Page 14 of Forged By Fire (Danger in Destiny #9)

Chapter Fourteen

C lint did his best to keep a straight face as he carried the bags of food in behind the adorable little girl. Her declaration clearly embarrassed her aunt because poor Leslie’s face was bright red. He didn’t want her to feel self-conscious, but goodness, she was gorgeous when she blushed.

He remembered rolling his eyes and groaning when his dad said a man should always find new ways to make his bride blush. Dad certainly took that to heart, and Mom never seemed to mind.

Clint never understood that—until now. He wouldn’t mind seeing Leslie blush on a regular basis.

Intentionally shoving such ridiculous thoughts from his head, he set the bags down on the oval-shaped table in the dining room and turned to greet Cindy properly with a handshake. “Hey, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Even Cindy’s cheeks were pink. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a talk with her later.” She glared at her oldest daughter, who had no clue she’d done anything wrong .

Instead, she climbed into one of the chairs and bounced up and down on her knees in anticipation. “Mama said you were bringing fried chicken. I love fried chicken.”

Cindy set Bree down. The little girl took one look at Clint and ran to Leslie, who happily picked her up.

“I do too, pumpkin.” Cindy affectionately tugged on her daughter’s little ponytail. “Why don’t you help me by getting some napkins and putting five of them on the table?”

“Okay.” Izzy hopped back down again and bounced over to the counter.

Clint chuckled. “She’s got a lot of energy.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Leslie lifted the younger girl in her arms. “So does this one, but she’s a little shy when she first meets new people.

She’s also on the tail end of an ear infection, so that slows her down a little.

” She patted her niece’s back. “Come on, honey, let’s get you set up in your highchair. ”

It was momentarily chaotic, but soon they were all sitting around the table. Clint found himself between Leslie and Izzy.

Cindy started to pray over their food, and immediately, Izzy rested her little hand in his palm. A glance around the table told him that it was customary for the family to hold hands during prayer. He reached for Leslie’s and held it loosely in his hand.

When the prayer ended, she withdrew her hand, and they focused on fixing their plates. Everyone enjoyed the meal, and even little Bree asked for a second spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy.

“That’s my favorite part, too,” he told her with a wink.

It’d taken most of the meal, but she finally stopped avoiding his gaze and gave him a big grin. White gravy rimmed her lips .

She was a cute little thing and looked just like her mom. Izzy, on the other hand, looked nothing like them. He had to assume she must take after her father. A man who, from what Leslie had mentioned and the little comments the girls made, must not make it home for dinner very often.

Leslie and Cindy managed dinner and getting the girls cleaned up like a well-oiled machine. While they did that, Clint cleared the table, took the trash out, and washed the few dishes they’d used.

He was just placing the last plate in the dish drainer when Cindy walked in. She hitched an eyebrow. “A man in uniform, and he knows how to do the dishes. It’s a wonder you’re still single, especially here in Destiny.”

“Cindy! Really?” Leslie entered the kitchen then and gave her sister a withering look.

Cindy only shrugged and left the room, saying she needed to check on the girls.

Leslie’s gaze shifted to him. The adorable blush was back. “You’ll have to excuse my sister. Sometimes she doesn’t know when to hold her tongue.”

“I don’t mind. She’s nice. So are your nieces. I’m glad I had the chance to meet them.” He folded a towel lengthwise and draped it over the top of the cabinet door below the sink. “It looks like you guys are pretty close.”

“We are more now than we used to be.” Leslie lowered her voice.

“We haven’t always gotten along. Sometimes we still don’t.

But once the girls were born and Peter was gone all the time…

Well, I guess we figured out how to work around that.

Necessity and all.” She pointed to the clock on the microwave.

“It’s after seven. We should go so Cindy can get the girls ready for bed. ”

“Yeah. Of course.”

They found the trio in the living room where Izzy was busy building with oversized Lego bricks and Cindy was rocking Bree.

“I think we’re going to head out,” Leslie announced. “Thanks for letting us stop by.”

Cindy reached one arm up and gave her a hug as Leslie leaned down. “Thank you for bringing dinner. It was delicious.”

Izzy skipped over and gave Clint a hug. “You are my auntie’s boyfriend, right?”

Cindy and Leslie both audibly sighed. Leslie knelt to her niece’s level.

“Honey, Officer Clint is my friend. And now he’s your friend, too.”

Izzy’s eyes narrowed as though she were trying to figure something out. “And he’s a boy. So he’s your boyfriend.”

“Hard to argue with that logic,” Clint muttered under his breath. It was all he could do not to laugh.

The sun had gone down by the time they left Cindy’s house. They’d barely gotten to the car when Detective Paris sent a message saying Dr. Gerard was on his way to the station to consult with them about Ortiz and kleptomania. They were buckled up and headed straight over.

Clint glanced over at Leslie in the passenger seat. He could see her profile against the light coming in from outside.

“Izzy is a hoot.”

“She’s something, all right.” Humor laced Leslie’s voice. “She gives Cindy a run for her money. What about your brother? Does he have a family?”

“Drew. Yeah, he and Emma have been married for five years now. No kids, though. There have been several miscarriages. I think they’re considering adoption, although I don’t think they’ve begun the process yet.”

“I’m sorry to hear about their losses. I can only imagine how heartbreaking that must be.”

“Thank you.” The last miscarriage earlier in the year had happened in the second trimester. It’d been devastating. Clint hated seeing his brother and sister-in-law hurting so deeply.

Even through it all, their relationship had remained strong. It reminded Clint of the one their parents had. That kind of connection was what Clint desperately wanted to experience himself. To find someone he could share his life with, no matter what the world threw their way.

The problem was, even though he’d been on his fair share of dates over the years, he’d never met the one woman who both challenged and intrigued him—someone he could imagine growing old with.

Until now.

He wasn’t na?ve. He didn’t know Leslie well enough to be in love with her. But he’d seen enough about her character and the way she tackled challenges in life to want to get to know her better.

The parking lot in front of the precinct was nearly empty as they parked and walked in. While Clint didn’t particularly enjoy working late, it was usually easier to get work done when the bullpen wasn’t as busy.

Clint escorted Leslie through part of the building and intercepted Detective Paris just outside the breakroom.

“You have perfect timing. Dr. Gerard just got here.” He gave Leslie a welcoming smile. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait outside. This shouldn’t take long.”

“I understand. No worries. ”

Paris gave a satisfied nod and pointed to Clint. “Meet us in conference room three.”

“Will do.” He showed Leslie to the break room, where there was a small table for her to sit at while she waited.

He immediately went to one of the vending machines, put two dollars in, and hit the buttons for M&Ms. When the candy dropped down, he retrieved it and set it on the table in front of her.

“Do you want something to drink? I can grab you a soda, too.”

She looked up at him, her smile bright. “I’m good. Thank you for the candy. I’ll just munch on that and read a book I’ve got on my phone. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” He rested his hand on her shoulder, his thumb just grazing her neck. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

In the conference room, he claimed one of the chairs across from where Dr. Gerard and Paris were seated.

The first time he’d met the psychologist, he’d expected an older gentleman with wild hair and eyebrows.

Something akin to Dr. Brown from the movie Back to the Future.

Instead, Gerard was a man in his early forties whose thick, close-cut hair didn’t show a hint of gray.

Clint never would’ve guessed his profession if he’d run into him somewhere else.

Dr. Gerard folded his hands and rested them on the table. “I looked through everything you have on Domingo Ortiz, which wasn’t a lot. As you know, it would take a warrant to gain access to the files concerning his stay at the rehabilitation facility.”

“And since we have no solid proof that Ortiz stole the equipment or is involved in any of this, a warrant isn’t in the immediate future.

” Paris nodded to Gerard. “I understand you may not be able to give us any insight into Ortiz specifically. But what can you tell us about individuals who struggle with kleptomania in general?”

Gerard took a drink from a water bottle near his elbow.

“Kleptomania is a serious mental health disorder. Typically, individuals who suffer from this disorder have a powerful urge to steal items that they don’t really need.

The more they resist the urge to steal, the more tension and anxiety they may feel leading up to the theft.

While stealing, or immediately afterward, they experience relief or satisfaction—an adrenaline rush similar to being high.

Once that rush fades, they feel terrible guilt, self-loathing, shame, and fear of arrest.”

That seemed to track with a lot of what Chief Caradec told them. “Ortiz’s boss at the station where he worked said that Ortiz either gave away or trashed most of the items he’d stolen. Is that typical behavior?”

“Absolutely.” Dr. Gerard leaned back in his chair.

“When an individual with kleptomania steals something, it’s not because they need or want that item.

It’s the act of stealing and the temporary relief it provides that drives them.

Most of the time, they stash the stolen items away, gift them to family or friends, throw them in the trash, or even secretly return them because the guilt they feel is overwhelming. ”

Clint thought back over their conversation with Caradec. “I guess they finally figured out what Ortiz was doing when he tried to steal a set of turnout gear. He was attempting to pass it off to someone waiting for him outside when he was caught.”

“Now that’s interesting.” Gerard leaned forward, his brows drawn together in thought. “With someone who has kleptomania, stealing is often spontaneous and almost never done with the help of someone else. That specific behavior doesn’t track with everything else I’m hearing about Ortiz.”

Paris looked encouraged by that bit of news. “Is it possible he was coerced into stealing the turnout gear? Maybe someone knew he was stealing and took advantage of the situation?”

“That’s certainly possible. It also could be that he faked having kleptomania to cover what he’d really wanted to steal.” Gerard shrugged. “It’s impossible to know with the information we’ve been given. However, I’d be lying if I said it sounded like a cut-and-dried case of kleptomania.”

They needed to hear what Ortiz had to say about the attempted theft of the gear. If the man either faked his diagnosis or was working with someone else, then that changed everything.

“I’ll have him brought in for questioning tomorrow.” Paris pointed at Clint. “I’ll let you know when so you can be here.”

“I appreciate that.”

Paris reached over and shook Gerard’s hand. “Thank you for taking the time to come speak with us. The information was invaluable.”

“I’m happy to. I can come back when you question Ortiz if you’d like. If there’s anything else I can do, please let me know.”

Paris’s cell phone rang. He waved goodbye to Dr. Gerard as he swiped to answer the call. “This is Detective Paris. That’s great. We’ll be there. Have a good night.”

“Good news?” They could certainly use some.

“That was Fire Chief Menendez. Would you please ask Miss Granger to join us?”

“Absolutely.” Clint took out the folder Menendez had given him.

He handed it to Paris. “Speaking of the chief, he gave this to me earlier. He’d compiled a list of call-outs that involved a death or ended with the identification of an arsonist. Anything that might have given someone a reason to dislike the fire department. ”

Paris accepted the folder with a nod. “I appreciate it. I’ll start going through this first thing tomorrow.”

Clint found Leslie sitting at the table in the breakroom, an empty M&M package at her elbow.

She looked up from her phone. “That didn’t take long.”

“Dr. Gerard just left. Detective Paris got a call and wanted to speak with both of us.”

“Of course.” She tossed the candy wrapper into the trash and followed him back to the conference room.

“Ah, Miss Granger. Thank you for joining us.” Paris sat on the edge of the conference table.

“I received a call from Chief Menendez. It seems we’ve been cleared to go back into the warehouse and conduct a thorough search of the undamaged part of the building.

It’s my hope that we’ll find some evidence that will tell us what happened to the shooter.

If you feel up to it, I’d like you to be there, too.

Your insight into where the shooting happened and what direction the suspect went would be a huge help. ”

Clint resisted the urge to reach over and place a hand against Leslie’s back and offer his support. It wouldn’t be easy for her to go back into the warehouse. But if she was nervous, she didn’t let on. Instead, she straightened her spine and gave a definitive nod.

“I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

“Excellent. In that case, I’ll see you both at the warehouse at 9 a.m.”