An Inner Fire (38 page)

“Niles needed to delay the feds coming into your investigation to give his son time to leave Russia.”

Davis couldn’t remain still. He leaped up from his chair and began to pace. “Niles must have been in pretty deep.” He stood over her. “Why did you come to the station? And what’s this about your abilities could’ve prevented Niles’ death?”

Grayce, still wrapped in her blankets, pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry Grayce. I shouldn’t be dragging you through all of this…”

She tried to straighten her turban. His bedraggled combatant, with her hair tumbling out of the towel, looked like she had survived a major battle. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Maybe he was the one in shock.

He took her hands and squeezed them. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Mitzi, who remained sitting on Grayce’s feet, added a few tail thumps in agreement.

Grayce leaned forward and cupped his face, empathy reflected in her eyes. “I know this is hard for you.”

He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything. He needed to stay in control, to keep all of his buried feelings from spilling out. He stood up. “Did Niles say anything else?”

Grayce’s bright eyes dimmed, she chewed on her lower lip.

“Was there anything else Niles told you?”

“He said, ‘In his prayer book.’”

“Prayer book? I’ve never seen Niles with a prayer book.”

A familiar voice interrupted. “Davis, you sure know how to ruin a girl’s good time. I was on a major hot streak at Bingo.”

James, dressed as La Bete, promenaded into the room. He stopped midway. “My God, Grayce, not again.”

Davis stood to greet James. “I appreciate you coming. I need you to take Grayce home.”

“You didn’t need to call James. I’m capable of driving myself home,” Grayce said.

Mitzi jumped on James, trying to plant a wet kiss on his face.

James had trouble bending in his red heels. “Honey, you’re a beauty and you like other women.” He petted the dog’s head. “We’ve got to find you a tough bitch with a studded collar.”

“Mitzi definitely likes this female.” Davis looked back at Grayce, who was trying to pull up the sweats that were sagging at her feet. “Don’t get up. You need to get some rest.”

Grayce walked toward the men. “I’m better now. I just got chilled from the rain.”

“Why are you wearing sweats that look like they’d fit Attila the Hun?”

“We don’t have any firefighters under five feet,” Davis said.

“Did you hear me, Grayce? You look like hell,” James said.

“I was…” Her voice wobbled.

“Grayce needs to go home. She may have gotten hypothermic. She was outside in the rain.” Davis gave James a very brief summary of the last hour’s events.

“I’ll get her tucked in.”

“Do I have a say?”

Davis leveled his commander look. “You need to go home and take a hot bath.”

“And where will you be while I’m following orders, sir?” Her towel had fallen from her head and her hair fell in disarray around her shoulders.

“I have to stay here and sort through this mess,” Davis said.

“I don’t want to leave you, not now, when…” She edged closer to him. Her voice had gotten soft, quiet.

“Mitzi and I’ll wait outside. We are a bit
de trollop
,” James said.

Grayce wrapped her arms around Davis. Her eyes searched his face. “I don’t want you to be alone. I want to take that look off your face.” Before he could reply she clutched his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

Her lips covered his in a gentle but fervent kiss. So fervent, he forgot about her being cold, about sending her home, so fervent he forgot to breathe.

She kissed him again, whisper-soft kisses this time, whispers against his lips, cheeks, and eyelids, whispers that lingered and promised.

“I mean it this time, Grayce. I’m coming to your house tonight, no matter what time.”

“I’ll be waiting for you, Davis.”

She smiled like Mona Lisa, a woman who knew her worth.

He smiled. Mona Lisa had gone home barefoot.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Grayce was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. She was cold, but couldn’t get warm. She was tense but couldn’t relax.

It was midnight and she waited for Davis to arrive. They would comfort each other, lessen the emptiness, this feeling of detachment, a feeling that Diet Coke and potato chips couldn’t ease.

She reached for the remote and surfed the TV channels, looking for news about the accident. How would the fire department portray Niles’ death? She prayed for Niles and his son, offering a silent plea for both of them.

The local station announced the breaking news at Pioneer Square. The channel hawked the disaster, panning a shot of Pioneer Square and then moving to the spot where Niles had been hit. An icy chill settled deep down into her soul.

She was about to turn off the TV when the final pre-commercial lead announced that a spokesperson from the fire department would be interviewed. Another commercial flicked onto the screen.

The fire department spokesperson’s name
Helen Fitzsimmons, Public Information Officer
flashed across the bottom of the screen. The slender woman stood in front of fire headquarters. A picture of Niles, in full uniform, remained on screen during Helen Fitzsimmons’ prepared statement.

Chaplain Niles Olsen was accidentally hit while crossing the street. There will be an investigation by the Seattle Police Department. The Chaplain will be mourned by the entire community. He has served the fire department with honor for 18 years.

Fitzsimmons concluded with a pledge that the fire chief planned a speedy investigation and promised answers surrounding the chaplain’s death. The chief and the department offered their condolences to their colleague’s family and friends.

Davis would need sympathy. He was hurting and would blame himself, thinking that somehow he could’ve prevented the tragedy.

Grayce flicked on her Enya CD.

She headed to the bathroom to take a hot bath, to heat herself, to soothe her frozen bones and soul.

* * *

Davis gripped the steering wheel, impatient to get away from the station. He shifted back into first and waited in the long line of cars merging to exit the Century Link Field—a fitting end to a nightmarish day, to be stuck in football traffic. The fans streamed down First Avenue. His timing had been off all day.

The traffic started to inch forward. A trip that should’ve taken twenty minutes was turning into an hour. He could still picture Niles bleeding on the cement, which was how the mob honored their promises. He ignored the hurt in his chest close to his heart.

Neither the chief nor Davis could imagine Niles immersed in a criminal life. Niles’ disgrace and death had made Davis feel sullied. Grayce’s deep integrity was the antidote he needed.

Grayce wasn’t answering her phone. She must have fallen asleep. Not exactly how he envisioned their reunion. The aftermath of trauma was rough. The nights were hard after a shock. He wanted to be there, next to her, helping her with the stress.

The traffic started to move. Once away from the snarl around Century Link Field, he made the trip quickly to Fremont.

All the lights were on at Grayce’s house. She must have fallen asleep on the couch. He wouldn’t wake her; just reassure himself she wasn’t upset. Davis climbed the three steps to her front door and peered through the windows trying to catch a glimpse of Grayce. He didn’t see anyone.

He still had a key from his inspection after the fire. He stepped into the house. A singer’s soothing voice crooned through unseen speakers.

If Grayce was asleep in her bedroom, he didn’t want to wake her.

He walked the three steps to Grayce’s bedroom. Napoleon jumped up on the bed, startling Davis into a whole body flinch. He stared at the cat. Napoleon stared back, then jumped down and rubbed against his leg. “Big guy, where is she? Walking Mitzi?”

A voice floated down the hallway, Grayce singing with the sound of water running.

He peered down the hallway. The bathroom door was ajar. Mitzi, back legs extended, lay in the bathroom watching Grayce take her bath. Lucky dog. Mitzi jumped up, her tail wagging. He bent and petted her, giving her a nice scratch under her chin. Grayce continued to sing along with the music, a haunting melody.

Mitzi sauntered to the bedroom as if she knew what Davis intended.

He didn’t want to frighten Grayce. He should wait for her in the living room, but her wafting flowery scent and her lyrical voice beckoned.

Just a peek.

He slowly pushed the door further open, leaning against the door jam. Immersed beneath the bubbles, Grayce rested her head against the edge of the claw-footed tub. Her hair was twisted on top of her head with a few curls clinging to her neck. She lifted her dainty foot to turn the water tap. Unaware, she kept her eyes closed.

He should feel guilty for being a voyeur, but after the harrowing day, he deserved this indulgent interlude. She was tiny enough that the water covered her body, but his male brain had no trouble envisioning the sweet presence just below the surface. The idea of Grayce, hot and wet, was affecting his body, pooling heat in uncomfortable places. If he wasn’t careful, he would soon be panting.

He should retreat to the living room, but his feet remained planted. Grayce was the perfect tonic after today’s shock. She stretched her neck back. The movement lifted her breasts out of the water. His breathing got jagged, coming in bursts.

As if aware of his hungry stare, she opened her eyes and sat up, oblivious of her naked body.

“Davis you scared me.”

His blood flow had left his brain and had headed to his nether regions. “I just got finished.”

“Davis, are you okay?”

“I called your cell phone, but you didn’t answer so…” He gulped. “I came to check on you.”

“I didn’t think you would be done so soon.”

“I thought you might be sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”

His heart hammered against his chest, his breath uneven. He stayed leaning against the door. “You looked so relaxed, I hated to disturb you.”

“I can’t seem to get warm.”

She wanted to get hot? His body core temperature couldn’t get any higher. He struggled for words, trying to act nonchalant, “What’s the smell?

“It’s lavender. It’s supposed to help you relax.”

“I don’t feel relaxed.”

“What happened? Did Niles leave a letter, a message?”

“He hid a memory stick in his prayer book. The pictures and the spreadsheets exonerated me from any connection to the Russians and gave enough proof to nail them for drug smuggling. He did it all to get his son and his family out of Russia.”

“Sounds like the man you knew.”

Davis didn’t want to think about Niles’ decision.

“You look tense.”

She had no idea the effect that her slick glistening body was having on him. He had a lot of pent up emotions that he knew exactly how and with whom he wanted to relieve them. She shifted in the tub, giving him a better view. His control slipped another notch.

“I’ll wait for you in the living room.” He turned back at the door. “Unless you need help getting out?”

A slow knowing smile crossed her lips, “You’ll get all wet.”

“I don’t mind.”

In two steps, he was across the bathroom, swooping down to pull her out of the water. She giggled. Heat radiated from her wet body.

“Grayce, you’re killing me. You’re so hot and slippery…and I’ve needed you ever since you left the station. It’s been a nightmare. When I thought you might have gotten killed by those sleaze…but we’re going to nail those bastards.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Inhaling the sweet scent of lavender, the sweet smell of Grayce, he pressed her wet body against him. “Let me love you.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

Grayce stirred from her sleep. Davis stood at the window. With his back to her, he stared into the dark. His shoulders sagged as if the weight of the last day was too much to carry.

She scooched up and leaned against the headboard. Her shift in weight jostled Napoleon from the foot of the bed. The cat landed on all fours and headed for a more peaceful spot.

Davis turned. His large physique was silhouetted by the dim light from the hallway.

“You’re not able to sleep?”

“I can’t stop thinking about Niles.”

Grayce patted the space next to her. “I’m happy to listen, whatever will help. I’m here.”

He sat at the end of the bed, distancing himself from her. He was hurting and wouldn’t want or accept an easy absolution.

“I’ve tried to put myself in his place. If only he had told me…” Davis said.

“If Niles confided in you that he was hiring ex-firefighters to do the Russian’s criminal work, what could you have done?”

“I meant before those bastards had him trapped. I’ve got friends in the FBI. I could’ve helped to shield him and gotten protection for his son. I just can’t understand why Niles would go out of the system.”