Page 10 of Raging Inferno

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?”

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