“My feet are killing me.”She gestured to her office shoes.“These weren’t meant for running.And they’re caked with mud from the marsh.”
The stores weren’t open this late, so it was either wait until tomorrow or swing by her place now.He didn’t think the gunman would expect them to head back to her place.Not after a shooting took place at the house.“The police might be there.”
“If they are, we won’t go.But if they’re not, then it should be fine, right?”Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.“Maybe we’ll get a chance to see the bullet hole left by the gunman.”
“Evidence of a crime would be helpful.”Micah made a right-hand turn to deviate from their current course.“We’ll see if anyone is there.If there’s crime scene tape or police cars nearby, we’ll turn around and head to the rental property.”
“Fine with me.”She blew out a long breath.“I would love to change into sneakers, jeans, and a sweater instead of these office clothes.”
He could understand her wanting to be comfortable.Especially since he had no idea how long they’d have to stay at the rental house.One night for sure, likely more.He didn’t want to mention this to Bryn, but the situation wasn’t looking good.Lori Eastman’s murder changed things, and not for the better.
No matter how much he wanted to have faith in the cops, he didn’t think the issue of finding Damien and the missing money would be resolved in a matter of hours.
If the guy had money aside of the funds he’d likely embezzled, which was how Lori and Bryn had made it sound, he could easily go off the grid.For all they knew, Damien could be on an island sipping an umbrella drink by now, laughing at how he’d left Bryn in the lurch with his absence.
The jerk.
Micah forced himself to stay focused on keeping Bryn safe.He’d figure out the rest of this mess later.“Do you know the way from here, or should I put your address into the map application?”He arched a brow.“Either way is fine with me.”
“I know the way.Take this road for another mile or so, then turn left.”
He did so, then continued to follow her instructions as they headed back toward Madison.When she directed him to turn at the next intersection, he was glad to see they were heading away from the capital building.
“There’s no direct route,” Bryn said, reading his mind.“The two lakes that flank the city make it harder to get from point A to point B.The scenery is wonderful, but the design of the city makes the commute in and out of the downtown area a nightmare.”
“Traffic in Chicago is unbearable as well.”He grinned wryly.“Mac has the right idea, living mostly in Wyoming.”
“Mac?”She frowned.
“Grady McFarland.You may have noticed the boss refers to us by our army nicknames.I’m Mick, for obvious reasons.Grady McFarland is Mac.He recently got married and now splits his time between his house in Wyoming and his wife’s apartment in Chicago.From what I hear, they’re spending most of their time in Cody.”
“Not as many job opportunities in Wyoming.”She grimaced.“I should probably work on updating my resume.”
“There will be time for that later.”He reached over to touch her knee.“Once we clear your name, you’ll have an easier time hitting the job market.”
She stared at him for a moment, then nodded.“I guess you’re right.Proving my innocence should be my primary goal.”
“Yep.”He noticed a sign up ahead.“Is that the Irish pub you called me from?”
“O’Brien’s.There’s state-owned protected marshland over there.”She gestured out his side of the window.“That’s where I hid from the gunman.”
“Smart move on your part.”He was impressed with her quick thinking.Then he scowled as he caught the hint of smoke.“Do they have a wood-burning stove?”
“No.”She sniffed the air too.“That’s odd.Maybe someone is having a bonfire?”
As he turned at the next street, the haze of smoke grew thicker.“Those clouds of smoke aren’t from a bonfire.Something else is burning.”
“Like what?”As soon as Bryn asked the question, he caught a glimpse of an orange glow on the horizon.A sick feeling of dread washed over him as he continued driving.
There was no doubt in his mind a house was on fire.Bryn’s house?
“Oh no.Please don’t tell me...”Bryn’s voice trailed off.Then she reached over to grab his arm.“It’s my house, Micah!That’s my house that’s burning.”
“Are you sure?”He didn’t dare get too close in case they were stopped by the police.He slowed and pulled over to the side of the road.“Could be your neighbor.”
“I’m sure.”Her voice filled with anguish.“Do you think the gunman did this?Do you think he set my house on fire?”
“I don’t know.He would have had to do that after the shooting at Lori’s house, so maybe not.”He saw two fire trucks parked in the street, along with several police vehicles.They looked to him as if they’d been there for a while, at least ten minutes.Was that enough time for the gunman to have gotten here from Lori’s house?
