couldn’t say whether there were dusty hidden closets
or dingy, funny-smelling rooms.

“Have you gone back to Carlyle House since
the fire?” he asked.

“No.”

“Would you like to?” When she hesitated, he
added, “It might help jog your memory.”

Furrowed lines appeared on her forehead.
“Yes. I think I’d like to visit it. I couldn’t bring myself to do
it before, even after I read that it was on the market. But now I’m
ready.”

Outside Good Samaritan ER, he used the valet
service the hospital offered its patients. His gut tightened with
each step. He hated hospitals. Hated the way they smelled, the
sterile atmosphere, the white walls and gray floors. Every damn
time he stepped into one, someone he cared about ended up
dying.