Justice Burning (Hellfire #2) (4 page)

“Good.” Just a few more minutes and he could wash his hands of the runaway bride. Nash tipped his cowboy hat at the older woman. He turned in the driver’s seat, and tilted his head toward the rear of the vehicle where Phoebe sat. “Do you want to ride in the back, or take your own vehicle?”

“Any other time, I’d die for a chance to ride in the backseat of your squad car.” She winked at Nash. “I have to get back fairly quickly. I’m expecting a delivery at any time. But I’ll take a rain check if you promise to use the handcuffs.”

Nash shook his head. “Lola, you know I can’t play with the cuffs. They’re for real police business.”

Lola pouted. “I could pretend to be a lady of the evening, and you could arrest me for soliciting.” She plumped her ample breasts, the girls nearly spilling out of her tight sweater and the bra that could barely contain them. “I’ll even let you frisk me.”

Nash tried not to smile and thus encourage the woman’s naughty behavior. “As tempting as that sounds, I have to decline. Besides, I thought you liked fire fighters better.”

“Oh, I do. They are so very…hot.” She fanned her cheek with her hand. “But lawmen are a close second.”

Phoebe’s gaze shot from Lola to Nash and back during the entire exchange.

Nash sighed. The bride would wonder what she was getting into with Hellfire’s infamous Lola. The middle-aged woman loved to flirt. Since her husband passed away and left her with a comfortable insurance stipend, she enjoyed playing the field and hitting on all the single young men and some of the older men in town. Sometimes she was annoying, but mostly she was harmless. Just lonely.

Nash drove the few short blocks, parked in front of Lola’s house, got out and opened the door for Phoebe.

Phoebe climbed out, and stared at the pretty charcoal-gray craftsman-style cottage with a detached garage set back at the end of a long driveway.

Lola zoomed up the street in a bright orange Corvette, skidding to a stop in the driveway. She jumped out and held out a key. “What do you think of the place?”

“I love your house,” Phoebe said.

“I kind of like it too.” Lola smiled. “Come on. You might not like the apartment as much. I haven’t been in it since Christmas. I’m not sure how big a mess it is.”

“I can handle it,” Phoebe said, determined to make it work. With no other option presenting itself and no money to live on, she had to take what she could get.

“If you want to work for me as a housekeeper, I could use help once a week. The shop keeps me pretty busy.”

Nash cleared his throat. “If you are comfortable with Miss Lola, I’m off duty and need to check in at the station.”

Phoebe drew her bottom lip between her teeth and stared up into his eyes. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done. I hope I can repay your kindness some day.”

He tipped his cowboy hat, suddenly reluctant to leave her, but he didn’t have a reason to stay. “Not necessary. It’s part of my job.” Nodding to Lola, he gave her a brief smile. “Let me know if you two need anything. You know how to get a hold of me.”

With that, he turned and hurried away. Yes, he wanted to stay and make sure Phoebe was settled into the garage apartment, but she wasn’t his responsibility and the more he was around her, the more he wanted to stay with her. Not good. Not good at all.

He wasn’t in the market for a girlfriend and though she said she wasn’t going back to where she came from, there wasn’t much in Hellfire to keep her here. He was better off walking away.

Almost to the SUV, he reached for the door handle when footsteps crunched on the gravel and a soft voice stopped him.

“Deputy Grayson?”

He turned to stare down into those soft green eyes, his pulse ratcheting up. “Yes, Miss Smith?”

“Thank you.” She touched his arm. “And no matter what happens, I promise I’m not a bad person.” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Then she turned and ran back to where Lola stood, a grin stretching the older woman’s dark lipstick-covered mouth.

Warmth rushed through Nash and tingling spread from where Phoebe’s lips had touched his cheek. He raised a hand to the spot and stared at the woman, a frown pulling his brows downward.

He hadn’t begun the day with the intent of finding a runaway bride stranded on the side of the road. Scenarios like that were only found in those unrealistic romance novels women liked reading. No. He hadn’t asked for a kiss. But now that she’d done it, she couldn’t undo it, and he couldn’t unfeel it.

Nash gave a curt nod, turned and fought to keep from leaping into his SUV, though he knew running away wouldn’t get him away from the haunting look of the pretty redhead with the eyes the color of the soft green moss.

In the few short hours he’d known Phoebe Smith, she’d crawled beneath his defenses.

Damn.

So distracted by the kiss he couldn’t think straight, Nash pulled out of Lola’s drive without looking and almost backed into a black four-door sedan that had slowed on the street in front of Lola’s house. When Nash finally glanced in the rearview mirror, he slammed his foot on the brake, stopping the big SUV mere inches from the sedan.

The driver must have been shaken by the near-miss, because he goosed his accelerator and peeled off a layer of his tires on the hot Texas pavement, screaming away from Nash’s vehicle.

Nash slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “Damn!” How could he be so careless? He gave himself a firm shake, looked both ways, with one last glance at the two women staring from halfway down the driveway and pulled into the empty street. Phoebe Smith was a distraction he could not afford. Not now. Or ever. He’d been down that twisted path before and it only led to heartbreak.

W
hen Deputy Grayson
pulled out of the driveway, Phoebe’s heart clenched in her chest. He’d been the rock in her extremely turbulent day. Though he didn’t know half of what she’d gone through, and had yet to deal with, he’d seen that she got the proper clothing and shoes, met a woman who could put her up in her own apartment and he’d even doctored her cut toe.

Maybe she was putting him up on a white horse, with the halo-effect of a knight in shining armor, but she had been so grateful for the help when she’d needed it most. Unfortunately, the one person who’d helped her most would also be the one who’d ultimately arrest her and charge her with murder once his brother opened the trunk of the rental car and discovered the body of her fiancé.

What had made her run after the deputy, she didn’t know. But as he’d walked away, Phoebe couldn’t let him go without telling him what his actions meant to her. And the kiss…

It was only a kiss on the cheek. Nothing more than a woman would give a father or brother. Though the feelings she’d had when Grayson had held her in his arms were anything but sisterly.

When he’d nearly backed into the dark sedan, Phoebe stifled a scream. She let go of the breath caught in her throat when the sedan sped away and the deputy pulled out of the drive. Pressing a hand to her chest in a useless attempt to slow her thundering pulse, she sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly.

“Nash is quite the heartthrob, isn’t he?” a voice said beside her.

Phoebe turned to face Lola, shocked she’d forgotten the woman was even there. “I’m sorry?”

“Nash.” Lola nodded toward the disappearing SUV. “Deputy Grayson.” She grinned. “His first name is Nash. He’s one of the four Grayson brothers. Every last one of them is tall, dark and so handsome they’ll make your panties damp.”

Heat rose in Phoebe’s cheeks at Lola’s words, and her belly clenched. She’d met two of the four and knew at least half of the truth of what Lola was saying. “There are four of them?”

Lola nodded, her gaze also following the sheriff deputy’s vehicle. “I’d give my left breast to be twenty years younger.” She sighed. “But I always say, I might be weathered, but this old hearth still has a scorching flame burning inside.” With a shrug, she sighed. “And it doesn’t hurt to flirt.” With a wink, she turned toward the garage apartment. “If you don’t like the place, I can put you up in my spare bedroom until you find something you like better.”

“I’ll just be happy to have a roof over my head.” And as soon as she could find Rider Grayson’s auto repair shop, she’d do something about getting rid of the body in the trunk of the rental car.

Lola led the way up the stairs and unlocked the door of the garage apartment. Inside were stacks of cardboard boxes, plastic containers and strands of colored lights. “When my husband was alive, we rented out the apartment. After he passed and our tenant moved out, I didn’t want to fool with it.”

Phoebe turned to Lola, her heart constricting. “Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Lola gave her a gentle smile with her bright red lips. The brightness of her gaze dimmed a little. “It’s been five years, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. He was my everything—my soulmate. But he made me promise that if anything happened to him, I shouldn’t stop loving life and I should get on with living. Maybe find me another man to fill my days and heart.” She snorted. “I haven’t found one who gets me like George did.” She winked. “But I’m trying. I’ve had my sights set on the Grayson boys.”

Phoebe’s chest pinched and she frowned. She didn’t have any hold over Nash Grayson. But the thought of any other woman with him made her fingers curl into fists. She glanced down at her bunched hands, perplexed. She’d never felt that way about Ryan. Nor had she felt like Lola felt about her dead husband. Ryan had been a man her father and mother had chosen for her.

Being the dutiful daughter, whose peers had all landed successful matches, Phoebe had let the wave of her familial obligations sweep her along. And where had that gotten her? In a relationship she regretted and now facing a potential murder rap. She really needed to get to the auto repair shop as soon as possible.

Lola led the way into the apartment chatting all the way.

Phoebe followed, barely hearing a word the woman said until she stepped through the door.

“The nice thing about living here is that you’re only a couple blocks from the sheriff’s office and fire station.” Lola’s lips curled into a secretive smile. “And you know what that means.”

Phoebe came back to the present with a frown. “No. What does that mean?” Other than it wouldn’t take long for a deputy to get there once they found the body in the trunk of the rental car. A cool chill rippled across her skin.

“The fire fighters arrive in less than three minutes, if you have an emergency.”

“You know this because…?” Phoebe queried.

Lola glanced toward the sky. “You could say I’ve had an emergency or two.” She spun to face Phoebe. “They’re like clockwork. Three minutes on the dot.” With a quick glance around, she grimaced. “It is a mess, but the bed is somewhere in the corner and a small balcony juts off the back if you get claustrophobic. I think the former owners had the apartment made up for their grown son as a weaning off option before he got a place of his own. When it’s not full of junk, the space is kind of cozy. You have your own kitchenette and small refrigerator, if you can find them.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Phoebe tried not to think of the cobwebs hanging from the rafters. And, really, how hard could it be to knock down a few spider webs or clean up a little dust? Lots of people did it. Phoebe shivered. As the daughter of a very wealthy man, she’d never had to clean her own room. Even in college, her father had hired a maid to clean her apartment.

Straightening her shoulders, she told herself it would be an adventure, a chance to learn and grow as a person free of her parents’ expectations. She could do this.

“As for the boxes, I suppose you could move them to the garage. I’d help, but I have a ton of new inventory I’m sorting through at the shop. I need to get it on the shelves as soon as possible.”

“Oh.” Phoebe turned to Lola. “Do you need help? I can deal with this at another time.”

Lola patted Phoebe’s arm. “You need to stay here and find the bed. I’m sure that it’ll take a little time pulling off the dustcovers. Open the windows and let in some sunlight and fresh air. I’ll bring up fresh sheets before I head back to the shop.”

Lola left her standing among the stacks of boxes, all of her worldly goods crammed into a couple of plastic bags and the pathetic twenty-five dollars wadded in her jeans pocket. The task of moving, sorting and cleaning seemed overwhelming. After all the other things she’d been through that day, cleaning was a minor inconvenience. She could stand there feeling sorry for herself, or get to work and make some sense out of her life.

She changed into a slightly faded T-shirt from her bag of clothes and went to work moving boxes from the apartment down to the garage. By the time she’d made her way through fifteen of them, she was cursing her personal trainer for insisting on spin class instead of the stair climber. Her hamstrings were screaming, and her back hurt like it never hurt before. The kicker was that she considered herself in fairly good shape. If she ever went back to that gym in Fort Worth, she’d be sure to ask for a refund of her father’s money.

All the while Phoebe worked, she waited for the shoe to drop and Ryan’s body to be discovered. Every time she heard a siren, she tensed and waited for the wailing to swing her way and stop in the gravel driveway of Lola’s house.

Good to her word, Lola had delivered a set of clean sheets, towels and a couple sampler bottles of shampoo and body wash that looked like the kind hotels offered their guests. By the time the sun dropped below the horizon, Phoebe was hot, sweaty, and physically and mentally exhausted.

She had a pretty good path through to the kitchenette and could squeeze past old furniture she couldn’t lift to get to the tiny bathroom and shower. Though the window air conditioner worked, the old unit had struggled to cool the small apartment in the heat of the Texas summer afternoon.

Too tired to care how small the shower stall was, Phoebe stripped out of the dirty clothing and stepped beneath the spray, shocked by the chill of the water. Apparently, the water heater wasn’t working or hadn’t been turned on. But after a moment or two, the cold water felt great against her sweat-soaked skin.

Once she stepped out of the shower, she almost felt human. Dressed in a clean pair of jeans, a dark blouse and a pair of gently worn running shoes, she exited the apartment, so hungry she couldn’t think straight. First, she’d find food and then the auto repair shop where the rental car had been taken. If she was lucky, Rider hadn’t searched the trunk for a spare. If she was even luckier, the tire would be magically intact and inflated. She’d be able to drive the rental car away to dispose of Ryan’s body or ditch the car somewhere and walk back to her new life in Hellfire.

A cold sense of dread chilled her in the early evening gloom. How had Ryan ended up in that trunk? He hadn’t fallen in and suffered a heart attack. The man had been fit, active and too young for clogged arteries. Which indicated someone had offed him and shoved him into the trunk.

Guilt tore at Phoebe. She was upset at her fiancé’s demise. But not heartbroken. Sure, she felt awful that he was dead. But her sense of relief that she didn’t have to marry him was just as strong. Still, she hadn’t wished him dead. Just unavailable to marry her. God, was she becoming a cold-hearted bitch like her mother could be? Leaving that world behind had been the best decision she could have made. But with no money, no identification and no prospects of a job, she was navigating uncharted waters and afraid she would be swept under.

She walked two blocks to Main Street, passing by quaint little mom-and-pop stores, finally coming across Bob’s Diner. The undeniable scent of food wafting out of the establishment almost brought Phoebe to her knees. With the last bit of her waning strength, she pushed open the door and entered, her mouthwatering.

“Sit where you like,” a female voice called out.

Phoebe glanced around at the black-and-white checkered floor, shiny red booth seats and chrome bar and managed to stagger to an empty booth in the far right corner. She reached for the laminated menu wedged between the napkin holder and the salt and pepper shakers and stared at the array of potential entrees, her stomach aching with the need for nourishment.

“Honey, what can I getcha?” A middle-aged waitress, dressed in a fifties-style, pink skirt and top, bobby socks, saddle shoes and a ribbon holding her hair back, stopped next to her table. “The meatloaf is fresh out of the oven and one of Bob’s best.”

“Sounds wonderful.” With only twenty-five dollars to last until she landed a job, she had to be sparing with her money, something completely new to her lifestyle. “But I’d rather have the grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of tap water.” She set the menu back where she’d found it and smiled up at the waitress. If she was very careful, she might make the little bit of money last until the end of the week, at which time she’d better have a plan in place to get more, or she’d starve.

“Are you the young woman who moved into Lola’s garage?”

Her cheeks heating, Phoebe nodded.

“Word gets around in small towns.” The waitress grinned, wiped her hand on the white apron covering her pink skirt and held it out. “Judy Johnson.”

Phoebe took the other woman’s hand. “Phoebe Smith. Nice to meet you.”

“Let me know if you need anything. Most everyone knows everyone else, and we help each other out. ‘Specially when they’re down and out.”

Phoebe couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. She’d never had to worry about money, and she’d never had to ask for help. She glanced around the diner. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who might be hiring, would you? I need a job.”

“What kind of experience do you have?” Judy asked.

Experience? Hell, she’d never held a job. With a degree in home economics, she wasn’t sure how her coursework would translate to anything there in Hellfire. She shook her head. “I don’t have any experience.”

The waitress frowned and touched her chin. “I’d say apply here, but Bob’s got all the wait staff he needs.” She tilted her head and stared at the far left corner of the building, tapping her chin. Finally, she straightened, her eyes widening. “How about the Ugly Stick Saloon?”

“Ugly Stick Saloon?” What kind of place had a name like that?

“Sure! Audrey Anderson owns it. Only thing is it’s out on the county line. You got a car?”

Phoebe almost answered yes, until she remembered the car she had was a rental she didn’t own, and a dead man occupied the trunk. Her shoulders slumped, along with her hopes. “No.”

Judy tapped the end of her pen to her chin. “Hmm. There’s always the chance one of the other waitresses could give you a ride if your shifts match.” She wrote a number on her order pad and ripped off a page. “Here’s her phone number. It’s worth giving her a call. Audrey always needs waitresses and the tips are good. A lot better than here.” She winked. “I’d work there myself, but I’m getting too old for the late nights.”

Phoebe folded the paper and slipped it into her jeans pocket. She’d give this Audrey person a call when she found a phone she could use for free.

Judy had turned and walked a few steps when she spun back around. “In case you don’t have a phone, you can use the one on the counter.” She walked away, pointing at the phone as she passed it on her way to the kitchen with Phoebe’s order.

The waitress’s smile was so warm and friendly Phoebe’s throat thickened and her eyes stung.

So far, the people she’d met in Hellfire had bent over backward to help her. Would they be as open and friendly if they knew what was in the trunk of the rental car?

Phoebe pushed back her shoulders and stood. She’d just have to make sure they didn’t find out. And if she could get a job at the Ugly Stick Saloon, she might not have to get in touch with her father to have him or her mother send her wallet with her identification. She could request it from the DMV and avoid letting her family know where she was until she was good and ready to reveal her location. Hopefully, after she proved she could live on her own, without her father’s money or connections.