Page 51 of The Pretender

Damon glanced at the hole in the side of the house. “Too late. The fire started in the library. If there was paperwork to be found, it’s probably gone now.”

That all made sense in the context of what had been happening on the island. Tabitha’s killer was covering tracks, making it even harder to connect the dots. There was no other explanation. Setting fire to the property couldn’t be about money. Sure, there would be insurance but the property unscathed had to be worth more.

After greed, there were a few other reasons for this kind of human damage. Hate, love, revenge. One of those fit. Harris scanned the faces in front of him, trying to pick up on any thread, find any hint of why someone would take this risk.

Gabby stood up. She walked past him to the front of the house. Stood there, right by the steps, and stared up at the impressive structure. Her shoulders were back and squared. Her feet apart. Once again, danger crept around her and she didn’t show any signs of breaking. Harris admired the strength on one level. It worried him on another. He knew what it was like to walk around empty, to keep his mind busy so that he would never feel anything. He wanted more for her.

“Hey.” He stepped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I think you should—”

She whipped around and fell against him. Buried her face in his neck.

The move stunned him. For a second he stood there frozen, then he wrapped his arms around her, enclosing her in a fierce hug. His lips went to her hair. The mixed scent of smoke and shampoo hit him.

He wanted to tell her everything was going to be fine, but he was tired of lying to her. Nothing about what was happening here was fine.

“I won’t leave you.” The words slipped out, but he didn’t regret them.

“Promise?” Her arms tightened around him as the word vibrated against his skin.

“Promise.”

Chapter 14

No one got much sleep that night. The fireboats arrived after the flames had been doused. An inspector and her team spent hours searching through the charred remains of the library. The sun had risen before they left.

Armed with a cup of coffee and operating on less than an hour of miserable sleep on a porch chair, Harris approached the main house. He’d showered at the guesthouse, but now he was back and ready to figure out the next step.

The smell of burned wood and metal tinged the air. The smoke had cleared and architects, handymen, builders and a host of other professionals would soon descend to clean up and repair. Harris figured they had three days—tops—before they lost control of the island. That meant less than three days to solve Tabitha’s murder or risk Gabby being a perpetual suspect. Or worse, in jail thanks to whatever trumped-up charges Stephen could create.

Harris walked into the house, no longer too haunted to walk around freely. A new danger lingered. The front of the house had escaped the blaze but still looked like a war zone. All the fire and rescue people had stomped through it. There were muddy tracks on the floor. Tables were moved. Two hoses lay in the entry.

He made his way through the hall to the library. The wallpaper darkened and peeled the closer he got to the room. In the doorway, he saw it. The devastation. The room had been transformed into a black-and-gray wasteland. A few of the bookcases closest to the patio doors appeared relatively unscathed. The rest of the room looked like it had been leveled with a blowtorch.

Black streaks stained the ceiling. The table had been reduced to ash. Curled ends of burned books and papers littered the floor. And Damon stood in the middle of it all with his hands on his hips.

“Should we be in here?” Harris asked as he sipped on the steaming-hot coffee Ted had made for him.

“The inspector said it was safe but not recommended. I took that as a yes.” Damon bent down and picked up a soggy blob that was once a mantel clock. “Her report will say the fire was intentionally set, but that’s not a surprise to any of us.”

“And once again Gabby will be blamed.” Harris could see it on the news now. A new scandal for Gabby Wright. Another unexplained moment of horror in her life that the media and gossip blogs would twist.

She lived in a cloud of suspicion and Harris couldn’t understand why. Even now, no one had pointed a finger at her, but he knew it was coming. From the tense way she’d walked around Kramer’s cottage this morning with her head down, keeping to herself, she expected the bright light to shine on her once again.

“Good thing you were sleeping with her when this crime happened.” Damon’s eyebrow lifted as he stared at Harris. “It would be really helpful if you were awake.”

“We were.” This time he could actually provide her alibi. His identity would be a problem only if someone really dug. Even then, Wren promised to keep his name and past secure and Harris didn’t doubt Wren or his abilities. Having a professional fixer as a friend paid off.

“That was quite a scene last night,” Damon said as the remains of burned books crunched under his shoe.

“Was that your first fire?”

“Not even the third, which is not a good topic, by the way.” Damon looked up from scanning the floor. “But I meant you and Gabby in that very public clench.”

Only Damon would use a fire to dig for personal information. The guy had balls. Harris gave him that much. “It’s called comfort. The poor woman has lost everything. Her parents, her sister. Now someone is coming after her, or at least this house.”

“Poor woman?” Damon snorted. “You talk like she’s your grandmother, not the hot chick you’re sleeping with.”

Not exactly the topic Harris wanted to tackle first thing in the morning, but Damon wasn’t giving him much of a choice. “And you act like that’s your business.”

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