UP IN FLAMES

His head tilted slightly. Through the layers of her starched and stiff clothing, she felt his stare move from the tips of her shoes to the top of her head. His lips curved up as his gaze locked with hers. “I’ll get back to you on that, Mrs Spencer.”

After Alaric left, Vanessa quickly gathered up a day or two’s worth of clothing and some personal stuff. She packed it up neatly and exited the apartment after calling for a cab. Paranoia kept causing her to look over her shoulder as she waited for the cab to arrive. She ended up checking into a hotel. She closed the door behind her, locked it, and rolled her suitcase to the bed. Looking around the room, the queen-size bed with square pillows, the desk and the TV, she let out a deep sigh. She plopped down on the bed, wishing she’d had the foresight to grab a carton of ice cream from her freezer. It felt like it was going to be one of those “look at your life, look at your choices” kinds of night, and she needed chocolate to deal with that shit.

Feeling more alone than she had in many years, and too tired to even call room service, she scooted back across the uncomfortable bed and tucked her knees against her chest. She sighed, dropping her chin on her knees. It was going to be a long night.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

———-

At his office two days later, Alaric scrolled through the results on the names Vanessa had sent him for a third time. He wasn’t sure what, if anything, he would find. He sighed. These things were like puzzles and it never helped when the person in need of his assistance lied.

Staying with a friend. Bullshit.

After leaving her apartment, he’d driven around the block and then parked down the street from her apartment. Thirty minutes later and just when he was about to go right back up to that apartment and drag her ass out of it, a cab showed up and out came Vanessa, tugging along a small suitcase.

What kind of male would let her take a cab to his house at this time of night? he’d wondered, but then he had his answer shortly thereafter. He hadn’t believed it at first. Vanessa hadn’t gone to a friend’s house. Nope. She’d checked into a hotel.

Jesus. The nerve of this woman!

She was all alone, and something about that didn’t sit well. Still didn’t sit well with him two days later. He’d almost gone into the hotel room that night, but what would he have done? Taken her back to his house? Frankly, the woman had too much pride for that, so he let it go and tailed her ass the following morning, early enough to catch her before she left for work. She’d actually walked to work. And then she’d walked back to the hotel later that evening. Alone. With a potential stalker watching her. Nice. Real fucking nice.

The bad thing was, he’d actually been relieved that she wasn’t staying with some guy. He rolled his eyes. There was a lot wrong with that. It was wrong that not only did he care so damn much about her safety, but he was glad that she wasn’t living with some guy. He told himself that he only cared so much because of the case, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t true.

It was going to take a little more digging, given that most of the suspects were public figures. What he got wasn’t much. Only one woman had any contact information, and he’d fielded a return call from her this morning.

He briefly entertained the idea of calling Vanessa and checking in, but she hadn’t called him. And he really didn’t have a reason to be calling her other than…Well, other than hearing her voice, and if he called her for that reason, then he’d grown a vagina at some point.

He picked up his phone and called his boss instead. “Sorry to disturb you,” he began.

“No problem. It’s not like I’m doing much right now anyway. I was beginning to wonder when on earth you were going to check in,” Bobby Brown exclaimed. “Everything’s going to hell in a handbasket. Do you have a report?

Please tell me it will make me feel better.”

Since Christopher Wesley had been one of the main focuses of their undercover operation, Alaric wasn’t sure he could do that. Nonetheless, he filled his boss in on everything that had happened after Christopher had been gunned down.

“What about the wife?” Bobby asked. “Do you think she’s involved in her husband’s business operations?”

“She’s not.” Alaric didn’t even have to think about it, and honestly his response shocked him too. When Christopher died and he’d been put in charge of solving his murder case, he’d been convinced that Vanessa had something to do with it, but now he knew she didn’t, and it was weird because he hadn’t even known the woman for too long. The last thing he wanted was to make decisions because he was attracted to her. “They didn’t appear to have a close marriage, and they have been separated for a while,” he added.

“Keep watching her,” Bobby advised. “She might surprise you.”

“I will. Zack is sending up a few more guys from the club to help. I’m not sure what exactly he knows. He hasn’t told me.”

“Which makes me believe he might know the identity of the killer.”

“Exactly.” Alaric actually liked Zack. In his undercover role as club member, he’d actually found himself looking up to the older man. Unlike the stereotypical gang leader, Zack handled himself with intelligence and patience. He considered every angle before he acted and while he might be ruthless in his defense of those he loved-he thought of every Brother of Sin as his family- Alaric had seen him act with kindness and compassion too. While Alaric knew the others acted on his direction, to all appearances Zack kept his hands clean.

Initially, Zack had started the Brothers of Sin forty years ago as a simple motorcycle club. He’d been young and wild with only a used Harley to his name. He and three or four like-minded friends would meet up and go for long rides. Then BOS had grown, often in ways Zack hadn’t expected.