Page 48

My boots hit the floor hard as I stand. I pace my office. I shove a hand through my hair and stop at the window.

Faulty wiring. That’s what the report said. I’ve seen enough of them to know what an electrical fire looks like. And the inspector called it quick. Clean. No sign of accelerant, no suspicious patterns.

I know that girl didn’t start the fire.

So, why the hell are they trying to claim she did?

I rub my sternum, trying to ease the pressure that’s been building there since he pulled out that damn photo.

I need to clear my head.

She said she didn’t have anything. That she didn’t have anywhere else to go. We believed her. Finn did more than believe her, and now Jonah has too. And me? I’ve kept my distance. For good reason.

I’m getting to the bottom of this bullshit once and for all.

I grab my keys, the instinct to protect flaring too hot to ignore. I need answers. But first, I need to make damn sure she hasn't put us in the kind of danger I can’t talk my way out of.

And if she has?

Then we’ve got a much bigger problem.

I come through the front door, my boots loud on the entry floor. I want them to know I’m home. We’re doing this. Right. Fucking. Now.

The living room lights are low. Ani is curled on the edge of the couch with a book open on her lap, but she’s not reading. Her eyes are distant, stuck somewhere far away until the sound of the door snaps her back.

She straightens quickly. I haven’t said a word yet, but she already looks cornered.

“What did I do now, Daddy Boone?”

The words are meant to be light. A joke. She even tries to smile, but it falls flat.

I step further into the room.

“You want to tell me what you’ve brought into my town?”

Her smile falters. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t?”

Her mouth opens, then closes. She swallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“This is about the man who walked into my station asking questions about the fire. This is about your picture being slid across my desk with accusations of arson attached to it.”

She presses her lips together. Her knuckles turn white against the fabric of her pants.

“You want to stay here, near our kid?” I’m fighting to keep the venom out of my voice but failing. “Then I need to know what kind of danger you’re inviting into our lives.”

“I haven’t invited?—”

“Don’t,” I cut in. “Don’t lie. Not now.”

Her chest is rising rapidly now and she won’t meet my eyes.

I take another step forward. “You haven’t given us your last name. Hell, I don’t even know your real first name. You haven’t told us anything at all. And now someone’s showing up asking if we’ve seen the girl who vanished after the fire at that motel.”

Her lips part in a silent breath. I watch her shoulders collapse, shrinking like she wants to disappear. I know that posture. It’s not guilt. It’s fear.

“What did you bring to our door, Ani?”