Slow Burn (27 page)

Officer Kilpatrick opened her mouth to
respond but Ron’s angry words cut her off.

“Listen, I was with Ms. Fitzgerald when Dunn
paid her a visit last night. I know Officer Sanchez. Check with
her. She’ll tell you I’ve clearance to go upstairs.”

There was few mumbled exchange Ashley didn’t
catch, then a smothered curse and the sound of footsteps heading
away and toward the exit. Relief surged through her and she leaned
against the wall to support her weak knees. Maybe she should go
after him and explain. No, that was a bad idea. She wouldn’t bear
the look on his face. As seconds ticked, Ashley wondered what the
officer had told Ron.

Officer Kilpatrick hurried down the stairs,
glanced briefly toward the exit, then looked up at where Ashley
stood waiting at the top of the stairs. “All’s clear.”

When she got to the bottom of the stairs,
Ashley’s gaze automatically went to the exit, too. Ron was nowhere
to be seen. The two officers were in a heated conversation when she
approached them.

“What did he tell Mr. Noble?” Ashley
asked.

Officer Kilpatrick took her arm and attempted
to lead her toward the entrance, but Ashley dug in her heels.

“He’s a rookie, Ms. Fitzgerald. I’ll make
sure he’s replaced as soon as possible.”

Her heart dropped. “What did he say?”

There was a slight hesitation. “That it was
you who stipulated that Mr. Noble shouldn’t be allowed to see you,
ma’am.”

Ashley gripped her purse, her heart squeezing
with self-loathing. How could she have done this? How Ron must have
been humiliated. Their time together flashed in her head, haunting
her and reminding her that she’d chosen the coward’s way. She
should have talked to him and explained her fears, instead of
letting the guard and the cops do her dirty work.
I’m sorry,
baby. I promise to make it up to you.

“Ms. Fitzgerald?”

“I don’t think I’ll visit the cemetery after
all. I’m going back upstairs. Excuse me.” She turned and hurried
back toward the stairs.

Once inside her loft, Ashley settled on the
couch with a drawing pad and started sketching—flashes from her
nightmare, faces of her parents’ assailants, her parents, the room,
things she’d felt and touched. When she finished, she felt much
calmer.

CHAPTER 14

“That’s it,” Ashley muttered
and
threw
the pencil on the table. She’d been working on the damn painting
the entire evening. Afternoon and evening. The results were still
pitiful. Being stuck inside the loft was messing with her creative
juices, or something was missing.

Her gaze shifted to the finished canvas to
her right. Detailed and vibrant, she’d caught Ron’s quirky grin and
smoldering eyes. Muscular arms curved behind his head, golden skin
draped over rippling chest muscles and abs begged for a lover’s
caress. The low-hanging jeans were guaranteed to whet any woman’s
appetite. Hers included. How she missed him. She hadn’t heard a
peep from him for three, long, self-imposed torturous days.

It was her fault. She could easily have
picked up the phone and called him to apologize, to beg him to come
back to her. But she hadn’t. Instead, she’d hidden inside her loft,
not seeing anyone, including her family. The idea of her being used
as bait for Dunn didn’t sit well with her aunt and cousins. They
kept calling. Even her uncle and cousins with the L.A.P.D. had
tried to convince her to let a female cop take her place. Claiming
she had a deadline had come to her rescue.

Ashley reached for her cell phone,
speed-dialed a number and brought the instrument to her ear.

“Hey,” her cousin’s deep voice answered. “How
are you holding up?”

“Okay.” There was something so comforting
about having Eddie work with her. He might be the most hotheaded of
her cousins but when it came to police work, he was the best.

“I know I’m becoming a pest, but—”

“You’re not. You want these bastards off your
back as much as I do. Noble is onto something here. I just wish you
weren’t involved.”

No point beating that dead horse. “Did you
find anything?”

“I’m still running facial recognition but so
far neither the drawing nor Vaughn’s driver match any known
criminal in our database. But I know the man’s name is Francis
‘Frankie’ Higgins. He’s worked for the Doyles for years, including
the time of the fire. His background is nonexistent. He doesn’t pay
taxes and has no bank account in this country. It’s like he
appeared out of nowhere, which raised a red flag in my head. So I
dug deeper. I hit pay dirt earlier today when his name popped up at
the immigration checkpoint in Tijuana. He entered the country three
weeks ago using a Honduran passport, but according to the
Federales
, he resides in a small fishing village near
Guadalajara.”

“Wow, Eddie. That’s amazing.”

“Just doing my job. I plan to pay Noble’s
P.I. buddy a visit to see what he’s unearthed too.”

Her heart shifted. Maybe Ron would be with
Kenny. Eddie could tell him how he looked. “Can you call me after
you talk to him?”

“Sure, Ashley. Hang tight. We’ll get Dunn and
whoever is behind this.”

His confidence was reassuring. Feeling a
little better, Ashley put the phone down and sighed. Her cell
started to sing again.

Ron. “Please let it be him,” she whispered
under her breath. The caller I.D. said it was her colleague from
the children’s museum project. Ashley sighed with
disappointment.

“Hey, guys?” she said louder, trying not to
sound disappointed.

“Do we have news for you,” Micah said with
excitement.

“First ask how she’s feeling, bonehead,” Josh
added in the background. “Hey, boss. How’re you feeling?”

Ashley closed her eyes and pinched the bridge
of her nose. The two of them were talking to her on a speakerphone
at a party, judging from the noise in the background, and that was
too much to take now. She’d called them on Sunday night and told
them she’d be gone most of the week because she wasn’t feeling
well—a good enough excuse at the time. Now she could swear she was
coming down with something. Yes, a major case of self-pity. Psycho
Dunn was no show, Ron had given up on seeing her without a fight
and cabin fever was kicking in. She didn’t know whether she needed
a rest or a kick in the rear end. Cutting Ron loose was the dumbest
thing she’d done this year.

“Hanging in there,” she lied smoothly, got up
from her chair and headed to the kitchen. A glass of wine would
have to do for now.

“Then we have something that’s sure to speed
up your recovery,” Micah said, interrupting her thoughts.

“The museum found a new benefactor,” Josh
added.

“They now want us to do the rest of the
building,” they finished in unison.

“Whoa. When did this happen?” Ashley asked,
her spirits lifting already. Six months ago, the museum officials
had given her a smaller contract and cited limited funding.

“Some dude stopped by this morning,” Micah
explained. “I didn’t really know why at the time and just answered
his questions. Turned out he came to check out our work.”

“He came back this evening with the president
of the museum and…,” Josh paused for effect.

“An offer we can’t refuse,” Micah finished.
“Free reins on the inside and outside walls, Ashley. Imagine the
possibilities.”

Ashley was loving it. She pulled out a bottle
of Merlot from the fridge, nudged the door closed with her elbow
and reached for a glass. Maybe they could now incorporate more of
the local children’s artwork in some of the murals. The president
of the museum had liked the idea when Ashley first presented it to
her, but hadn’t endorsed it because of lack of funds. The small
contest she was running now was coordinated with local art
teachers.

“That’s great news, guys.” She poured a
generous amount of the wine in the glass, took a sip and propped
her elbows against the counter. “So, what’s the catch?”

“Why should there be one?” Josh said. “We’re
good.”

“Freakin’ awesome,” Micah chimed.

“They want us to meet and sign the contract
this week,” Josh continued. “The only thing the guy mentioned was
that he would like to see more local artists involved. Anyway, the
meeting is set for Thursday. Do you think you’ll make it?”

Ashley sipped more wine and scowled. No one
ever signed anything until the customer approved the designs. Why
the haste?

“I don’t know guys. I’ll have to discuss it
with…,” she almost said Officer Kilpatrick, “my cousin.” I’m
supposed to have a show in his gallery in six months.”

“You can’t let this opportunity pass,
Ashley,” Micah urged. “It’s a no-go without you. The dude even
mentioned using us to do a club his company is opening in Culver
City.”

That was where Carlyle House was. Could Ron
be behind this? She wouldn’t put it past him. “What’s the name of
this generous benefactor?”

“Doyle. He’s the son of that billionaire real
estate dude, Ryan Doyle.” Then she heard Micah ask Josh, “What was
his first name…Vince?”

Ashley’s stomach had dropped at the mention
of Doyle. Was Vaughn Doyle planning to turn Carlyle House into a
club?

“Guys,” she said, trying to get their
attention, but Josh and Micah were still arguing about Vaughn’s
name. “Hey. His first name is Vaughn.”

“Yeah, Vaughn Doyle,” Micah said. “So, are
you going to make it on Thursday? The meeting is upstairs on the
third floor.”

It would be great to work with more local
artists and highlight children’s works, but signing a deal that
included Vaughn Doyle was out of the question. She didn’t trust
him. What was he hoping to achieve with this art endowment? “Let me
think about it.”

“Come on, Ash,” Josh urged. “The man’s
throwing money our way. We’d be fools to turn it down.”

“Have you any idea how hard it is for
starting artists like us to find a steady, paying job?” Micah
added.

“Or our work on display for all to see,” Josh
added the nail in the coffin.

Ashley groaned. They were doing a darn good
job of making her feel guilty, the little demons. Although they had
loads of talent, they were too inexperienced as businessmen.

“There’s lots of thing you have to discuss
and agree on before you commit to anything.” She raised her glass
to her lips, her anger steaming. Was Vaughn trying to buy her off?
Ron sold him Carlyle House behind her back? No, Ron couldn’t do
that, no matter how pissed at her he was. On the other hand, she’d
told him she didn’t want the house anymore.

“Listen, guys, I don’t think I’ll—”

She gasped at the looming figure outside her
kitchen window. Dunn! How had he gotten up here? The glass slipped
from her hand, hit the granite counter and shuttered. Ashley took a
step back and raised her arms to protect her face as wine and
pieces of broken glass went flying everywhere.

He tapped on her window just as Ashley opened
her mouth to scream. She froze, noting the firefighter’s helmet and
the yellow and silver reflective stripes on the intruder’s jacket.
Then the figure pulled off the helmet, leaned closer to the window
and mouthed, “Open the window.”

Ron? The crazy man didn’t just climb up to
her window. A burst of excitement surged through her. He was here.
Ashley placed the phone back on her ear. “Guys—”

“What’s going on?” Josh and Micah spoke at
the same time.

Of course, she couldn’t tell them the truth,
but she wanted them off the phone. “Something crawled up my
window.” Something delicious. “Let’s talk tomorrow, guys, okay?
I’ve got to go. Bye.”

She put the phone down, did her best to avoid
shards of broken glass as she unlocked the glass window and slid it
open. The light pouring through the window bathed his handsome face
and gleaming eyes. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in days and the
stubble on his jaw made him look like a marauding pirate. Instead
of feeling intimidated, a steaming sensation spread under her
skin.

“What are you doing out there, Ron?” she
asked, trying to sound irritated but failing. “You scared the
living daylights out of me.”

“Good.” He pointed at the meshed window
cover. “Pull it off the frame because I’m coming in.”

The cops were probably on their way upstairs,
but she didn’t care. She started tugging at the tabs at the edge of
the frame. “Why didn’t you just call?”

“So you’d screen my calls? I don’t think so.”
His voice was low and intense.

Why wasn’t the damned frame coming off? “I
don’t think this is a good idea,” Ashley said with each tug.

“Step back.” From the determined look in his
blue eyes, he’d bring the whole window down and not care.

“I don’t think so.” The frame popped off just
as she heard a scuffle outside her door.
Oh crap, the cops.
“I’m coming,” she yelled and turned to race toward the door. A loud
thud reverberated around the loft as one of the officers kicked it
open. The alarm went off. Officer Kilpatrick and her new male
partner charged into the room, their weapons drawn.

“Step back, Ms. Fitzgerald,” the officers
ordered.

“No. It’s not Dunn,” Ashley yelled, her hands
raised, her body between the officers and the window. “He’s my
friend…Ron Noble.” She looked over her shoulder to find Ron still
outside her window, his gaze on the cops. “Remember him from the
lobby on Sunday, Officer Kilpatrick?”

“Oh, you.” The woman looked at Ashley, her
gun still drawn. “Do you want us to escort him downstairs,
ma’am?”

Not if she could help it. “No, that won’t be
necessary. Thank you.” Ashley hurried to disarm her security
system. The silence that followed was deafening. She flashed the
officers an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry you thought he was
Dunn.”

Kilpatrick lowered her weapon and shoved it
in the holster. “If you want to change the arrangement you made
with Officer Sanchez, please clear it with me first. We don’t want
to hurt an innocent man.”