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Dominic checked traffic before pulling away from the curb and onto the street. “We’ll head to the chief medical examiner’s office next.”

“It’s lunchtime, and I’m starving. Let’s grab something to eat before we visit her.”

“Sounds good.”

Dom stopped at a pub known for delicious sandwiches and a diverse beer list, though they wouldn’t be imbibing. It was located along the Lakewalk with views of the water. The restaurant was crowded, but they were seated in a booth that provided a modicum of privacy.

After the server took their drink order, Presley leaned forward.

“Something happened.”

Dom’s brows arched. “With Tamera? While I was gone?”

“No. Yes.” She shook her head. “Not today, but years ago.”

The server returned, placed their drinks on coasters, and then took their food orders. Presley chose a grilled chicken sandwich with lettuce and tomato. Dom opted for the Philly Cheesesteak.

When the server left, Dom asked, “What do you mean?”

“There’s a reason Tamera, Jessie, and the others lost touch with each other.”

“People drift apart,” he rationalized.

“That’s what they said,” she mumbled. “And, yes, they do, but I don’t believe that’s what happened. For the most part, they stayed in the same small town. They were as close as sisters once. After Gwen’s death, they quit talking. There must be a reason.”

“Maybe it hit them hard. People react differently to death. Losing someone close to you can adjust your priorities.”

Dom thought about his wife and the guilt he’d felt when he’d found out Lainey had died. He wasn’t remorseful because she was gone, though he had loved her once. Their marriage had been good in the beginning. It was an overwhelming relief that Gia didn’t have to be around her mother anymore and listen to her criticisms. Lainey would have no more influence or control over their daughter. How sad was that? She was her mother.

The night she’d left, he’d found out the extent of Lainey’s treatment of Gia. He’d been livid but he worried that she might decide to come back and take Gia from him. Courts often sided with the mother.

“Death does rearrange your priorities,” Presley agreed, jarring him from his thoughts. “Believe me, I know. That’s not what happened here. I feel it in my gut. Something else in play. They were young. I thought Gwen’s death would’ve brought them closer instead of pushing them apart.”

“What do you think it was?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea, but I plan on prying it from one of them before I leave. There’s something else.”

“What is it?”

“Do you remember Jessie saying someone had asked about me?”

“Yeah, a guy named Andy researching his genealogy.”

“The same guy talked to Tamera.”

Dom nodded. “That makes sense if he was trying to learn more about you.”

“Don’t you think it’s odd that an unknown man goes around asking about me, and then the Cheerios start dying?”

“You think they’re connected somehow?”

Presley slumped back against the seat. “Honestly, I don’t know. I have no impetus to believe they’re related, but what if they are? Am I the reason they’re being killed?”

“We don’t know for sure their deaths aren’t accidental,” he cautioned her. “They’ve been ruled that way.”

“I don’t like it,” she grumbled.

The server returned with their sandwiches and they dug in. While they ate, Presley told him about her job and some people she worked with. He bragged about Gia and her accomplishments. Dom glanced at his plate, shocked to find it empty. He didn’t remember eating. The conversation had been titillating.

A fight ensued over paying the check. Dom smiled smugly, thinking he’d won, only to realize Presley had tricked him. She’d cheated and switched her credit card for his.

“That was sneaky. Next time, I pay.”

She quirked a brow. “There’s going to be a next time?”

“Oh, yeah.” Several, if he had anything to say about it.

Driving through town was slow-going with traffic and stoplights. Dom turned into the complex that housed the chief medical examiner’s offices and the county morgue. After he parked, he escorted Presley into the building.

“Have you been here before?”

“A few times.”

He guided her through the hallways and opened a glass door.

A woman with ash-blonde hair fastened into a loose bun and red cat-eye glasses greeted them. “May I help you?”

“We’d like to speak with Dr. Anders. I’m Captain Dominic Bianchi from the Serenity Shores Fire Department.”

“One moment, please.”

The woman stood and disappeared down a corridor. She returned quickly. “She’ll see you. Follow me.”

She led them to a door and ushered them inside. A woman in a white lab coat stood. “Captain Bianchi, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too, Dr. Anders.” He shook the woman’s outstretched hand. “This is Presley Parrish. She’s an investigator with CObrA Securities.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Dr. Anders studied Presley intently. “Parrish? That name sounds familiar.”

#

Presley shook the hand of the pretty woman with a chin-length blonde bob and hazel eyes. If Presley had to guess, she would peg the doctor to be in her mid-to-late forties.

“I’m originally from the area,” Presley responded.

“Ah. Well, maybe that’s it.” With a wave of her hand, she said, “Please, have a seat.”

Once they occupied the chairs in front of her desk, the doctor sat down. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re looking for information on two recent deaths: Margy Binder, and Nancy Babcock.”

Dr. Anders’s brows pinched. “Ms. Binder passed away a few days ago. Smoke inhalation. I just finished autopsies on Nancy Babcock and her husband. They also died from smoke inhalation.”

“I don’t mean to second-guess you, but are you certain that was the cause of death?”

“Positive.”

“Again, I’m not questioning your methods, but how can you be sure? The two women were long-time friends, and it seems strange that they both perished the same way, days apart.”

“Maybe I’ve only been here for a couple of months, but let me assure you, Ms. Parrish, I am very good at my job.”

The words were pinched, and Presley feared she was making an enemy of the ME.

“But to answer your question, a smoke inhalation death is not unusual. In fact, it kills twice as many people as burns.”

“How do you determine the cause of death?”

The pause was so long that Presley wasn’t sure she would answer. Finally, Dr. Anders spun her chair around and grabbed a plastic anatomical head. It came apart in the center to show the inner workings. “There are several ways. The most significant factor is the presence of soot deposits in the mouth, throat, trachea, and bronchial tubes.” She pointed to each area as she said them. “The particles get trapped in the airways when someone inhales. See the difference?” She showed them the side without the soot. “That means they were breathing when the fire started.”

“They were alive then?”

“Yes. Without getting too technical, there are other criteria we look for, including visible burns in the mouth to suggest direct exposure to smoke on the tongue, larynx, etcetera. Blood is another key. If it’s cherry red, there is the presence of carbon monoxide poison, often associated with smoke inhalation. Toxicological analysis will determine the level of carboxyhemoglobin in the blood. If the concentration is more than fifty percent, it indicates that the person died in the fire. Lung tissue is analyzed by microscope to reveal damage.”

Well, there were certainly many ways to come to that conclusion. Presley felt foolish for asking.

“We also use forensic toxicology to establish if other potential toxins are present in the body.”

“When will you have those results?” Dominic asked.

Dr. Anders sighed. “As you know, nothing happens quickly, Captain Bianchi. Expect four to six weeks.”

Much too long. “You didn’t find any marks on the body that would suggest a struggle or perhaps bondage?” Presley questioned.

Dr. Anders looked at her askance. “None.”

“What about needle marks?”

“You’re wondering if they were drugged?”

“Yes.”

“There were no suspicious marks on any of the bodies.”

“Do you have extra samples from the victims?”

“Of course. Why?”

“Dominic mentioned I work for a security firm. Would it be possible to send them samples so they can fast-track the testing? They’ll have results in a matter of hours instead of weeks.”

Dr. Anders studied her. “Why?”

“I’m not convinced the deaths are accidental.”

“As Captain Bianchi could tell you, fire is a significant cause of mortality around the world, and a substantial majority are accidents.”

“There are other factors involved.” Presley didn’t want to get into their history, but she would if necessary.

“I’m sorry. I can’t just turn over samples to an unknown entity. That’s unethical. I’m afraid I must refuse.”

Presley took out a business card and handed it to her. “I assure you, we are legitimate. I’ll have my office call you to discuss the details.”

Dr. Anders took the card. “I’d like to know why you think there is something nefarious about the deaths. It’s tragic, but nothing suggests foul play. The science doesn’t support it.”

Presley stood. “Margy Binder and Nancy Babcock were close from a young age. Another of their friends perished in a fire years ago. It’s too suspect that they would die the same way, days apart.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Sometimes, coincidences do happen.”

“Um,” was all Presley managed.

Always the polite one, Dominic said, “Thank you for your time, Dr. Anders.”

Presley echoed the sentiment, and they left her office.

“Did I totally piss her off?” Presley wanted to know as they climbed into the vehicle.

Dominic chuckled. “Let’s just say I doubt she’ll be calling your office and leaving a glowing review.”

Presley pulled the seat belt across her chest and buckled in. “Damn. I even tried to tone it down. I’m afraid delicacy and diplomacy aren’t my strong suits.”

“You weren’t rude,” Dominic assured her.

“Thanks. I feel a little better. I need to call my bosses and tell them about my suspicions.”

Dominic glanced at her as he started the engine. “Do you think they’ll be able to get the samples?”

“I have absolutely no doubt.”

Presley called her office and requested a conference call with her bosses, Luke Colton and Logan Bradley. She explained what was going on, starting with her cousin’s death and then the fires that killed Margy Binder, Nancy Babcock, and her husband. They came to the same conclusion that she had—something wasn’t right. They immediately offered full support from the company. She’d known they’d assist with the toxicology reports but hadn’t expected they would consider it one of their cases. She was blown away.

Presley hoped she wasn’t jumping to conclusions and seeing things that weren’t there. Having Luke and Logan back her up went a long way in reassuring her. They were two of the most brilliant minds in the business.

“Let us know if you need another agent to assist. We can have Kayne Serruto or Jalen Ellis there,” Logan told her.

“Thank you. If things keep happening, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

They talked for a few more minutes, and then she disconnected.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it sounded like they believed you,” said Dominic.

Presley exhaled. “They did. I trust both implicitly, so knowing they came to the same conclusion makes me feel better.”

“What are our next steps?”

It warmed her that he’d said “their steps” and deferred to her. In her former job, first as a cop and then a detective, the men always tried to take over. No matter if her ideas were brilliant and insightful, they dismissed her. That was one reason she loved working with Luke, Logan, and the other agents. None of the men were threatened by a woman taking charge. They were a team.

“My office will acquire samples from Margy and Nancy to ensure they weren’t drugged.”

“You think they’ll be able to crack Dr. Anders’s hard shell? She seemed pretty determined to keep them to herself.”

“Oh, they’ll get it done. CObrA Securities is an unstoppable force.”

Dominic chuckled. “Good to know.”

“I also need to figure out who would want the women dead. Who would benefit and why?”

“Whatever I can do to help, let me know.”

She almost told him that his presence was what she needed. His calm competence grounded her. Plus, she enjoyed spending time with him. Like her coworkers, he wasn’t threatened that she was a woman. And, goodness, she was so aware of his scent, strength, and handsomeness. Everything about him was a turn-on.

“Actually, there is something you can help me with. If you don’t mind stopping at a motel, I can book a room.”

#

Dominic braked at a red light and turned to Presley. “You’re already set up in my guest room. Plus, Margy’s funeral is tomorrow. We can go together. There’s no need to get a hotel room.”

If he were a wise man, he would drive her to the Hyatt Regency and drop her off. The more time he spent with her, the more he liked her. She was intelligent, competent, and beautiful. He was rapidly growing fond of her.

Dom hadn’t been a monk in the years since Lainey died, but he’d refrained from forming a connection with anyone despite the dogged persistence of many determined women in town. He didn’t want Gia becoming attached, only for the relationship to fizzle out. Plus, he didn’t want her to witness a slew of women warming his bed. That’s why he’d been shocked when he had invited Presley to stay with them.

Dominic wanted to believe he was being benevolent in offering Presley a room, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He felt a deep connection and craved being near her. She would only be in town for a short amount of time. Those minutes, hours, were precious, and he planned on consuming as much of her as she’d allow.

The only problem was that Gia was becoming attached to her too. She’d been so reserved and mistrusting since Lainey’s death. To see her opening up to a woman was encouraging. His most important want in life was for Gia to be happy. She was when Presley was around. The flip side of the coin was that she would be upset when Presley left. Was it worth it for his daughter to have a few days of bliss? Honestly, he wasn’t sure. What a conundrum.

“I hate to keep imposing on you and Gia,” Presley said, breaking into his thoughts.

“You aren’t. I offered.”

“The bed was comfortable. If you’re sure . . .”

“I am.”

Dominic didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath, waiting for her answer. The feeling that washed over him was happiness. It’d been so long since he’d felt it, he almost didn’t recognize it. Maybe excitement too. And anticipation. Most importantly, hope.