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Chapter 13

Torched

CHARLIE

I know I’m dreaming, which means in theory I’m safe, but I can’t surface from the nightmare trapping me in its grip. I’m in a parking garage at night, trying to find my truck. I can hear someone behind me but when I turn around there’s no one there, just grey concrete walls, oil-stained parking stalls and a handful of vehicles.

I search and search my bottomless purse for my keys, but I can’t find them. As I walk, the lights flicker on and off. Dread builds up inside choking the breath from me.

“There’s no one here,” I whisper.

But I’m wrong. Catherine Grant is here somewhere.

I know it with every fiber of my being. Maybe if I can find her, I can save her.

Just ahead of me I see my truck, the chrome bumper shining in the flickering light.

I rush to the window, looking inside.

A hand slaps the window and I gasp, jumping back. Then a woman’s face appears. She’s alive! Her dark hair is shiny, her face animated as her lips move, her eyes dart around, her hand claws at her throat.

I step closer, gripping the door handle. “I’ll get you out of there!”

No matter how hard I yank I can’t get the door open.

As I watch, the woman’s face goes from healthy and pink to pale and grey, her vivid blue eyes clouding over. Her hair lays across her skull in lifeless streaks. Her lips are still moving.

Finally, the door handle gives and I’m able to yank it open. This time as Catherine falls, I grab hold of her, helping her to the ground.

She grips my shoulders in claw-like fingers, desperately pulling me to her. I tilt my head to hers so I can hear her desperate whisper.

“They made an example of me.”

“Who?” Our faces are inches apart. Instead of fear, I feel pity. I want to know who did this to her so I can make them pay.

“You know who.”

I finally surface from my dream, grabbing my throat and gasping.

The dream doesn’t startle me nearly as much as my bedroom door being flung open and the room flooded with light.

“What the heck?” I throw a hand up, covering my eyes, squinting through my fingers.

“You shouted.” Lennox’s strained voice tells me who infiltrated my bedroom.

“Jesus, you scared me.” Groping for the lamp, I turn it on. “Shut off the light, for god’s sake.”

He complies and I sigh in relief as my eyes are able to adjust more easily. I focus on Lennox who’s standing at the end of my bed. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you home.”

I shove the blanket off my legs and swing my feet to the floor. “I know you brought me, but what are you still doing here?”

“I wanted to be here in case you needed me when you woke.” He clears his throat and nods toward the door. “I helped Luke with supper and homework.”

“Luke!” I gasp, pushing to my feet and lurching around the side of the bed.

Lennox takes my arms in a light grip that steadies me. “He’s fine. I fed him and helped him to bed. He’s been asleep for hours.”

I stare at him, then take a small step back, forcing him to drop his hands. “Thanks.”

It feels strange thanking him for taking care of my son. I should have been there for Luke, should’ve been the one to talk to him about what happened. But I’m not upset at Lennox for taking over, the same way he took over at the fire station with my colleagues. Maybe because I know his intentions are noble.

“Not always,” he murmurs, lowering his head, touching his lips to my hairline.

The breath catches in my throat as tingles follow the path of his lips.

A shudder goes through him and he grips my shoulders again, this time in a hold that feels unbreakable. It’s not frightening or forceful though.

“I shouldn’t be in here.” His words are at odds with his body language, which is distinctly predatory.

“Then why are you?” I whisper.

“Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m always okay.” My breath brushes his chest hair where it peaks through the open collar of his shirt.

“I’m not.”

I’m surprised by his admission. He always seems so in control, sure of himself in a way only a man of his age can be. “Why aren’t you okay, Lennox?”

He groans, the sound vibrating from his chest and up his throat in a way that sends an answering shiver through me.

Gooseflesh rushes down my arms.

He moves closer until our chests bump. “Say my name again.”

“Lennox.” The sound is throaty, needy, even to my own ears. I’m not embarrassed. I’ve wanted this man from the moment I laid eyes on him.

“I’m not okay because someone targeted you and I don’t know who did it or how to stop them from doing it again. You’re too damn important, Charlie.”

I lick my lips. “Say my name again.”

He grits his teeth, his incisors shining in the lamplight. “Charlotte.”

His unexpected use of my full first name is downright sexy coming from him. “Why do you think I’m important?”

“You… just are.” His fingers flex, clenching in the flesh of my arms. “You and I are working together for a reason, trying to solve a murder, trying to break up a crime ring. You distract me in a way I’ve never experienced before. I’m a slave to that distraction, but a willing captive if it means I get to be near you.”

An involuntary sigh leaves my lips. That was probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.

“More romantic than your husband?”

His words have the effect of a bucket of ice water being thrown in my face. I wrench myself away from him. I’m about to erupt when he holds a hand up.

“I’m sorry, that was unconscionable. Stupid. I’m jealous of a dead man, but it’s no excuse.”

His tormented tone stops me from verbally eviscerating him, but he doesn’t get away with insulting Ramón free of charge. “It was cruel,” I snap, pointing at the door. “I want you to leave.”

“I’ll get my things.” He sounds contrite, but with a hard edge of frustration. It’s at himself though, not me.

“I didn’t say leave the apartment, I meant leave my bedroom. You have no right to be in here unless you’ve been invited. I appreciate what you’ve done for me and Luke, and I’d like you to spend the rest of the night on the couch.” I pin him with my gaze so he knows I’m serious. “If you ever speak of my dead husband again, it will be in glowing terms or you will be uninvited from sharing any part of my life. You understand?”

He stares back at me, then nods curtly. “It won’t happen again.”

He leaves, closing the door softly behind him.

As I take my clothes off, preparing for bed, it hits me. That was at least the third time he responded to something I was thinking. Something I didn’t say out loud.

LENNOX

I fold the blanket Luke gave me the evening before and put it in the hall closet along with my borrowed pillow. I didn’t sleep much having spent the first half of the night listening for Charlie to wake, then the other half castigating myself over my conduct once she did wake up. I was supposed to be her hero, supposed to soothe the monsters that come in the night. Instead, I let my jealousy show.

Luke is getting ready for school in his room and Charlie is in the shower. After she finishes, we’ll head to the morgue to view the body we suspect is Catherine Grant. Once we confirm she was murdered, I’ll ask my Captain for permission to take lead on the case.

A knock on the apartment door has me reaching for my gun, but Charlie shouts from the bathroom, “Someone let Maria in!”

Maria. Charlie’s older sister. Mother to three of the monsters we previously drove to school. It must be her day to pick up the kids.

When I open the door, a woman about Charlie’s height is turned facing away from me, shouting down the stairwell, “I swear to god if you don’t get back in the van right now, I’ll…” Her gaze catches on me and her sentence trails off. She’s heavily made up with eyeliner, blue eyeshadow and deep red lipstick, and she’s wearing a jean skirt, yellow crop top and lemon-coloured cowboy boots.

“What’re you gonna do, ma?” A child taunts, his voice echoing up the stairs.

“I’m gonna feed yooz to the sewer rats!” She straightens away from the railing and looks me up and down. “So you’re the new partner my sister has a crush on.” She winks and sashays toward me, giving me her hand.

“Crush?” I squeeze it and let go quickly.

She moves past me into the apartment, her eyes searching. I’m glad I put the blanket and pillow away. If I had to guess, I’d say this one is the family gossip.

“Well, she didn’t say that exactly, but she did say you’re handsome.” Her gaze sweeps me as she ticks off my attributes on her fingers. “Gentlemanly, intelligent, decent, and kind of a feminist in a bumbling way, and in Charlie’s world she don’t say nice things like that about people unless she really likes them. Ya know what I mean?”

It occurs to me I can take advantage of this somewhat uncomfortable situation. “Was she complimentary toward her husband?”

“Ramón?” Maria laughs, waving her hand. “No, not at first. Charlie wanted to be taken seriously as a firefighter and not all the guys at the firehouse did. She’s not very big and lots of ‘em figured she couldn’t hack it. Proved ‘em all wrong though.” She smiles her pride in her sister. “She thought Ramón was like all the rest when he flirted with her and tried to get her to go out with him. But he wasn’t like those other jerks, he treated her like she was equal and it’s what finally caught her attention.” Maria’s gaze softens and she sighs like she’s telling the greatest love story of all time. “It wasn’t until after she fell in love with him that he could do no wrong in her eyes.”

I realize what she’s saying and our gazes meet, hers serious now.

“She compliments after she falls in love.” Maria steps closer to me, her voice dropping. “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, and that’s a problem. Whatever this thing is between you two, it’s happening fast. Charlie don’t give the time of day to men who aren’t loved and accepted by her family, so why are you different?” I don’t give her an answer and she doesn’t wait for one. “As far as I know you haven’t even asked her out on a proper date yet.”

“I haven’t,” I admit. “It’s complicated.”

She presses her lips together in a way I’m starting to realize is a Lopez family trait. “Let me uncomplicate it for you.” At my curt nod, she continues, “That woman in there?” She points at the bathroom door. “When she loves, she does it with her whole uncomplicated heart. Any man who hurts that heart will answer to me and the rest of the family. You may be law enforcement, but I have connections too. I can make a guy disappear if I want. Capiche?”

I nod, admiring the fire in the small Latina woman. She’s like if Charlie was made of firecrackers and lemon cake. I take her hand, lifting it to my heart. “I swear on my mother’s grave, I will not harm your sister.”

She sighs and flexes her fingers against my pectoral muscle. “You’re certainly a charmer. I’ll give you that.” She pulls her hand away and calls down the hall, “C’mon, Luke, your cousins are waiting!”

After they leave, Charlie emerges wearing a man’s white dress shirt tucked into tight blue jeans with a thick leather belt, and combat boots. Her shoulder-length hair curls around her head, her vivid blue bangs swept to the side of her face. She’s so beautiful she takes my breath away.

As she’s tossing things into her purse, I say, “Have dinner with me?”

“Sure,” she says, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “When?”

I’m taken aback by her nonchalance. “Uh, tonight. You know I mean it like a date, right?”

She looks at me. “Yeah, I know.”

“I just thought…”

“That I’d be more surprised?”

Yes, that’s what I thought.

“My sister’s voice carries and the walls here are paper thin. I heard most of what she said.” She snickers. “It was funny listening to a woman a third your size threatening to disappear you.”

“Glad one of us was amused.”

“She’s harmless,” Charlie says. “Her mob connection consists of knowing an extra who was on three episodes of the Sopranos. Let’s go. I want my truck back and I want to know if our body’s been ID’ed yet.”

The frightened Charlie of yesterday is gone, replaced by Charlie-in-charge. I can’t help but admire the pep in her step as we make our way down to the cab.

My pleasant mood disappears though as we hit two dead ends in a row. At the police precinct we’re told Charlie’s truck is still being processed by the CSI unit and won’t be done for another 24 hours.

We’re given similarly bad news at the morgue by a familiar face.

“She was cremated an hour ago,” Edie confirms after I storm into her office, having been told she was in charge of the body.

“How is that possible?” Charlie asks incredulously. “She hadn’t even been identified yet.”

“She was identified by prints shortly after arrival yesterday as a Catherine Grant.”

“You knew I was looking for a Catherine Grant connected to my case.” I’m incredulous that the usually impeccable pathologist could make such a mistake.

Charlie inhales sharply at the news while Edie continues, “Her father made the formal identification last night. I confirmed cause of death was a self-inflicted drug overdose, removing any suspicion of murder. Her family asked that she be cremated and we followed through on their request.” Her eyes pin me. “I can’t be expected to remember every case you’re working on, Lennox. Protocol was followed. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“What about the marks on her throat?” I demand, tamping down in my fury.

Edie frowns, her gaze turning glacial. “Now you’re trying to do my job? The mottling at her neck occurred post-mortem as the blood settled in her body.”

I step closer to her desk, my fists clenching. “What are you playing at? Catherine Grant was part of an investigation. Her body shouldn’t have been cremated.”

Her eyebrows lift. “I was given no formal order to keep her body in my lab.”

It’s happened before. A file mix-up or a careless paramedic forgetting to pass along necessary information, but this feels different. Even if there had been a mistake, bodies simply aren’t processed through the system as quickly as Catherine’s was.

“I’m sorry for the mix-up,” Edie says, her tone hard. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I try to look past the brittleness of her stare, allowing my wolf to see into her soul. Perhaps it really was a mix-up and she has nothing to do with it, but I don’t think so.

“We don’t need anything else.” I turn away, my hand going to Charlie’s elbow. “Let’s go.”

As we walk out of the building, Charlie says, “I know you guys are friends, but – .”

“She’s hiding something,” I finish for her.

Charlie stops me, her hand on my arm. “What haven’t you told me about your relationship with Edie?”

I urge her to keep moving, instinctively wanting to get her further away from Edie. “I’ll tell you over dinner.”