“For the last five years, Jess Milford was foreman of the company.”
“So Milford would have been working on the apartment project. I’m wondering if my dad got rid of him so he’d be out of the way when the fire was set. It would certainly be easier without the foreman around. You know the date he was fired?”
“No, but I can probably find out.”
“How?”
“Unemployment benefits. Maybe your friend Rob could go into the records, see if Jess Milford signed up for unemployment. That would give us roughly the date he was let go. Or I guess we could just ask Charlotte.”
His mouth edged up. “Better idea. Way better than hacking into government records.”
Cassidy just smiled. “If Alamo fired Milford before the arson, he probably wasn’t involved. So why would they kill him? And if they did, why did they wait so long?”
“Milford had to be pissed when he was let go,” Beau said, frowning. “He was a longtime employee. He would have heard about the fire after it happened—it would have been in all the papers and on TV.”
“Let’s say Milford had his suspicions, but he didn’t have any proof. Then something happened. Maybe he kept digging, turned up some kind of evidence. He found out who’d set the fire, went to them and . . . I don’t know . . . tried to get them to pay him to keep quiet?”
Beau started nodding. “Maybe my father’s murder was the catalyst. Milford believed it was connected, went to the men responsible, and pressed them for money. But instead of paying him, they murdered him and set me up to take the fall.”
“They wanted you out of the way. They don’t want you asking any more questions.” Cassidy sighed. “Of course, at the moment, it’s all just conjecture.”
“Yeah, but it makes a helluva lot of sense.”
She had a hunch they were on the right track, but they needed more. “Let’s go see Charlotte. We want answers and Charlotte might have them.”
Beau pulled her up from the chair and into his arms. He kissed her so thoroughly her toes curled inside her sneakers.
“The day’s shot,” he said. “Tomorrow we go see Charlotte, find out how much she knows.” He caught her hand, brought it to his lips, then started tugging her down the hall. “In the meantime, I really need to get some sleep.”
When they reached the master bedroom, he scooped her into his arms. “You promised me we’d take a nap and I can’t think of a better idea.”
Cassidy slid an arm around his neck as he carried her over to his big king-size bed. He settled her in the middle, then eased down on top of her and his mouth settled hotly over hers.
She barely remembered Beau stripping off her clothes, then removing his own. She focused on his amazing body, loved running her hands over the hard muscles in his chest, across his flat abdomen, loved the way they bunched when she touched them.
She knew he was exhausted. He had barely slept last night, but he refused to rush. Beau Reese clearly liked sex and he made certain his lover enjoyed it, too.
He settled himself on top of her, propped himself on his elbows as he kissed her. His heavy weight pressed her gloriously into the mattress as he nibbled the side of her neck, kissed his way down her body, taking his time, making her moan with need.
By the time he was inside her, she was begging, pleadingfor the sweet, simmering pleasure he had given her the night before. Beau surged deep and she clung to him, arched her back to take him deeper, dug her fingers into the muscles across his shoulders.
“That’s it, baby, just hang on.”
A soft moan escaped. His rhythm increased, faster, deeper, harder, carrying her upward, closer and closer to the peak. No matter how much he took, she wanted more, wanted all he could give her, gave back all she had.
Then she was flying, trembling and crying his name.
Beau came hard, following her to release, every muscle rigid. For long seconds they drifted down, floating, returning slowly to their surroundings. Beau kissed her softly one last time, then left her a moment before he padded back to bed.
Lying on his side, he curled her spoon-fashion against him. He was asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, but Cassidy lay awake.
She had never understood the world’s fascination with sex. Now she knew. Now she realized the kind of power amazing sex could have over a person. Now she understood, and it scared her.
The way she felt about Beau was completely new to her and utterly frightening. Part of her wanted to slip out of bed, put her clothes on, leave and never look back. Another, stronger part wanted to stay right where she was and never leave.
Even if she found the will, she couldn’t go. Not with the trouble Beau was facing. He was embroiled in murder, bone deep. His father was dead, and one of his father’s employees. Beau had been at both crime scenes. His troubles weren’t going away anytime soon.
Not unless they found the killer, and Beau needed her to help him do that.
