For a second, I see red. But I shove it down to think clearly. “Your guy is sure it was loosened? You said yourself that it’s an old building. Could have been?—”
“It wasn’t just loosened. The two ends of the line were taped to look like an old repair, but there were pinholes in the tape. No rodent, no pest plays with a needle to put pinholes into tape. No wear and tear does that, either. Someone tampered with the gas line.”
I swallow his words down, and it’s like gulping acid. “Then it was arson.”
Grant lowers his voice. “This is unofficial, Aiden. I’m giving you a heads-up because I know you and Harper go back. I figured it should come from someone she trusts. An arsonist hasthat bar in their sights. Or, at the very least, they did. Whether they’ll strike again… it’s hard to say. But this is a clear case of arson.”
HARPER
Carlie winces as she says, “I’m going to leave you two to… talk.”
I gulp so hard that it’s nearly painful. “Okay. I’ll call you later.”
She nods once, hugs Mason in the living room, and zooms out the front door, leaving me in the hall with Aiden.
Tall, dark, looming Aiden. Still just wearing his pajama bottoms. Still sporting a V-taper and a thick torso of tattooed muscle. His voice is gravel. “Harper.”
Something in his tone makes my stomach drop. “What?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He looks past me for a second, out toward the windows down the hall, as if debating to say what’s on his mind. Then his eyes come back to mine. “The?—”
“Can we have grilled cheese for lunch, Mommy?” Mason asks. Since I wanted to spy on Carlie and Aiden, I parked him in front of the TV, so he’s still there and hollering at me in the hallway as if he was raised in a barn.
He could have asked for a pony, and I would have said yes. Aiden’s about to hash things out with me, things he and Carlie discussed. It was wrong of me to spy on them, and one day, I’llapologize for that, but how could I not spy on them? Especially since Carlie was fuming when she walked into his office.
I give him a tight smile. “Now that that’s settled, what do you want to talk about?”
“The fire at your bar. It wasn’t an accident.”
The words don’t land all at once. They slide in sideways, snag on something, refuse to make sense. “Come again?”
“They found evidence of tampering.” His voice is steady, but I know him too well not to hear what it costs him to keep it that way. “The electrical issue was real. But someone loosened the gas line.”
My breath stutters. “Loosened it how?”
“Deliberately. Then they taped it into place and put pinholes in the tape to create a slow leak.”
The hallway feels suddenly too bright, too open. I grip the edge of a low bookcase behind me, grounding myself in the cold stone. “So,” I say slowly, carefully, “you’re saying someone sabotaged my bar.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re just… telling me this now?” The question comes out sharper than I mean it to.
Aiden’s eyes flick to Mason and back. “The inspector called me as a courtesy two minutes ago. He knows I know you. He wanted me to give you a heads-up before it becomes official.”
Official.
I can’t think about this right now. Maybe not ever.
My mind races, scrambling to catch up. Gas line. Fire. Timing. The night it happened. The way I’d joked afterward about bad luck, about old buildings and bad wiring. But it wasn’t just the old building that did this. Someone did it on purpose.
Nope, nope, nope. Can’t think about that.
Someone intentionally put my son in harm’s way.
Oh, fuck that. Puppies, lattes, rainbows, vacations, anything but that. Mason is safe. Think about good things.
The way Aiden looks at me. The things Carlie said. The silence last night when I asked him if he regretted me. “You didn’t want me to move on,” I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
