Page 24 of Serial Burn

SIX

The words sounded brave and tough, but in reality, while she meant them, they also covered the trembling deep in her soul.

One of her biggest nightmares was coming to life. One that she may have triggered with her very public, passionate promise to make sure her father’s name and legacy lived on. Her recklessness both terrified her and made her glad in a strange way. Maybe she would finally find the man who killed her family.

She shoved the blanket off her shoulders and a shiver swept through her. At the moment, all she wanted was to go home, grab a hot shower, and curl up on the couch to regroup and plan. “Can one of you guys give me a lift home after I give my statement?”

“I’ll be happy to,” Nathan said as he held out her phone.

“Thank you.” She slid the phone in her pocket, then rubbed her forehead. “I’ll have to get my stuff out of the Jeep and arrange for a rental.”

“You can call on the way.”

She frowned. “I love that Jeep.”

“It can be fixed or you can get another one.”

“Don’t want another one,” she muttered, then shook her head. “Let me give my statement, then I’ll be ready to go.”

He waited, then she followed him to his Rhino-XT and couldn’t help the smile that started to curve her lips.

“Don’t,” he said, his tone mild but the warning clear. “I was already in it when your call came.” Normally he’d be in a Bucar, but he hadn’t known he’d be arriving at a shootout.

“What?” She raised her brows, going for the most innocent expression she could muster. It was so much more fun to tease him than think about what could have happened. Kidnapped. Getting shot. Dying. She shuddered.

“You know what. It’s just a loaner.”

“Sure.”

“It is.”

“So you’ve said.”

He rolled his eyes and Jesslyn couldn’t help being amazed that she could feel amused after the past couple of hours. The ride to her house—with the blessed heat blasting on high—was short and uneventful, for which she sent up prayers of gratitude. “This is going to sound weird because it’s been twenty years, but I have some of my dad’s sweats in a drawer in the guest room,” she said once they were inside with the doors locked. “The pants might be a little short on you, but they’ll do for now. Second drawer from the bottom in the tall dresser.”

“It’s not weird. You don’t mind me wearing them?”

She smiled. “No. He’d be glad to help you.”

“Then thanks.”

She pointed him in the direction of her guest room and bath, then went to take care of her own soaking self.

Twenty minutes later, she padded into the kitchen, her feet clad in thick wool socks. Finally, she was starting to warm up, but a cup of coffee was still mandatory for both of them.

Her phone buzzed. She walked into the den, a cup of coffee in each hand. She set the drinks on the coffee table, curled up on the sofa, and aimed the remote at the television. Leaving it on mute, she grabbed her phone and swiped to answer the call.

“Hi, Carol.”

“Hey, sweetie. I wanted to run something by you.”

“What’s up?”

Nathan appeared in her doorway and her pulse did that little skippy thing. She cleared her throat and waved him toward a cup. With a clearly grateful look, he snagged it and settled on the other end of the couch. He filled out her father’s sweats very nicely.

“Jess? Are you listening to me?”

“Um, yes, of course.” She blinked. “What?”

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