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Their call with the real Jed Flowers confirmed it. Eddie Smith was the suspect.

“Smith didn’t tell you where he was going during his time off?” Presley questioned Flowers.

“He mentioned a beach. I assumed it was one in California or Florida, maybe Hawaii. Not Minnesota.”

She ignored his derogatory tone. “Has he been acting strange lately?”

Flowers chuffed a laugh. “What do you mean by lately? The guy has always been an odd duck.”

“Has he talked to you about his father?”

“About him being fired from his job as police captain? Oh, yeah. All the time. Come to think of it, he has been more volatile since it happened. He swears his father was set up by a woman.”

Hello, she was that woman, but it wasn’t a set-up. “When is he scheduled to return home?”

“Not for another three or four days.”

“If you hear from him, please contact Detective Reggie Branch at the Serenity Shores Police Department.” She gave him Reggie’s number.

Flowers sighed. “What did Eddie do?”

“He’s the suspect in several suspicious fires, all that included fatalities.”

“Oh, hell no. Eddie? I want to say it’s not possible, but the guy is a hothead. I could see him snapping. If I hear from him, I’ll contact Detective Branch.”

“Thanks.” Presley disconnected and called Reggie to fill him in on what she’d learned.

“He seemed like a good guy. I find it hard to believe he set the fires. I didn’t get that vibe from him.”

Wow, Reggie had a hard time trusting anything she told him. “I’ll tell you what, Reggie. Why don’t you call the real Jed Flowers and talk to him?”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, Presley.”

It sure sounded like it to her. “I won’t bother you again, Reggie.”

“Pres—”

She disconnected and tossed her phone on the side table.

Dominic’s brows were raised.

“What?” she snapped.

“That was a tad harsh. Both your question to me and how you treated Reggie.”

She had barked at Dominic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you. It’s Reggie who deserves my ire. He believes nothing I tell him. He dismisses me.”

“Isn’t his job to be skeptical?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Whose side are you on?”

He lifted his hands. “I didn’t know there were sides. But you. Always.”

Presley’s heart somersaulted in her chest. Right answer.

#

Dominic was having a hard time keeping his hands off Presley. Everything she did turned him on. She was tough, determined, and so damn beautiful he forgot to breathe sometimes. Watching her was quickly becoming his favorite hobby.

Knowing his daughter was safe from harm’s way had eased the pressure in his chest. When the truck had rammed into them last night, his only thought had been to keep the SUV on the road. He hadn’t known sheer panic like that before, and he’d once rushed headfirst into a structure fire with flames licking at his gear to rescue a child. As it was, he’d have nightmares for months to come, worrying about Gia in the back seat and Presley beside him.

There was no way in hell he would let Presley face the threat alone. She might have a coworker coming to assist, but his job was to protect her or die trying. He could think of several ways he wanted to watch out for her. Most of them involved being naked.

“What?”

Dom shook his head. “I’m sorry?”

“You were staring at me funny.”

He pushed off the couch and stood. Then he removed the laptop from her hands and placed it on the desk. She stared at him with wide blue eyes. Holding out a hand, his breath stalled waiting for her to grasp it. When he felt her soft fingers on his, he knew he wasn’t letting her go.

With a tug, he yanked Presley into his arms. Then he was kissing her. Deep, breath-stealing slides of lips, teeth, and tongues. It was exquisite. She met him every step of the way. Somehow, he maneuvered them through the house, up the stairs, and into her bedroom. Clothes littered the floor like breadcrumbs until they were skin to skin. His hands caressed her sleek muscles. He let out a moan, or she did. He couldn’t wait another minute to make love to her.

With the breathtaking scenery of the lake in the distance, he followed Presley to the feather down mattress. As much as he craved her, he would put his needs aside and do this right. He kissed a path from her mouth, down her neck, and to her breast, taking one turgid nipple in his mouth while tweaking the other with his hand. She wasn’t overly endowed but the perfect size.

Her back arched, and her fingers grasped his head. “So good, Dominic, but there’s time for that later. I need you now.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He dug around on the floor for his pants, found a condom in his pocket he’d optimistically stashed there this morning, donned it, and then he was pushing inside her. Dom’s eyes rolled back in his head. The sensations were nothing like he’d ever experienced before. She was hot, tight, and felt like heaven. He had to stop and revel in the perfection of their joining.

“Dominic?”

“Yeah, babe?”

Suddenly, he was thrown off balance. He landed on his back with Presley looming over him, a sultry smile tilting her lips. Oh, God, he didn’t think it could get better. This was so much more so.

“You were taking too long, and I have no patience.”

His laugh turned into a groan when she started moving. If he could pick a way to leave the world, this would be it. Every nerve ending sparked with pleasure as she increased the pace. He cupped her breasts and gazed into her eyes. How had he lived without this woman?

As much as he wanted it to last forever, it was over much too soon because he couldn’t hold back. Thankfully, she couldn’t either. The climax was explosive, and for a second, he thought this honestly might be the way he died.

Presley collapsed on top of him, and he wrapped her in his arms. He wasn’t sure, but he might’ve passed out.

“Wow,” she breathed against his neck.

That was too mild of a description, but he wasn’t in the word-forming stage yet. He was still trying to regain his sanity.

#

Back when Presley had been a young girl crushing on Dominic, she’d dreamed of kissing him. She’d spied Gwen making out with him once and pretended it was her. At the time, she thought it was simply two sets of lips pressing together chastely. She had no idea the details and finesse that went into a kiss or how sensual it could be.

Presley wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t super-experienced, either. Still, she knew enough to realize Dominic was a master. She’d almost detonated from his kiss alone. Then he’d touched her, and it felt as if he’d pressed a live wire against her body. Sparks had erupted. He’d been taking his sweet time, which, under different circumstances, she would’ve enjoyed. Not when she’d needed him with an intensity bordering on desperation. It had been up to her to take matters into her own hands.

Thankfully, he’d been on the same page. When he’d slid inside her, it was all she could do to keep from blurting out her love for him. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

Maybe she should have been embarrassed about rushing them along, but she hadn’t been able to hold back. The only thing that had mattered was flying off the cliff with him beside her.

All she could think about was doing it again. And again. Presley had a feeling she’d never get enough of him.

A twinge of guilt assailed her. She was spending the day in bed with Dominic while Margy and Nancy were gone. But their deaths served to remind her that life was too short. Tomorrow wasn’t a guarantee for anyone. She needed to strive for happiness while she could.

Presley lazily blinked at the blue waters of the lake outside the windows and reveled in the fact that it was the middle of the day and she was lying in the arms of a man she’d loved for more than half her life. Dominic was spooned behind her, holding her close. It was the most fantastic blanket she’d ever had wrapped around her.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Dominic murmured into her ear before he nibbled her neck.

She rolled until they were face to face. “Good, because I feel the same way.”

That set him off, and the second time was hard and fast again. Maybe they’d get to the point where they could take it slow and worship each other’s bodies. Maybe not. Either way, she won.

#

Charmaine Wells tucked the sheets around her daughter, Ruth, and turned out the light. Her sons, Abraham and Lazarus, had already fallen asleep in their bunk beds while she’d read them a story from the children’s biblical series she’d purchased online.

Charmaine shuddered, remembering how irate her husband, Ezekiel, had been at her when he’d seen the charge. She’d know she’d been playing with fire using the credit card. She had a very short leash to spend money. So small, in fact, that she couldn’t buy so much as a candy bar without the third degree. Charmaine had assured Ezekiel that the books would be used for Sunday school classes. After many tense hours, when she didn’t know if he’d fly off the handle and strike or not, he’d finally relented. What he didn’t know was that she’d kept them to read to her kids. Ezekiel had little to do with rearing them. He never showed them affection or kissed their boo-boos. He barely acknowledged them. At least she didn’t have to worry about him finding the tomes in the room the three children shared.

Sometimes, she wondered if he knew their names—and he should since he insisted on all of them. She’d picked out monikers for babies she wanted to have when she was ten, with Dillon and Tiffani topping her list. Ezekiel hadn’t even entertained her choices.

Charmaine closed the door and sighed as she tried to work the kinks from her neck. What she wouldn’t give for a massage. Ezekiel would erupt into a murderous rage if another man touched her skin, even an accidental brush. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want the job himself. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d put his hands on her that way. How old was Lazarus?

Even back then, making love had been strictly for the purpose of creating life. Her pleasure had never factored into their sex life, such as it was. She was simply the vessel to carry his seed, and didn’t that sound icky? He’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t find her sexy. That’s why she’d packed on so many pounds. What did it matter?

For maybe the thousandth time, she wondered how this had become her life. She’d made a stupid mistake when she met Ezekiel and fell under his spell. In a moment of weakness, she’d confessed her deepest, darkest secret, and from then on, he’d owned her.

Charmaine glanced at the cheap plastic watch on her wrist. He would be in his office working on his next sermon, or watching porn, or who knew what. Charmaine was banished from going inside, and like the good Christian wife she was now, she obeyed orders.

She left the house and crossed the parking lot to the church. At one time, she’d been afraid of the dark, but she’d learned to relish it. No one could see you cry. Now, however, she was leery after the visit from Presley Parrish and Dominic Bianchi. They’d told Ezekiel to be careful, as if they thought someone had killed Margy Binder and Nancy Baker. Charmaine swallowed heavily. She couldn’t believe they were gone. Maybe she didn’t speak to them, but she took comfort in knowing they were nearby. Not anymore.

Something clattered, and she spun around, looking for the source. “Who’s there? Hello?”

No answer. It must’ve been one of the neighborhood cats digging for snacks in the trash can. Maybe it was a bear. They had been known to wander the streets in town. She usually carried a whistle to ward them off but had forgotten it in her haste to leave the house.

As she had done almost every night since she and her family had moved into the minister’s house at All God’s Children Church, Charmaine entered the unlocked door and headed to the chapel. Usually, the quiet was comforting. Tonight, however, it made her uneasy. Dominic had said to lock the doors, but Ezekiel wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted members of his flock or any lost soul to be able to get inside and pray at all hours of the day and night.

There was another sound she couldn’t identify. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

Again, no answer.

Charmaine continued to the room where the prayer candles were located. Each night, she confessed her sin to God, begging for his forgiveness. One day, she might believe he would do so.

She could see the candles flickering in the darkness as she approached. She started to step inside when something tangled in her legs, causing her to fall hard to the slate floor.

“Ow,” she moaned. Her knees ached, and her palms were scraped. The air had been knocked from her lungs. Still, she sensed someone behind her. “Help me. I’m hurt.”

No answer.

“Who’s there?”

“Your worst nightmare.”

Before Charmaine could react, two hands gripped her head and slammed it into the stone floor. Pain burst in her skull and panic flared before everything went black. She didn’t feel arms dragging her nor hear the crash of the stand holding the votives.

And Charmaine never felt the flames scorching her hair and licking her skin.