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Passion Ignited
But only six months after opening, the restaurant had gone up in flames.
Torched by the arsonist.
And two weeks after that, her father had his near fatal heart attack.
Gabrielle pulled into the driveway of her parents’ home. She looked at the house where she had spent her happiest years. And wiped the tears from her eyes.
As she made her way to the door, she looked at the wood exterior that her father had repainted just last year. A mix of blues and yellows gave the house a cheery feel. How ironic that inside, so much sadness existed.
Gabrielle rang the doorbell. A minute later, it opened, and her mother smiled at her. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Mom,” Gabrielle said. She stepped into the house and put her arms around her mother. She held her tightly, noticing that her mother seemed to shake beneath her touch.
“How’s Daddy?” Gabrielle asked.
“He’s hanging in there, but he’s the same.”
Meaning he was depressed. Gabrielle didn’t know if he was more upset about the heart attack, or the restaurant burning down.
“He’s upstairs?”
“Yes,” her mother answered.
Ever since the heart attack, they had adjusted their master bedroom so that he could be comfortable in it and not have to move around too much. Before that, he used to love to spend time in his man cave. With her and Grace gone, her father had taken over the den. He had put a huge-screen TV in there so he could watch his favorite sports up close.
But since the heart attack, he had been spending more time in bed. Part of the reason was that he had an oxygen tank he had to use for several hours, and it was set up beside the bed. Due to his heart disease, the doctors believed his body was not getting enough oxygen, so he had been prescribed oxygen therapy.
Gabrielle had made sure that her parents had a bigger TV in the bedroom. She’d also helped her mother order a bed that could be adjusted so that her father could sit upright. Gabrielle hated to see him stay in bed all day, because to her it seemed as though he was giving up.
Gabrielle wandered through the house to the back that led up to the split-level. Her parents’ bedroom was the first one on the left. Gabrielle knocked softly, then pushed the door open.
“Daddy?” she called out.
“Come in, darling.”
Gabrielle stepped into the room, saw her father sitting upright in the bed. He looked exactly the same as he had the last time she had visited. A knit bedspread was thrown across his lap. His head rested on a pillow. The oxygen tubes connected to his nose.
Gabrielle’s heart ached. Her father looked so darn frail. His face was worn, and his eyes were glum. Gabrielle hated this.
She walked over to her father and leaned down to give him a hug and a kiss. “Hey, Daddy.”
He offered her a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hi, Gabby.”
Gabrielle eased onto the bed beside her father. “How’re you feeling today?”
He made a sour face. “I hate all this crap I have to eat and drink.”
He gestured to the right, and Gabrielle looked on the table beside the bed. There was a tray with congealed oatmeal, a banana and a cup of nuts. “You’re not eating?”
“Not that stuff.” He made a face. “I made your mother get me real food.”
“And what was that?” Gabrielle asked.
“Pizza.” He smiled. “From that pizza place I like down the street.”
“Daddy,” Gabrielle said, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. She knew exactly why her father liked that food. It was greasy and delicious—and exactly the kind of food her father had been told to stay away from. “You know you’re supposed to cut out the fatty foods.”
“He thinks vegetables and food cooked with less butter is torture.”
At the sound of her mother’s voice, Gabrielle looked over her shoulder. Her mother stepped into the room. “I’ve been trying to get him to follow the doctor’s advice, but you see him. He’s wasting away to nothing. I have to feed him.”
“I know,” Gabrielle said. Though she wished her mother wouldn’t cave to her father’s demands. Eventually, he would have to eat what was in front of him if she didn’t give him an alternative.
“I need you to get better, Daddy.”
“I want this arsonist caught,” her father said, speaking passionately. “That’s what’s going to make me better. He took away my livelihood.”
Her father made a pained expression and tried to adjust his body in the bed. Gabrielle’s mother quickly hurried to his side. “Joe, you can’t do this. You can’t get yourself worked up.”
“That man took away our livelihood! Our dream!”
Gabrielle took her father’s hand in hers. “Daddy, you’ve got to take it easy. Do you want to give yourself another heart attack?”
He frowned, and huffed. But he didn’t say a word.
Gabrielle squeezed her father’s hand. “I’m working on finding out who did this.” She looked at her mother briefly before looking at her father again. “I was close yesterday. Real close. You heard about the fire last night? Well, I was there. And I saw someone in the crowd, and—”
“You what?” her mother asked.
“I went to the scene of the fire. I wanted to look at the people, see if someone there seemed suspicious.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Gina uttered.
“I know I saw him,” Gabrielle pressed on. “It was dark, but I tried to get a few pictures. Then, when he was leaving, I tried to follow him.”
“Gabby,” her father chastised. “You can’t be doing that.”
“There were a lot of people there. I was fine.”
“I don’t want you getting yourself hurt,” her father scolded.
She thought of Omar, how he had echoed the same concern. Gabrielle offered her father a brave smile. “I won’t get hurt. I promise you.” She paused. “What matters to me is that I get this situation fixed for you.”
“You always think you can fix things, don’t you,” Joe said. “But, Gabby, you can’t. Some things you need to let the authorities handle.”
“I hate seeing you like this,” Gabrielle said to her father. “All the stress of what happened... I just want you to get better.”
“You want me to get better, get me a chocolate fudge sundae.”
“You’ve already had pizza today,” Gabrielle said. “That’s enough veering from your diet for one day.”
“Joe.” Gina shook her head with disdain. “You know you can’t have a chocolate fudge sundae.”
Joe scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. “It wasn’t my diet that did this to me. It was the stress.”
Gabrielle figured it was a bit of both. But mostly the stress. To lose your life’s work in a flash and for no good reason was exactly why she was determined to make things right for her father. She wanted to see the light in his eyes again. And in her mother’s. She couldn’t walk into this house and feel this cloud of negativity hanging over all of them for much longer.
“Gabby,” Gina began. “Can you come to the kitchen with me for a moment?”
Joe looked at Gina with suspicion. “What’s going on?”
“I just want to talk to Gabby about dinner.”
“Rib eye,” Joe said as Gabrielle and her mother began to walk out of the room. “With some mac and cheese. Or maybe fries and gravy.”
Gabrielle looked over her shoulder at her father. She shook her head. “Not tonight.”
“Then a T-bone,” Joe called as Gabrielle and her mother stepped into the hallway.
Gina turned toward her daughter. “Do you see what I have to deal with? It’s so hard. I try to make him healthy meals, and he acts like I’m trying to poison him. I made him some quinoa last night, and a beautiful garden salad. He threatened to go on a hunger strike.”
Gabrielle groaned. “He’s acting like a petulant child. Good grief, he knows you’re trying to keep him alive.”
Gina linked arms with Gabrielle and walked with her toward the staircase. “Can you go to the store and pick up some groceries for me? I hate to leave him here alone. The last time I left, I came back and found him downstairs eating ice cream from the tub.”
“What I can do is help you clear out the fridge,” Gabrielle said. Her father wasn’t an invalid. Sure, he was staying in bed a lot to rest, but he was smart enough to know that when her mother left the house, it was his opportunity to raid the fridge for the foods he really liked. “You can’t have any bad stuff in the house if you don’t want him to eat it.”
“Later, I will clean out the fridge and cupboards of all the junk,” Gina said. “In fact, I’ll do it tonight.”
Gabrielle doubted it. It was hard to see someone you loved beg for something and deny them. She was probably keeping the cookies and treats in the house, knowing that at some point she was going to have to placate her husband.
Her mother could no doubt use some help. Another person here to help alleviate the stress.
“Have you spoken to Grace?” Gabrielle asked.
“She says she can’t get away,” Gina said, answering the question Gabrielle hadn’t even asked.
Gabrielle gritted her teeth. Her mother was always ready with excuses for Grace. Grace could never get away. Not unless it was something she wanted to do.
“Is she working?” Gabrielle asked.
“Not right now.”
“So it would be perfect timing for her to come here and spend some time with you and Daddy,” Gabrielle pointed out.
“I’m sure she’s going to come here as soon as she can. She loves your father.”
This wasn’t about Grace not loving her father. This was about Grace being selfish. She’d been raised as a spoiled kid, and had always felt that the world revolved around her. Now her father had had a life-threatening heart attack and she didn’t even have the decency to come see him? What if he had a second heart attack and died?
Gabrielle prayed that didn’t happen, but there were no guarantees in life. And with her father determined to eat a diet that would kill him... You just never knew.
“It’s not like we haven’t heard from her,” Gina said. “She’s called, spoken to your father.”
“Isn’t that nice?” Gabrielle said sarcastically. “She should get on a plane and come down here. Portland isn’t on the other side of the world.”
“Don’t be so hard on your sister,” Gina said.
“You always defend her, Mom,” Gabrielle said, exasperated. “But she’s never here when we need her.”
Gabrielle refrained from pointing out that her parents had always been there when Grace needed them. Grace had had one financial disaster after another in her life, and had always called her parents when she needed help picking up the pieces. While Gabrielle had adopted her parents’ work ethic, her sister had not. Whenever she had money, she spent it carelessly. She liked to party, and even do the occasional recreational drug.
Though maybe it was more than occasional. That would certainly explain why she could never hold down a steady job.
“She got fired from her last job,” Gina said.
“So she has no money,” Gabrielle said. Of course, she added silently. Her sister could never keep a job. It wasn’t the first time she’d been fired. And it wouldn’t be the last. Grace liked to stay up late, and sleep in late. Which only proved her to be unreliable. Employers wanted to know that you would get up in the morning and go to work consistently.
But when you had Mommy and Daddy bailing you out all the time...
Gabrielle knew this wasn’t the time to get into Grace’s situation with her mother. So all Gabrielle said was, “Well, hopefully she finds another job and gets herself down here to see Dad.”
“Will you go and pick up the groceries for me?” Gina asked.
Gabrielle put an arm around her mother. “Of course.”
This was so hard on her mother, and she could see it in her eyes. If only Grace would come back home to help her parents out and ease the stress on their mother.
As Gabrielle descended the stairs with her mother, she tried to push Grace out of her mind. It hurt thinking about her sister. So many disappointments... She and her sister were not even on speaking terms anymore.
Grace had stopped talking to her because Gabrielle had refused to give her more money. The first few times Grace had called her in crisis, Gabrielle had lent her money. And when she hadn’t gotten it back, she’d been okay with it. In her heart, she wanted to believe the best about her sister. Grace’s hard-luck stories were always compelling. This or that bad thing had happened to her. Eventually, it became clear to Gabrielle that Grace had been making excuses.
She had a safety net. And it was the family.
So when Gabrielle had told her she would not give her any more money the last time she had called, Grace had been livid. She hadn’t spoken to her since. Not truly spoken to her anyway. Gabrielle had seen her at the occasional family get-together, and Grace had always been distant and cold.
“Sweetheart?”
Her mother’s voice pulled Gabrielle from her thoughts. “Yes?”
“This is a list I made. And here’s some money.” She stuffed several bills into Gabrielle’s palm.
“I don’t need the money,” Gabrielle said. “I can certainly buy my parents some groceries.”
“I don’t know what I would do without you,” Gina said and smiled.
“And I don’t know what I would do without you and Daddy,” Gabrielle said.
It was why she was determined to see the arsonist caught.
Because only then might some normality return to her family.
Chapter 5
“Thank you so much for coming in today,” Gabrielle said to her guest, as she was packing up the clothes she had displayed on Your Hour. Cindy Holjak had been the last segment for today, and she had enthusiastically shown various scarves and skirts and blouses made by women in South America. All of the profit went to the women in South America, as a way to help them better their lives. It was all about empowering women in impoverished countries.
“Thank you,” Cindy said. “Anytime I get to talk about this initiative, I’m grateful. This is really changing a lot of women’s lives.”
As Cindy continued to pack up her bags, Gabrielle retreated to the small kitchen outside the studio doors. She needed coffee.
She had stayed with her parents for a good while last night, not wanting to leave them. Her mother needed the company, she knew. Her father just wasn’t the same. He was bitter, miserable. Constantly complaining about the food he had to eat. So she knew that her mother appreciated a change of pace.
Gabrielle had gotten home late, and then had not been able to sleep well. She kept thinking about her father, and how he had changed so drastically.
And all she wanted to do was be able to help him. To turn back the clock to the time before the arsonist struck.
She couldn’t turn back the clock, but she could make a difference. She’d put a call in to Stacy Jackson from Channel 10 news earlier. Their team had been out videoing footage of the fire. Gabrielle was hoping that she could take a look at the footage, and see if the arsonist was anywhere in there. The first order of business when she got into her office was to check emails and her phone messages.
Her cup of coffee in hand, Gabrielle exited the small kitchen and made her way toward her office. She rounded the corner into the main reception area, then stopped dead in her tracks.
She blinked, trying to make sure that she wasn’t imagining things.
“He’s been waiting here for an hour,” Renée the receptionist said.
Gabrielle’s heart was pounding. Omar Ewing was there. Again.
“What—what are you doing here?”
“He said he wants to see you,” Renée went on when Omar said nothing.
He stood up and smiled. He was wearing jeans and a white dress shirt and looked especially fine.
Gabrielle started toward the door that led to the main offices. “I thought I told you to call and set up an appointment,” she said, trying to hide her irritation for Renée’s benefit. “I’m certain I didn’t tell you to just drop by.”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
Sure you were, Gabrielle thought sourly. Then she turned to Renée. “Let me know when my 2:00 appointment gets here.”
Renée said, “Your 2:00?” She looked confused. “I didn’t realize—”
Gabrielle shot her a narrowed gaze, and Renée caught on. “Oh. Of course. That’s right, I forgot all about that appointment.”
Gabrielle pushed through the door, and Omar followed her. She walked swiftly to the second door on the left, which was her office. When she stepped inside, she continued to her desk. She put her clipboard and coffee down and picked up her phone.
“What do you want, Mr. Ewing?”
“I really wish you would call me Omar.”
“Whatever. Why are you here?”
“Why are you so hostile toward me?” Omar took a step toward her, and her body tensed. His large, muscular frame filled the room. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“I’m not being hostile.”
His eyes widened. “Could have fooled me.”
Gabrielle sighed softly. “It’s just that I have a lot to do. And you keep showing up. It’s a little annoying.”
“Ouch.”
Gabrielle closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” She needed to get ahold of herself. “I’m not trying to be rude. It’s just... I do have a lot of work to do.”
“And one of those things is finding the arsonist,” Omar stated. “Clearly, it’s something you’re passionate about. As a firefighter, I assure you that I’m passionate about that as well. So why don’t we sit down and put our collective heads together and see what we can come up with. Maybe there’s something you saw, something I saw...we both might have pieces of the puzzle that can help solve this.”
It was an entirely reasonable request, and yet Gabrielle wanted to say no. But did saying no make sense? Omar had a good point. Between what he knew, and what she thought she knew, maybe they could finally nab the arsonist.
Which was what she wanted most in the world.
She just wished she could accomplish this without spending any more time with Omar.
“What are you doing tonight?” Omar asked.
Gabrielle’s eyes bulged. Then she chuckled mirthlessly. “So you’re asking me out to dinner again?”
“I was hoping you reconsidered.”
Gabrielle picked up her coffee and took a sip. She needed this. Her temples were already throbbing, and she didn’t need the added distraction of Omar Ewing.
“So, what do you say?” Omar asked. “Dinner’s on me, of course.”
“I have a terrible headache, and a ton of work to do—”
“Which is why you could use a break,” Omar interjected. He glanced around her office. “This place is dull. Uninspiring. No wonder you have a headache. It’s no place to have a meeting.”
Good Lord, would he never give up?
“Pick the place, 6:00.”
“Is that what works for you?” Gabrielle asked. “You give orders, and women just have to obey?”
He took another step toward her, and her heart began to race. “Consider it the doctor’s orders,” he said. “Because you look like you could use a prescription for fun.”
“Fun! I thought you said this is about work.”
“See—look how you reacted when I said the word fun. It’s as though it’s foreign to you. Yes, this is about work. But it’s also about perhaps, enjoying each other’s company...”
Gabrielle frowned. The problem was, she got the feeling that if she didn’t say yes, Omar wouldn’t go away. He was like a dog with a bone, unable to give up.
“Fine,” she said.
His eyes lit up, and something about that made her stomach tickle. The idea that he wanted to go out with her appealed to the part of her that irrationally found him attractive.
“6:00?”
“6:00 is fine,” Gabrielle said. “And you want me to choose the restaurant? Okay. There is a place on Elm Street. Italian.”
“Or what about that soul food place? It’s also on Elm. The play good music.”
Gabrielle was about to point out that he had suggested she choose the place, but she didn’t bother. “If that’s what you want—”
“No, you’re right,” Omar said. “The Italian place will be quieter, more intimate.”
Her eyes widened at the word intimate. “Do I have to reiterate that this is not a date?”
“It’s a working date. And a place that’s quieter is a better spot to talk. Especially given what we will be talking about.”
“Oh. Of course.”
The office phone rang, and Gabrielle could see that it was from Renée’s extension. She picked up. “Gabrielle Leonard.”
“It’s 1:55,” Renée said. “There’s no one here. What do you want me to do?”
“Okay so he’s been delayed by ten minutes? That’s fine. There are some things I need to do before he gets here anyway,” Gabrielle said into the phone, making her story up as she went along. “Thank you, Renée.”
“Your appointment is delayed?” Omar asked.
“Yes, but I still have a ton of things to do before he gets here. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“You’re not going to stand me up tonight, are you?” Omar asked.
It was tempting. Very much so. But Gabrielle knew that if she stood him up, he would just come back another day.
“No. 6:00. I’ll meet you there.”
* * *
Omar was smiling from ear to ear as he left the Cable Four studio building. Finally, Gabrielle was going to go on a date with him.
Well, not a date... Not according to her. But according to him, it was. She might be giving him the cold shoulder, but the heat between them was undeniable. In a setting where she could be relaxed, have a glass of wine, he was certain that her icy facade would melt.
Omar’s charm had never failed him before. He didn’t expect it to now.
As he reached his late-model BMW SUV, his cell phone rang. Omar dug it out of his pocket and saw Kelly Knight’s face was flashing on his screen.
He made a face, wondering why she was calling him. She was a police detective, and he knew she was working the case of the arsonist. But any official business she had was with arson investigators, not him.
“Hello?” Omar said into the telephone.
“Hey, sexy.”
“What’s up?” Omar asked, keeping his tone businesslike.
About a year ago, he and Kelly had been involved. Their liaison had been brief and casual. Afterward, there had been no hurt feelings, and they’d remained casual friends. He and Kelly spoke only rarely these days, when work required it. Except for the occasional text, which was usually some sort of joke she was passing along.
“I was just wondering what you were doing later,” Kelly said.
“Meeting a friend for dinner,” Omar replied.
“Oh.” Kelly sounded disappointed.
Omar’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t called him to get together in... Well, in a year.
“Why? Something up?”
“I was just hoping that you had some time. Maybe we could do something.”
Where was this coming from? “Sorry. I don’t.”
“All right. I was feeling a little...frisky.” She laughed airily.
“Oh.” So that’s why she was calling.
“When you get some time, call me,” she said, her tone definitely suggestive. Then she hung up.
Omar walked the rest of the way to his car, thinking that if this had been any other time, he would have definitely taken Kelly up on her offer. Especially given that it had been a few months since he had been intimate with a woman. A dry spell for him—at least that’s what the guys at the station would say. But lately, he had tired of meaningless relationships. Scratching an itch wasn’t as fun anymore when he barely had two words to say to the woman in the morning.
Maybe that meant he was getting old. Maybe that meant he was getting lame.
Or maybe, it had just been that he had grown uninspired.
Until now.
No, he would not be calling Kelly at any point to take her up on her offer. The only woman he was interested in getting to know right now was the beautiful Gabrielle Leonard.
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