Page 10 of Fire Fight
four
. . .
ASPEN
Crew Lawless was incrediblyeasy to talk to.
And even easier on the eyes.
I had to keep my wits about me around that one, lest I let his hypnotic ocean gaze pull me into the deep and never let me go.
That man…he was fucking dangerous. Arguably more dangerous to me than the killer I was chasing.
Two hours passed in a blink, and against my better judgement, we exchanged numbers before parting with the promise that I’d call if I needed anything at all.
The demand was so fucking suggestive, I almost gave in right there. It had been a long ass time since I had good sex, and Crew gave Big Dick Energy, the kind I knew he’d be able to back up.
Maybe, once I was a little more settled in town, I’d make our acquaintance a little less professional.
He didn’t strike me as the type to want more than something casual anyway, so despite the red flags waving in the muscles and the grin and the sexy ass tattoos, it probably wouldn’t kill me to take him for a ride.
Fucking hell, McKay, I silently admonished myself.Get it together.
I had a job to do, first and foremost.
After we parted ways, I headed back to my motel room with a copy of the incident reports Crew and the Chief had agreed to give me, spending hours poring over them and taking copious notes. Getting the full scope of the crimes without the police reports was difficult, but I did the best I could. I broke briefly for lunch, then set off on my next errand.
Emboldened by the ease with which Crew and the fire station team had agreed to help me, my next stop at the sheriff’s department was only logical.
An artificial bell signaled my entrance when I pushed the door open, and the desk sergeant stood and waved me over.
“Hello, miss,” she said, her voice muffled by the sheet of plexiglass between us. “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping I could speak to someone about the Prom Night Arsonist.”
In that detached, cop-like way, she did a quick perusal of my person. Ultimately, she must have assumed I wasn’t a threat, because she plastered on the fakest smile I’d ever seen, and said, “Excuse me a moment while I get the sheriff.”
She disappeared, and I took a moment to turn about the small lobby, studying the framed photos and accolades on the walls.
My gaze latched onto a photo of an officer in full dress uniform, a shiny star pinned to his chest, surrounded by a crowd of people. There in the thick of it all was none other than Crew Lawless. Younger than he was now, face freshly shaved, missing that darker blonde stubble that shaded his chin and jaw now. The man filled the hell out of a pale blue button down shirt and khaki pants.
Which meant the officer had to be his brother, the sheriff.
As though I’d conjured him, thebuzzof a door being opened remotely sounded from my left, and a hulking man with tattoos engulfing both arms, unlike his brother’s single sleeve, stepped through.
By my estimation, the sheriff had maybe an inch of height on Crew, but they were both impressively broad-shouldered and muscular, every bit of them from head to toe exuding strength and masculinity. I wondered which one was older.
This one, I decided mentally after studying his face and the lines branch out from his eyes more closely.
“I’m Sheriff Lawless,” he said. “Can I help you, Miss…”
There was an irony to be found in his title, a joke buried somewhere.
“McKay, but please, call me Aspen.”
“Alright, Aspen,” he said, somewhat warily as he hooked his thumbs into his belt. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m a private investigator,” I began, withdrawing my license and ID from my bag. “I’m here looking into the Prom Night Arsonist murders, and I was curious if the department would be willing to let me take a look at the case files.”
