Page 3

Presley departed the police station twenty minutes later, unable to convince Reggie that anything was amiss. He escorted her out a side door so she didn’t have to encounter Denea again.

She’d managed to coax the contact information and addresses of the remaining quartet from him and was surprised to learn that Charmaine Dunn, Tamera Watts, Nancy Baker, and Jessie Hooper had all stayed in the surrounding area like Margy. She assumed one or more would’ve moved away at some point over the years. Three had married—Nancy twice and Tamera thrice. Margy had been the only one who’d remained single. Besides Gwen.

Presley planned on speaking with Jessie Hooper first. She’d always been the ringleader and Gwen’s best friend. But instead of driving to her house, she detoured to the fire station closest to Margy’s home, assuming they would’ve gotten the call.

She found a spot to park and entered the two-story building through one of the open bay doors. A woman was washing windows on a ladder truck while another worked with a thick, gray hose. Two men were polishing the trucks. One of them glanced up and spotted her. He stood, and his gaze ran from her head to her feet and back. A smile broke out on his face as he wiped his hands with the rag. He was adorable, with light-red hair and a muscled body that would’ve looked right at home on a wall calendar. She’d bet her last paycheck he wasn’t legal to drink alcohol.

“Hello, there,” he drawled as he sauntered her way. “How can I help you?” He wagged his brows.

“I need to speak with your captain.”

“Aw, come on, I’m tired of doing maintenance and need a distraction. I’m sure I can assist you with whatever you need instead of bothering Cap Bianchi.”

Presley blinked. “Bianchi? As in Dominic Bianchi?”

He regarded her shrewdly. “Yes.”

Presley was transported back to when she had been a young girl harboring a humongous crush on Gwen’s handsome boyfriend. He had been the star of the basketball, baseball, and football teams, a consummate athlete, and Presley had been smitten. Whenever she’d been around him, shyness had gripped her, and she could never say more than two words before giggling. He’d always been so sweet to her.

Gwen had dated Dominic duringtheir freshman and sophomore years. It had crushed Presley when they broke up. Even after he and Gwen had stopped dating, he’d still greeted her at games.

“I’ll reiterate,” the cute young firefighter said. “Let me help you. I’m Garrett, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Garrett, but I still need to speak with Captain Bianchi.”

His lips pursed. “Fine. Ruin my day, beautiful. Maybe I’ll get over it. Maybe not. Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but I knew him years ago. Tell him Gwen Parrish’s cousin is here to see him.”

“Okay, Gwen Parrish’s cousin, I’ll let him know.”

While he disappeared through a doorway, she checked out the wide bay that housed two large trucks and a smaller one. Turnout gear hung on hooks along one wall, with boots lined up beneath in perfect alignment. There was even a fire pole in one corner. She didn’t know those were still a thing.

Several of the men and women had stopped what they were doing to watch her. What? They never had visitors?

As if sensing they’d been staring, they all went back to their tasks, except for one woman who came over to her. “Hi, I’m Rena.” She held out a hand. “Are you dating the captain?”

Presley shook it. “No, I’m here to ask him a few questions.”

“Ah. So, you’re a reporter.”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

Garrett returned and gestured for her to follow. “The captain said to bring you back, Gwen Parrish’s cousin.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said to Rena as she followed Garret down the hall. Presley concentrated on calming her racing heart. He might not be the same Dominic Bianchi. Maybe he wassomeone with the same name living in the same town where the original resided years ago. An amused grin twisted her lips. Even she didn’t believe that was remotely possible. It wasn’t a common name.

Garrett ushered her through an open door. She entered the office and promptly tripped over her feet.

Dominic Bianchi was every bit as gorgeous as she remembered. More so. He was a man now. Ridiculously tall, with dark curly hair cut short, tanned skin, and deep amber eyes surrounded by thick lashes. Muscles upon muscles. And, ah, those dimples. If she had to describe her dream man, this was it.

With false bravado, she squared her shoulders and marched forward.

#

A knock sounded on Dominic Bianchi’s office door as he reviewed time sheets from the past week. “Come in.”

Garrett McGee stuck his head inside. “Hey, Bossman, there’s a woman here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment but hoped you’d speak with her. She said to tell you she was Gwen Parrish’s cousin.”

Gwen Parrish. Damn, Dom hadn’t thought about her in years. He and Gwen had dated during their initial two years of high school. The moment he’d spotted her in the hallway during their freshman year, he’d fallen for her. He’d been totally smitten, and their adolescent love had been mutual. Sadly, their relationship had fizzled by the end of sophomore year. He’d been so busy playing sports, and she’d been consumed with cheerleading, that their schedules rarely meshed. It’d finally taken a toll. They’d remained friends after the breakup.

He’d been shocked to hear of her passing soon after graduation, and he’d mourned her loss. One of Dom’s football teammates had been responsible for her death and couldn’t live with what he’d done. He’d taken his life, making the ordeal doubly tragic.

Dom was supposed to have been at the party where the accident happened, but he’d been hit with a nasty case of food poisoning, keeping him chained to the bathroom. He wanted to think he could’ve done something to save Gwen if he’d been there, but it was unlikely.

Realizing Garrett was waiting for his response, he cleared his throat. “Send her back.”

Dom remembered Gwen’s young cousin Presley. She’d been a couple of years older than Dom’s daughter was now. Presley had followed Gwen everywhere. Despite being several years too young, she’d even cheered with the high schoolers.

Gwen had adored her and loved having her tag along, even on their dates. Presley had been a doll back then, with big blue eyes, long blonde hair like Gwen’s, and a sweet smile. Whenever he’d talk to her, she would giggle and hide her face. Her shyness had been adorable. He imagined she’d grown up to be a beautiful woman.

Garrett had left the door open. Dom glanced up to see him motioning for someone to enter, and he stood. He sucked in a breath as the woman strode forward confidently and held out a hand.

“Mr. Bianchi. It’s good to see you after all these years.”

“Presley?”

She tilted her head. “Yes.”

She wasn’t anything like he remembered, nor what he thought she’d look like now. Oh, she was undeniably beautiful. No doubt about that. Her hair was still long and blonde, and her blue eyes sparkled like the finest sapphires. Her creamy skin was flawless, without a wrinkle or blemish marring the surface. But this stunning woman had a hardness about her and didn’t look as if she had a shy bone in her body. She was serious and unsmiling. Intimidating.

Presley dropped her arm, and he realized he’d been staring at her instead of shaking the hand she’d offered.

“I’m sorry, you’re not what I expected.” He winced, hating thathis internal thoughts had spewed from his mouth.

“I was young, and it’s been a long time. A lifetime ago. I don’t expect you to remember me.”

“I do . . . just not . . . I mean . . .” Good lord, what was wrong with him? He was babbling like a fool. “I remembered you differently.” He shook his head. “That sounded wrong. My daughter would slug me for being so insensitive.”

“It’s okay,” she said, letting him off the hook. “I was shy and flaky.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that.” More like adorable. He waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.” Once she was settled, he assured her, “I do remember you, Presley. I even recall that you wanted to become a vet.”

“I did.”

“Oh, yeah?” Most people didn’t follow through with childhood dreams. He hadn’t, or he’d still be on an MLB roster, catching balls in the NFL, or draining three-pointers in the NBA, making millions, and playing one of the games he’d loved. “Do you have your own practice?”

“Not that kind of vet. I was in the Army.”

Dom’s jaw dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

Presley’s lips firmed. “Are you one of those men who doesn’t think a woman can be a good soldier? Because I can assure you that—”

“What? No. Absolutely not. I know women are as good as men, if not better.”

His reaction stemmed from picturing the beauty in front of him dressed in camo and carrying a weapon. Dom shook his head. He couldn’t see it. “I’m sorry. Let’s start this conversation over.” He held out a hand. “It’s nice to see you again after all these years, Presley.”

She let him off the hook again and shook it. Nice firm grip.

“You too, Dominic.”

“Do you still live around here?” He didn’t think so. He’d have come across her at some point or at least heard about her. Gossip was an Olympic event in Serenity Shores. All the single men in town would’ve been vying for her attention. Yeah, he’d looked at her naked ring finger.

“No, I live in Bloomington, Indiana.”

“I’ve been there. It’s a beautiful city.”

“It is.”

“What brings you back to Serenity Shores?”

“Margy Binder’s death.”

“Ah. That was a rough one. Fires are bad enough. When you add a casualty, it makes it exponentially more horrendous.”

“Was there anything suspicious about the blaze?”

“No. She was known to burn candles all the time. She made her own and even toyed with starting a company. Unfortunately, she left one unattended, and the unthinkable happened.”

“She died of smoke inhalation, correct?”

Dom studied her. “Yes. Why the questions?”

“Let’s say I’m skeptical.”

“About the fire? Or Margy’s cause of death?”

“Both.”

Dom leaned forward. “Why?”

“I’m trained to look for inconsistencies.”

“Are you still in the military?”

“No. I work for a private security company.”

She surprised him again. “How did you get involved with that?”

“After I left the Army, I joined the police academy and eventually became a detective.”

Dom was gobsmacked. She looked like a runway model. The sweet, shy girl had turned into a bona fide badass. “I have to admit, I didn’t see that coming.”

“I grew up the night Gwen died.”

He’d had a rough time after she’d passed away, but he could only imagine how hard it had been on Presley. It would’ve been like losing a sister. “Your detective instincts think something is off about Margy’s death?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because she died the same way as Gwen.”

#

Presley watched Dominic’s perfectly sculpted lips move as he spoke. “Unfortunately, hundreds of people die in fires each year,” he responded to her statement.

“Same thing Reggie said,” she muttered.

“Excuse me?”

Presley waved a hand. “Nothing. Look, I know it sounds far-fetched, but I have a gut feeling that they are connected.”

Dominic spread his hands in a move she interpreted as I don’t know what to tell you .

“Sometimes coincidences happen. There is nothing suspicious about the fire. If she had replaced her alarm batteries, the outcome might’ve been different. We’ll never know.”

Presley was having a hard time keeping her frustration at bay. An unbiased look at the evidence might suggest the same conclusion as Dominic and Reggie believed, but she didn’t subscribe to the same theory.

Presley jumped when an earsplitting alarm pealed throughout the building. A voice announced an active fire.

Dom surged to his feet. “I’m sorry, I have to go. We’ll continue this later. Leave your number on my desk, and I’ll contact you. We can grab dinner tomorrow if you’re free.”

Then he was gone.

Presley’s heart lurched. Even knowing he’d meant the invitation innocently, she couldn’t help the glimmer of excitement at sharing a meal with him. She’d crushed so hard on him back in the day. She’d dreamed of going out with him, but those were the fantasies of a young girl.

Presley took out one of her CObrA Securities cards and scribbled her cell number on the back before tucking it beneath the phone on his desk. She left the office and watched as the firefighters geared up in practiced efficiency, loaded into the trucks, and motored away, the sirens growing fainter.

Something niggled at her. It’d happened before Dom’s dinner proposal. When he’d thrown out the offer, her mind had blanked. Then it hit her. The announcement of the fire. She took out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. No wonder the address sounded familiar. It was Nancy Baker’s house.

Presley bolted out the door and almost ran over a young girl with a backpack, wearing a jersey emblazoned with the number twenty, striped knee socks, and sneakers. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Who are you?”

“Presley.”

“Like that old guy? Elvis?”

Presley chuckled. “Unfortunately, yes. Same name.”

The girl smiled, showcasing deep dimples . . . just like Dom’s. She wore a Minnesota Twins baseball cap, with long, curly black hair spilling out the back hole. “What’s your name?”

“Gia. My dad works here, but the trucks are gone, so they’re out on a call.”

Presley wasn’t an expert judge of age, but the girl looked too young to be out and about by herself. “Is your dad Dominic Bianchi?”

Gia’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “How did you know?”

The stab of disappointment the news caused was totally inappropriate for the situation. She didn’t even know Dominic, certainly not the man he’d become. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he was married. Then she recalled him saying something about his daughter slugging him for being insensitive. Presley wondered what his wife would say about his dinner offer to her.

“I knew your dad years ago. I grew up in Serenity Shores.”

“That’s too bad,” Gia grumbled as she kicked at the floor. “I hate it here.”

Presley had felt the same way after Gwen died. Though it was a lovely city, the bad outweighed the good.

She didn’t want to leave the girl, but she needed to get to the scene of the fire. Dominic and Reggie had to believe her now. Her instincts about the Cheerios had been correct.

“Gia, is somebody watching you now?”

She crossed her arms defiantly. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“How old are you?”

“Almost nine. Only little kids need a babysitter.”

She hated to point it out to Gia, but she was a little kid. “Are you supposed to be here?”

Gia dropped her arms. “What are you? The fire station police?”

Presley bit back a smile at her attitude. “No. Call me a concerned citizen.”

“What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“You’re frustrating,” Gia grumbled. “Do you know that?”

Presley did smile this time. “So I’ve been told. And I was a cop.”

“You were?”

“Yes. Should you be here, Gia?”

The girl sighed. “No, but Daddy won’t mind.”

Presley made a snap decision. “I need to go, but I don’t want to leave you alone. Do you want a ride somewhere?”

Gia shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Where do you usually spend time after school?”

“With Mrs. Maxx, but she didn’t show up after soccer practice. My friend’s mom dropped me off here.”

Presley didn’t know the situation, but if someone were supposed to pick up her kid and didn’t, she would be irate. “What about your mom?”

“What about her?” Gia challenged, her arms crossing defiantly again.

“Can’t she watch you?”

“Not hardly,” she scoffed. “She’s dead.”

The words were said with venom, certainly too much for an almost-nine-year-old. Presley regretted asking. “You can come with me, and after I run an errand, we’ll grab something to eat if your dad says it’s okay.”

“Can we get corn dogs?”

“Sure. But there’s somewhere I need to be first, so let’s make a pact. You stay in the car with the doors locked while I do what I need to, and then we’ll get corn dogs and malts. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shook hands.

“Wait, you know not to go anywhere with strangers, don’t you?”

“Duh.” This was said with an exaggerated eye roll. “You know my dad, and you grew up here, so you’re not a stranger.”

Presley was afraid she was doing the wrong thing, but what did she know about kids? If she parked away from the activity, Dominic would never have to know his daughter was there. Her desire to go to the fire warred with the guilt of deceiving Dominic.

She could head to the drive-in that served the best corn dogs in Minnesota, assuming it was still in business, and find out about the fire later. Sadly, she wasn’t built that way.

Presley decided to text Dominic once she left the scene and let him know Gia was with her.

After ensuring Gia was securely belted into the back seat—she wasn’t sure what age was appropriate to sit in the front, so she erred on the side of caution—Presley headed to Nancy’s address. Black smoke filled the sky as they neared the scene, where several emergency vehicles crowded the street.

Gia leaned forward between the seats and pointed. “Hey, my dad’s here.”

“We made a deal, Gia,” Presley reminded her as she parked away from the commotion. “Remember? You stay here with the doors locked. I’ll be right back. Then it’s corn dog heaven. Right?”

“Right,” Gia agreed.

Presley slid out of the Escalade and locked the doors. Then she jogged toward the flames. The house, located in an area of closely spaced, quaint bungalows, looked to be fully engulfed. It was made of brick, so maybe it wouldn’t be a total loss, and hopefully, the homes on either side would be spared. Presley prayed that no one had been inside when the fire broke out.

She found Dominic in his turnout gear, standing off to the side, barking orders into a walkie-talkie.

“Was anyone inside?”

He whipped his head toward her. “Presley? What are you doing here?”

“I recognized the address as Nancy Baker’s.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I was a cop, Dominic. I can handle a crime scene.”

“We don’t know if it is one yet.”

“It is.” She was sure of it. “Have you found a body?”

“Not yet. It’s still an active fire, so it’s too hot to go inside. We . . . Gia? What are you doing here?”

Presley swung around to see the girl marching determinedly toward them. “Hey, you promised to stay in the SUV.”

“Gia is with you?” Dominic shook his head. “What’s going on?”

“She showed up at the station, and I thought she was too young to be alone, so I promised her corn dogs and a malt if she stayed in the vehicle while I checked out the fire. I was going to let you know she was with me.”

“Gia, where is Mrs. Maxx?”

Gia shrugged her shoulders. “She didn’t show up.”

“You walked all the way to the station? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t walk. Tracey’s mom dropped me off after soccer practice.”

“I’ll call Ms. Pringle and see if she can come get you.”

“No, Daddy. Please.” She clutched Presley’s arm. “Presley is taking me out to eat.”

“Honey, we can’t impose on her. She didn’t sign up for this.”

“I don’t mind, Dominic,” Presley told him. Though she had things she needed to do, she couldn’t disappoint the young girl. “I can look after her until you get off.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Dominic’s walkie-talkie squawked. “I need to handle this. Presley, I owe you for watching out for Gia. You can head to my house, and I’ll meet you there when I can.”

As soon as he strode away, Presley whirled toward the girl. “We had a deal, young lady. Oh, I’ll still take you out to eat. But now it will be tofu burgers and beet juice for dinner.”

Gia gaped at her. “Yuck. You wouldn’t.”

Presley crossed her arms. “So would. Maybe with a side of liver and onions.”

Gia gagged. “Oh, gross! That’s disgusting.”

“Why did you disobey my orders?”

“You’re not my mom!”

Presley absorbed her anger and waited for her to calm down. “Didn’t say I was.”

Gia looked away. “I don’t like to be by myself, okay? I freaked out when you left.” She turned back to Presley and jutted out her chin. “That doesn’t make me a baby.”

“Didn’t say it did.” She glanced back at the fire, now mostly out. Still, Dom would be there for a while. “Come on. Let’s go.” Presley started walking, but Gia stayed put. Presley turned to her. “Are you coming?”

“I’m not eating tofu and liver, and I hate beets. I’d rather starve to death.”

“Well, you reneged on our deal, so them’s the breaks, kid.”

“What does reneged mean?”

“Broke a promise.”

“Aw, please? I swear I won’t do it again. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

All of Presley’s anger fled as she stared into pleading amber eyes so similar to her father’s. This girl, who was still a child, had confessed her insecurities. Only a monster would hold them against her.

“Fine. I’ll let it slide this once. But do better.”

Gia skipped to Presley and grabbed her hand. “I will.”

Somehow, Presley had come home to investigate a murder and ended up a babysitter.