Perfect Fit (22 page)

Julianne noted the landscaping was coming along well. When the building came into view, she smiled. She stopped along the drive to get a feel for how it looked at a distance. Exiting her Espresso Black Nissan Armada Platinum, Julianne stretched, then brushed her hands over her burnt orange skirt and smoothed her pale orange shirt.

She reached into the vehicle to grab her cell, notebook and spring jacket, but returned that to the seat, deciding that the night was warm enough and she could go without it. Slamming the door, she turned to look at the building once again.

The large, six-floor structure looked beautiful in the night. The stone face gave it an edgy yet comfortable feel. An arched entrance spread mid-way on either side along the first floor and front of the building was made of natural stone mixed with pieces of coloured, cut glass. They’d designed the entryway so that it would be large enough for the flow of traffic in and out of the building. Although a different set-up than the main building for their company, everything in this new, spacious and modern, state-of-the-art building of Moments Deuce was made to give the same feeling of effortlessness when any event was held there.

Julianne clipped her cell to the waistband of her skirt and glanced around. They had finished up the parking areas. On each side of the building a road led to the lots, which weren’t close to the main structure, yet not too far away. The parking attendants would know where to place each car based on the event the person was attending.

With sure strides, she went towards the left of the building, pulling out her keys. In moments, she’d opened the area they had for people who were waiting for the valet to bring them their cars. She could envision how it would look once furnished with comfortable couches and seating areas. Walking around the room, she noted it was slightly larger than they’d expected. Opening her notepad, she made a note to have them put in additional seating. She left the room, locking the door behind her, and headed to the main entrance.

She stayed close to the windows, occasionally peeking inside. Her heels echoed on the cobblestone as she walked. With three steps, she stood in front of the large stained-glass doors that would open automatically during events. For now, she unlocked the door and pushed it open. With just enough space, she went in. The ring of her cell made her pause. Glancing at the display, she accepted the call and put the phone to her ear.

“When you punched you were on site, we had a bet if you would go to the Moments Deuce.” Harmon Selleck’s deep baritone came over the line.

“Which way did you bet? What are you doing here so late, anyway?” Julianne touched the light switch, illuminating the lobby.

“Need you ask, Jules? And I had some paperwork to do,” Harmon sounded smug.

“You know me too well. I can’t believe that you got someone to take that sucker bet. Who was it?” Julianne laughed.

“Anthony.” A voice too low for her to hear was grumbling behind Harmon.

“Anthony should be ashamed of himself.” Julianne couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“He should. I’ll be coming out to join you in a moment.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m not going to be here that long,” she protested. She wasn’t a child.

“That’s our job, Jules. And Jordan would have my ass if anything happened on my watch. Now, would you want me to be
sans
butt?”

Julianne snorted. “That’s something I really don’t want to think about.”

“See you in a bit.” Harmon disconnected.

Julianne put her phone back at her waist, knowing it was useless to call back. Harmon was right—Jordan Locke, her cousin, would have his ass. She was co-owner of HJC Security Specialists along with Harmon and Carlton Bunnell. It was Harmon’s job, as part of the security firm that was headquartered on their land, to protect all the businesses in Kindred Place. It was the arrangement they had made when she and her partners, along with the other five businesses, had built their companies. Julianne, as well as some of her siblings and cousins, co-owned the land itself, while each business along Kindred Place was owned by one of them along with their own set of business partners.

Julianne decided to leave the door unlocked for Harmon and continued on. In quick strides, she headed right towards the set of offices. At the door leading to them, she noted the palm plates were in place. That meant the security firm was already working on securing the building. Testing it, she tapped in her code, smiling when the lock clicked open. Pushing through the doorway, Julianne left the door open behind her as she went down the short hall. Exiting into the main area, she was pleased to note the set-up was similar to the one at the main Moments office.

She checked out a few of the various offices and conference rooms. At one of them, she stepped back, then walked past the conference room and into what would be the manager’s office. She could see that they were still working on it—there were tools and other things littering the ground. Going to the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows and a mosaic glass door, she glanced outside—she knew, at least in this area, that the glass was actually one-way—for you to see out, but no one to see in. The starry, balmy night was beautiful and the pathways outside the new building were subtly lit. With a turn, she studied the room, imagining how it would look once the interior designs had done as they had planned.

Sounds she couldn’t identify made her return the way she had come, and when she smelt something strange she covered her nose as she drew closer to the hall. As she passed through the doorway, she stared, shocked, at the flames licking along the walls. They flared, then crackled. Stumbling back, she frantically glanced around.

Out. Get out.
Julianne ran down to the office she’d just left, the sound and smell following behind her. Frantic, she searched for the knob and realising there wasn’t one, Julianne pounded on the door.

“Help me. Help me!”

She coughed as the smoke reached her. Breathing shallow, she tried to think of a way to get out. Her thoughts screamed with urgency. Turning, she spotted a sledgehammer leaning against a bench of tools. Rushing to it, she picked it up before running back to the glass door and swinging as hard as she could. The hammer reverberated against the reflective surface, but nothing happened. The sound of crackling drew closer as smoke filled her nose. Glancing back, Julianne could see the fire racing towards her.

Why is it moving so fast?
She pushed the thought away and focused on breaking the door. Pulling back, she swung with all her might. The glass shattered. Dropping the hammer she kicked the shards of glass from the frame, sending the remaining glass to the ground, and ran outside. The heat from the fire licked at her back. A sound like thunder came, then she screamed as she was lifted off her feet and thrown. She seemed to fly through the air for forever, but it must only have been moments. With a crash, she hit the ground. Moaning, Julianne tried to roll over. She felt hot.

“Jules!” Frantic hands grabbed her.

They patted her, then turned her over. Blearily, she glanced up at the concerned face of Harmon. His bright blue eyes surrounded by thick black lashes studied her. With huge hands, he cupped the side of her face.

“Stay with me, Jules.” Harmon’s voice was soft, calm.

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t form the words. Harmon’s lips moved, but she couldn’t seem to hear what he was saying.

I can’t die here. I can’t leave my baby.
She blacked out.

* * * *

Keenan Callaghan pulled up to the fire scene at Woodbury Avenue, eight-one-seven-nine Kindred Place. Exiting his black Chevy Durango Crew Lux, he shrugged out of his spring jacket, throwing it into the back seat. For the second week in April, it was a fairly warm evening. He stood staring at a captivating building. From the call he’d received, he knew it was the future home of Moments Deuce—although, other than the name of the company, he didn’t know much else about what sort of business they did here. It seemed classy, yet comfortable.

Surprisingly, the fire hadn’t done much damage to the front of the building. Grabbing his kit from the passenger side of the car, he closed the door and went around to the back hatch. Studying the contents of the stocked bay area, he was again glad he had recently decided to use one of his own vehicles for work. The Singleton Fire Department let the fire marshals use their own vehicles, as long as they registered them with the department and the cars met certain criteria.

He decided to just take his larger kit until he knew what he was dealing with. Keenan retrieved it and pulled the strap over his shoulder. He strode towards the firemen putting out the last bits of the fire.

“Callaghan.” A voice he hadn’t heard on a scene lately interrupted his trek.

“Colby. This isn’t your usual sort of call. What are you doing here?” Keenan shifted his kit and shook Colby’s hand.

“Not usually. There wasn’t a murder. I got a call from Carlton Bunnell,” Colby Ramsey replied.

“Oh. Didn’t he go private about ten years ago?”

“Yep. Around the same time you decided to leave the force and go investigate fires. I don’t know what either of you were thinking.” Colby’s brown eyes were twinkling.

“I can’t speak for Carlton, but I wanted something other than the norm. It’s just a different sort of perp,” Keenan said.

It was the usual tease he got from Colby. They had become friends when he’d joined the Singleton Police Department, and had even worked as partners at the Delko Street Precinct. They’d remained friends when he’d left to become an arson investigator for the fire department. They hung out whenever they had a chance and their paths occasionally crossed on their jobs, in cases where a fire had resulted in fatalities—Colby often being called in as the assigned homicide detective.

“Yeah, whatever.” Colby brushed away a lock of hair from her rich, honey-brown face before she put her hands into the front of her jeans.

“Since you seem to know what’s up, fill me in.” Keenan continued onto the scene.

Colby matched his stride. “A fire broke out and Julianne Locke, one of the owners of this place, was inside.”

“I heard that she was taken to the hospital. What’s her status?”

“Minor injuries, although she passed out. She’s being held overnight.” Colby sounded amused.

“And that’s funny?” He stopped walking as the firefighters finished with the wrap up for the fire.

“If you know her, it is.”

“Pain in the ass, huh?” Keenan stifled a sigh.

That was all he needed—a problem witness. Usually, he was good with them. But, after a long shift of—in his opinion—a bunch of useless meetings, his patience was wearing thin.

“Not really. Just very stubborn.”

“Okay. Wasn’t there another witness?”

“Yep. He’s over there.” Colby pointed.

Following Colby’s gesture, Keenan smiled. Even looking at the guy’s back, he’d know him anywhere.

“I used to have this buddy who knew how to make a mean barbecue sauce. He was particular about it, too. Had to have the wood to barbecue over, temperature variances and everything
just so
before he’d allow his sauce to be used. Haven’t seen him in a whole lot of years. How the hell have you been, Harmon?” He slapped the man on the shoulder.

“Keenan Callaghan. It’s been, what, twelve years?” Harmon turned to face him.

The smirk on his face was familiar. Harmon was a prankster. They had grown up next door to each other and had even been roommates in college. They’d come home together, too. Keenan had joined the police force, and Harmon the FBI. They had kept in touch before losing contact years before. The large man slapped Keenan on the shoulder.

“About that,” Keenan agreed. “Did you meet Colby already?” he asked as she joined them.

Harmon nodded. “I already know her.”

“I hear you’re one of my witnesses. What are you doing here?”

“Witnesses? I thought you were on the police force,” Harmon said.

“I was. Left about ten years ago. I’m a fire investigator now. So, how did it come about that you were here?” Keenan asked.

“We handle the security for the businesses here.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“HJC Security Specialists, the security firm I co-own with Jordan Locke and Carlton Bunnell,” Harmon replied.

“I know a little about Carlton from his time on the force. Jordan Locke—any relation to the other witness?”

“Yes. She’s Jules’ cousin,” Harmon said.

“Okay. You got here quickly.”

“Our firm is on the property here at Kindred Place. Eight-one-seven-three Kindred Place, to be exact. It’s on the left side of the road adjacent to this one.”

Keenan nodded. When he’d come in he’d seen the huge, tasteful sign stating ‘Kindred Place.’ He’d driven by here often enough on his way to Delko Street, where he worked at the firehouse, but he hadn’t had a reason to come to Kindred Place before. Although Woodbury Avenue was commercial, the set-up of this place wasn’t like those he usually saw in the area. Driving in, he would have thought he was coming to someone’s private home, not businesses.

“Is it usual for Miss Locke to be working here so late?”

“Sometimes she does, but not here. This is still being built. She’d be working out of Moments, at the top of this road. Actually, she just got back tonight from a business trip.”