“My people will love you.”
She smiled sadly. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
***
After picking up Hayley’s new Honda from the public beach’s parking lot, we drove to the office. As I drove in, I noticed a city police cruiser also parked not far from the front entrance. I eyed it with curiosity as Hayley got out of her car and locked it with her smart key.
I took her hand as we both walked toward the building.
“Excuse me.”
We halted as the uniformed officer stepped from the cruiser. He paced toward us, his fingers hooked into the neck of his Kevlar vest.
“Are you Hayley Desjardin?” he asked, stopping us from entering the building.
My dragon instincts bristled. “What’s going on?”
Hayley tightened her hand in mine. “Yeah, I am. This is my husband, Alaric.”
The cop nodded respectfully. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, sir,” he said. “I’m Officer Martinez. Might we talk in your office?”
“This is okay,” Hayley replied after a swift glance at me. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m afraid so.” He glanced between us, his mouth twisting slightly. “There’s been a fire. A bad one.”
Hayley sagged against me. “Oh, my God. It’s Roxanne. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am. She died in the fire. Your sister is dead.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hayley
The details were difficult to listen to. Officer Martinez was sympathetic and kind as he explained what had happened the previous night.
“The fire investigators believe your sister fell asleep while smoking. The cigarette ignited her chair, then spread to a bottle of whisky on the table next to her.”
Alaric draped his arm over my shoulders and hugged me tightly against his ribs.
“Do you want me to continue?” Martinez inquired upon seeing my stricken face.
I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes. Please do.”
“We suspect she was also drunk,” he went on. “An autopsy will tell us more.”
“If she had passed out,” Alaric murmured, “she may not have felt the heat of the fire.”
“That’s what the investigators also think.”
“Oh, Roxanne,” I muttered, choking on a sob, “I told you to quit drinking. Dammit. Now look at what happened.”
“Do you need to sit down?” Martinez asked.
I drew in a deep breath, steadying my need to weep. “No. I’m okay. Roxanne, well, shit, she always hated me. There’s no reason to not say it. The last time I saw her, I told her to quit. Shesaid no. Her hands were shaking so bad I had to hold her lighter so she could smoke.”
“Was she drunk then?”
