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“I’ll talk to Silvio again. We didn’t hash it out. The fire will distract him, which could work for us. At the very least, he’s a venue down. If the Carlyle’s deemed unsafe, he’ll have to find somewhere else for his women to work or his revenue will tank.”
“It’s more than a little sickening that women’s bodies are only valued for the income they can attract.”
Something else that had been the way since the dawn of time.
“And tonight accomplished something else.”
“What?”
“If the Carlyle was your victims’ jail, it’s been taken out from under the perps. Now they’re scrambling for a new base.” And possibly dragging the prisoners with them. “Fire will investigate the Carlyle, who knows what they’ll turn up.”
“Silvio Manzani will have the influence to silence officials.”
“Some of them, yeah. But maybe what they find is undeniable.”
“Like the charred remains of missing women? Do you know if anyone was seriously hurt or killed?”
“I think we’ll have to wait until the dust settles to know that. No offense, but the media can turn a tragedy into a circus. I’m betting your dad gets the truth before the rest of us.”
“He said he’d come over in the morning,” she said, her eyes closing. “Now I don’t know if I want him to.”
His digits lost themselves in her hair again. “Why?”
“What if Ford reacts or blows up about us? Can we handle both of them at once?”
“We can handle anything so long as we’re together,” he said. “Get some sleep. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. What wonders would the new day bring? Was she strong enough to face another day?
THIRTY-SEVEN
MORNING.
Oh, she shouldn’t be nervous about seeing her own brother. She’d have to play it cool, be calm. There couldn’t be a fight. They couldn’t face each other with hostility. Usually with Ford, if he was giving her shit, she’d give it right back or let it roll off. With his discovery of her relationship, deference was the word of the day. It wouldn’t be easy to let him jump on his high horse and judge her, but she’d take it to keep the peace… if that was even a possibility.
She’d woken up in Jagg’s bed alone. Alone! Wherever her guy was, it wasn’t in his room. Had he tried to head off the argument by getting in front of Ford first? Maybe. Maybe not. Screaming and ruckus hadn’t woken her. Hopefully, that was a good sign.
Whatever happened, Ford didn’t scare her. He’d never hurt her. Still, pushing her luck was a bad idea. Her clothes were in her bedroom, not Jagg’s. Shoot. If she went out in Jagg’s clothes or in nothing but a sheet, and Ford was there, it could inflame his opposition.
Last night’s clothes would have to do.
Maybe it was her imagination, but smoke hung in them. The scent was a harsh reminder of the previous night’s events. Not that smoke hounded her during their rescue. Maybe the smell hung in Jagg’s clothes rather than hers, that could be the source. He’d skimped on the details. How close had the fire come to him? How close had she come to losing him?
Despite worrying about her brother’s reaction to her relationship, her mind was clearer than it had been the previous night. Conclusions were still a ways off, but her determination had shifted.
The case would come after breakfast.
After all the mental build up, exiting Jagg’s bedroom was a huge anticlimax. The breakroom was vacant. Relief… or delaying the inevitable?
Huh.
Had everyone just gone on with their lives? No fights, no arguments, no face-off? Somehow that didn’t seem right.
At least the seclusion gave her a chance to shower. She walked out of the bathroom after cleansing herself still pondering.
Until she saw Jagg there in the kitchen.
“You…” she said, tucking her towel in as she marched over. “Left me in bed!”
