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She took in a deep breath and made her decision. “He has sworn to kill me.”
FOUR (#ulink_cf87fa77-43b9-580c-9a87-fccac59475ec)
Logan had a feeling he was in over his head. Not just with his personal feelings toward Mallory, but with this whole business regarding Brock Dennison, too. It wasn’t as if he was a fan of the popular newscaster. Although some of his female firefighters seemed to be. Something about that meticulously groomed guy with the blond hair and flashy smile had always felt a little phony to him. And he found it hard to believe that Mallory had actually been involved with someone like that.
He also found it unbelievable that Brock Dennison had the nerve to threaten someone’s life, much less commit arson, but he could tell by Mallory’s face that it was true. Or, at the very least, she believed it was true. But facts were facts. There had been a fire, and Mallory had received a threatening text related to fire. Those two things were real enough. But getting the whole story, well, he didn’t think it was going to be easy.
“So, Brock Dennison swore to kill you?” he repeated her words back to her, writing them down as he spoke. “Can you please elaborate?”
“The truth is he said it more than once. The first time he said it, he was really mad at me,” she began slowly. “And although it caught me by surprise, I didn’t take it too seriously. Or literally. You know how people say stupid things in the heat of the moment. I honestly didn’t think he was going to kill me. I mean, Brock has a short fuse about some things. He can come across as a really nice guy, and then he’ll turn on you.”
“Right...so let’s be clear. Do you think Brock is capable of violence?” Logan studied her closely. She looked so frail and tired, as if she were close to breaking. And yet she looked beautiful, too. He could tell that beneath all this, there was a quality of strength in her. “Mallory?” He reached out to gently squeeze her hand. “Is Brock capable of violence?”
“Yes,” she quietly confessed. “He is. I know he is.”
“Has he hurt you before?”
She simply nodded, staring down at her hands as if embarrassed. And maybe it was humiliating—telling someone she barely knew about the intimate details of a past relationship. A part of him felt slightly voyeuristic for pressing her like this. But for the most part, he just wanted to help her. How could he help her if she didn’t tell him the truth? He wished she could just trust him.
“I know this isn’t easy,” he said gently. “But remember this is an investigation. And, really, you can trust me. But I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Okay.” She sighed. “Maybe I should start at the beginning.”
“That would help a lot.”
“I guess it started last winter...actually it was even sooner than that. Not our dating, but the relationship. For some reason, I caught Brock’s eye early on in my internship. I can’t even imagine why. I mean, other girls were constantly flirting with him. I never did. I was all about work. I took my internship seriously. I took newswriting seriously. I honestly don’t understand why Brock went after me, but he did.”
“I think I understand why.” Logan sighed. “For starters, you’re a beautiful girl, Mallory. You’re also very intelligent. And you have a sweet spirit. That’s a rather attractive package, don’t you think?”
She blinked in surprise, but said nothing.
“Seriously.” He rubbed his chin. “Combine those qualities with the fact that you were focused on work—not flirting—well, that probably made you seem even more attractive. Kinda like playing hard to get.”
“I wasn’t playing—”
“I know. But you get what I’m saying. Some guys like the challenge.”
She frowned. “I guess so. Anyway, Brock was intent on dating me. For nearly a year, I brushed him off. I didn’t want anything to mess up my internship or my chances of getting hired. But he was relentless. Finally, after I was hired, I told him that I thought there were rules against dating in the workplace.” She shrugged. “But Brock assured me that dating was acceptable. He pointed out others who were happily involved.” She pushed a strand of dark hair away from her face. “Come to think of it, he even insinuated that dating him could help my position. But, honestly, that wasn’t my motivation. And Brock is very persuasive and the truth is that, back then, I found him charming and attractive. And, even though I’d been pushing him away, I have to admit I was flattered by the attention. I finally gave in at Christmastime last year. I agreed to go on one date with him. You’d think I’d given him the moon.”
Logan nodded. A real date with Mallory would feel like a gift to him, too. If it turned out that she was being honest with him. Somehow he felt she was. “So you started dating him about six or seven months ago?” he prodded.
“Well, we weren’t really dating. It was one date. We went to a fund-raiser thing right after Christmas. Our next date—because he talked me into it—was on New Year’s Eve.” She paused to think. “We went out a few times after that, but we didn’t really become a couple—well, not in my eyes, anyway—until Valentine’s Day.”
“Uh-huh?”
Mallory frowned. “Am I boring you? I mean, do you really need all this for your investigation?”
He shrugged. “Maybe...if it turns out that Brock really has something to do with the fire, it could be helpful.”
She stared blankly across the room, as if trying to remember what she’d been saying. “Okay...so, anyway, I was totally honest with Brock right from the start. I told him that I was an old-fashioned girl and that I wanted to take things slowly. I figured that would turn him off because I knew he had a reputation for being a ladies’ man. I thought it would send him running.”
“But it didn’t?”
“No. Looking back, I actually think he saw it as a challenge, like he could make me change.”
“That makes sense.” Logan tried to listen impartially, pretending not to be rankled by what he was hearing as she continued to talk about the early days of their dating relationship. It sounded as if Brock had done all the expected things—he gave her flowers and gifts, took her out regularly.
“But sometimes it seemed his attentions were as much for him as they were for me,” she explained. “Sort of like he wanted to show off. Like it was always important that I would receive roses at work and he expected me to display them on my desk for a couple of days so that all the girls could see them. They would ooh and aah and act jealous.” She clenched her fists in her lap. “What they didn’t know was that Brock was becoming more and more controlling of me. He would tell me what to wear on a date. How to act and talk and walk. Like I was his little robot girlfriend. And if I questioned him, he would get irked. And the more we dated, the more intense it became. If I didn’t comply, or if I questioned him, he could get really angry.”
“Did he ever hit you?”
She pursed her lips. “Not exactly hit per se. But sometimes he would shove me really hard. You know, like up against a wall. I got a lump on the back of my head more than once. And if he was really angry, he’d pin me against a wall, shouting into my face.”
“That’s terrible. I can’t believe you’d put up with that.”
“Believe me, the first time he was abusive, I was ready to leave. But he was so apologetic and broken up over it the next day. He swore it would never happen again. I gave him a second chance and he kept his word...for a while.”
“And then?”
“It started up again. After a couple of weeks, he lost his temper with me again. He told me he was stressed over work and that he was really sorry. And I stupidly rationalized that it was a one-time thing—even though it wasn’t the first time.” She shook her head. “But the next time it happened, there was no real excuse. And it felt even more intense than the others—and hateful. It was like someone pulled his trigger and he went off. Well, I guess I pulled his trigger. But the way he apologized afterwards, the way he brought me flowers and candy to work...well, it made me think this might be a pattern with him. Like maybe he’d done it before—in other relationships.”
“Did you ask him about that?”
“I did. I’d done some research on domestic and dating violence for a news piece I was working on. And it was like reading about Brock. Like the writing was on the wall. When I confronted him with my findings and asked him about his past relationships, he got defensive and indignant. Somehow he made it look like I was the one with the problem. Like I had stepped over some line.”
“But you still didn’t dump the jerk?”
“I was seriously getting ready to, but based on what I’d read, I felt like I needed to do it carefully. I worked out this plan where I thought I was going to slowly cut him loose. Distancing myself, ignoring his calls. But he showed up at my apartment one night, demanding to know what was wrong. I admitted I was done, and he got enraged. He grabbed me and wrapped his hands around my neck like he was going to strangle me.” She shuddered. “He told me he could kill me—he said it would be easy.”
Logan felt a wave a shock run through him. “So you broke it off then?”
She nodded. “That was in late May.”
“And how did he handle that?”
“He was furious. And for a while he was actually stalking me. He kept his eye on me at work. One time I caught him reading something on my computer. I’d spy him driving by my apartment complex occasionally. And he’d leave me lots of text messages, saying how much he loved me and telling me that I’d come back to him eventually. Really creepy. But at work he acted like he was the one to break it off with me, and he started a rumor that we were getting back together. It was weird.”
“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “Sounds weird to me, too.”
“So...anyway... I’ve been apprehensive of him for quite a while. And then...well, just this week, I became downright fearful.”
The sound of someone knocking on the front door made Mallory jump toward him, clutching Logan’s arm with a look of real terror. But it seemed like such an extreme reaction that Logan wasn’t sure it really matched what she’d just told him. Certainly she should be worried about being threatened by someone. But this fear seemed deeper, so much so that Logan wondered if she had told him everything.
“It’s just TJ,” he assured her as he looked out the window. “One of my firefighters.” He hurried to open the door.
“Something out here you should see, Chief.” TJ jerked his thumb over a shoulder. “We think we found the cause of the fire.”
“Human?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” Logan returned to where Mallory was still huddled in a corner of the couch and, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, he peered intently into her eyes. “I know you’ve been through some sort of serious ordeal, Mallory. And I want to hear the whole story, but I really think you need to get some rest first. Are you going to be okay here? Or do you want to go to town and—”
“I’ll be fine here,” she assured him.
Logan was uncertain.
“Go ahead, find out about the fire stuff,” she told him. “Really, I’ll be okay.”
“Maybe so. But I think I’ll just stick around the place while you’re resting.”
“You don’t need to do that.” But even as she said this, her eyes said something different. Her eyes seemed to be pleading with him to stay. And that’s what he intended to do.
“It’ll take a while for me to complete my investigation,” he assured her. “Long enough for you to have a good long nap. At least a few hours. And by then I’ll have more questions for you.” He held up his cell phone. “Let’s exchange numbers. Just in case you need to call me while I’m out there poking around.”
“Okay...” As she recited the numbers, her voice sounded groggy. Hopefully she’d be able to get some sleep now. He could tell she needed it.
“I’ll be outside, walking around the property, looking for additional clues and taking some photos, but I can be back in here within minutes if you need me.” He peered into her half-open eyes. “Okay?”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” She leaned back into the couch as if she was about to nod off.
“I need you to lock the doors after I go outside,” he explained.
She nodded with a look of realization. “Of course. Thank you.”
He led her to the front door and, after he exited, listened as she clicked the dead bolt into place. He wasn’t certain that she needed to take such precautionary measures, but at the same time he wasn’t certain that she didn’t. And if the rest of the evidence supported his suspicion of arson, it really did make this place a crime scene. In that case, he couldn’t be too careful. In fact, it was possible that the criminal was still nearby. Logan wished he’d brought his gun. Because he suddenly felt more than just a little protective of this woman. There was no way that Brock Dennison—or anyone—was going to hurt her. If they did, they’d have to go through him first.
FIVE (#ulink_ba3f6001-92f5-5b93-91e9-b2ffd11e73c2)
It was almost noon when Mallory woke up. It took her a moment to realize where she was—and even then she couldn’t remember why she was sleeping in her parents’ king-size bed. But then it hit her... Kestra’s murder...fleeing to here for safety. For some reason that all seemed further away now. Perhaps it was from getting some sleep or from the cheerful sunshine pouring through the big slider window. It was very comforting and almost made her feel safe. Remembering that Logan was still here added to her a sense of security. At least, she hoped he was still here. It had been hours.
As she went into the living room, she felt a rush of fear—what if Brock was here, too? What if he really was the one who’d set the fire? Or, even worse, what if he’d hurt Logan while she was sleeping? Her heart began pounding with fear as she peered out the window. The Clover Fire Chief pickup was still parked in the driveway, which meant Logan hadn’t left. But where was he?
With some trepidation, she stepped outside onto the front porch and glanced around, hoping to spot Logan. But he was nowhere in sight and, despite the warm sunshine, a chill ran through her. What if Brock was here? What if he’d found Logan? She hated to imagine what Brock might do if he knew that Logan was helping her. With trembling hands she pulled out her phone and located Logan’s number. As she listened to it ring, she wondered what she’d do if something had happened to him. In just a few short hours Logan McDaniel had become very dear to her. Despite her paranoia, she trusted him now. Even more reason for Brock to hate him.
She heard the crunching of underbrush and turned to peer into the tall ponderosa pine trees, squinting through the shadows and light, trying to see what had made that noise. She knew it could be an animal, but her instincts reminded her that it could be human, too.
“Answer the phone,” she whispered frantically as she moved closer to the front door.
To her relief, Logan answered with a cheerful “Hello.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said suddenly.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced over to where she’d heard the noise, trying to slow down her pounding heart. “Anyway, I’m awake now,” she said nervously. “I know you wanted to finish questioning me about the fire...and stuff.”
“Great,” he told her. “I’ll be back there in a few minutes.”
After she said goodbye, she hurried back inside, locking the door again. She knew she was probably overreacting. Or maybe not. Would she ever stop second-guessing her every move? To distract herself, she focused her thoughts on Logan and suddenly decided that she wanted to put her best foot forward. Grabbing up her purse, she hurried into the master bathroom and peered into the brightly lit mirror. There probably wasn’t much she could do about the strained look on her face or the shadows beneath her eyes, but she made sure she didn’t have drool marks on her chin before she applied some lip gloss and mascara. She was just finishing when she heard a loud knocking on the front door. The sound made her jump, but reminding herself it was Logan, she hurried to let him in.
“Did you check out the window to see who was at the door before you unlocked it?” Logan paused to secure the dead bolt after he closed the door.
“No, I didn’t think of that,” she admitted.
“Well, you probably should,” he said in a somber tone.
“Meaning?” She studied him closely, wondering if—like her—he was becoming aware of the potential danger.
“Meaning that fire was definitely arson. And it’s different from the other arson fires I’ve investigated recently. None were set this close to a house. Plus the incendiary device doesn’t match.” His expression was very serious. “I think you’re right to be concerned for your safety, Mallory.”
Strangely enough, she didn’t feel nearly as worried as she’d felt before. Maybe it was because he seemed concerned, or simply because he was here with her. It was easy to be frightened when she was alone in the dark of night. But somehow, with the sun shining and seeing Logan in front of her, tall and strong and handsome, and acting so protective of her...it changed things. It was just what she needed. Well, that and some food. Her stomach rumbled loudly as if to confirm this.
“You hungry?” He pointed to her midsection.
She gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess so. I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate. I think it was yesterday morning...a stale donut.”
“That’s not good.” He grimaced. “I’m getting hungry, too.”
“I wish I could offer you something here, but my efficient mother cleaned out her fridge before they left. Although there’s always the pantry. There’s always something in there. Soup or—”
“Let’s get out of here,” he said suddenly. “Let’s go to town. Let me take you to lunch, Mallory.”
Even though this hadn’t been her original plan—she’d wanted to lie low for the whole weekend—she couldn’t say no to him. To be fair, she’d probably agree to almost anything he suggested. Something about this guy—maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was his smile, maybe it was his fire chief badge—made her feel safe with him.
Logan suggested she ride with him and, once again, she agreed. “Will you run the siren?” she teased as he opened the passenger door for her.
He laughed. “I can if you want.”
She waved her hand. “That’s okay. No need to draw unnecessary attention.”
As he drove to town, he asked her some rather general questions about Brock. She could tell by his tone that he was having difficulty believing that the popular Channel Six newscaster would have sneaked over here and ignited a forest fire. And who could blame him? In the light of a warm summer’s day, it sounded preposterous—even to her.
Even so, he did appear convinced that something was seriously amiss. “It doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me,” he said as they came into town, “that you received that threat shortly after the fire was set. I’m not sure what’s going on, Mallory, but I’d like to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, I’m not sure that it’s safe for you to be at your parents’ house. Do you have anyone in town you can stay with?”
She considered this. “I can’t think of anyone offhand...” She suddenly remembered the break-in at her apartment...the image of Kestra on the bathroom floor...and all feelings of safety evaporated. “I’m not sure I like the idea of staying with someone...putting them in danger, too.” Her earlier hopefulness seeped away, replaced with apprehension and fear.
“You okay?” he asked as he turned onto Main Street.
“Uh, yeah...just thinking.”
“About Brock?”
“Sort of.” Mallory felt uneasy at the realization that she still hadn’t told Logan about what happened to Kestra. How did one begin to tell something so horrendous? Even talking to the detectives yesterday had been difficult. As devastated as she was for Kestra, Mallory wished there were a way to just purge the whole thing from her mind. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about it to Logan—to confess that she was considered a suspect. But he needed to hear the whole story. It was only fair.
“You mentioned that you, uh, you don’t watch the Portland news much,” she said carefully as he pulled up to The Lone Pine Diner. “But you probably have some news sources, right? You read it online...or in the newspaper?”
“Sure.” He waited as a car exited a space in front of the restaurant. “It’s not like I live under a stone.” He chuckled as he pulled into the space. “Well, some people might think I do. But, yeah, I try to keep up. Although I’ve been pretty absorbed with these arson investigations this week. I’m probably behind on current events.”