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What kind of idiot...?
Remembering the fire extinguisher, Tacey grabbed it and let loose, spraying everything in the store room until nothing came out. The breeze through the broken window blew smoke and fumes right back at her, making her cough. She dropped the now useless extinguisher and used the tea towel to cover her mouth and nose as she tried to wave away some of the noxious fumes so she could see.
It took twenty minutes of running every exhaust fan in the kitchen to air the place out before she dared to enter the store room again.
And gasped.
Wystan lay spread eagled on the floor, one wing in tatters like an umbrella that'd been through a hailstorm. He wasn't moving.
"Wystan? Are you all right?" she asked. Of course, she already knew the answer, but maybe, just maybe...
"Fine," he grumbled, rising up onto all fours before lumbering to his feet. Debris crunched under his hands and feet. No, broken glass, likely from the window. He turned around and...
Tacey had to look away. His pants had not survived the fire, either. She thrust the tea towel at him, though it wasn't likely to cover much more than the essentials, and barely even those.
There was that old bag of chef's whites in the bathroom that the previous owners had left behind. Something in there might fit him...
Tacey dug through it feverishly until she found a pair of pants and a shirt that would be big enough to cover his wings.
When she came back to hand him the clothes, though, she found him holding half a broken bottle.
"Someone started the fire by throwing a bottle of lamp oil through your window," he said.
Arson? Who would...
She barely had to think before she had her answer. Matt's lawyer friend had mentioned the café being a fire hazard waiting to happen. He must have heard it from Matt, who'd set out to deliberately burn the place down. He was going to take Rory from her, and her livelihood...hell, they both could have died in the fire.
Fuck Matt and the lawyer who busted him out of prison. He wasn't going to get away with this, either.
"I need to call the police," Tacey said.
THIRTY-THREE
"Who's this?"
When Tacey went back into the café, she found Ben staring intently at Wystan. Almost like he was sizing him up for a sketch. Or a fight, Tacey wasn't sure.
"This is Wystan. He's...here for additional security," Tacey said. Probably not the best thing to say to her artist in residence cum security guard. "And to help out in the kitchen." She probably should have said that in the first place, what with him wearing chef's whites and all.
But Ben didn't seem to be offended at all. He just nodded thoughtfully. "How long have you been in the protection business, Wystan?"
Almost like he already knew him. But that wasn't possible...was it?
"He's been helping me out for about a week now," Tacey said.
More nodding. "So what's he protecting you from?"
Tacey felt her cheeks grow hot. "Nothing you need to worry about. I wouldn't want you and Rochelle mixed up in any of this."
"You helped put the fire out?" Ben asked.
Wystan nodded. "It's safe now. I should help clean up..."
"No! We have to wait for the police. Forensics, maybe," Tacey said.
"I'll go wait in the car, then," Wystan said.
"Can I go with him, Mummy?" Rory asked.
