Flashback

“Irrelevant.”

“I wonder if Blake would have thought so.”

Aidan fished his keys out of his pocket. “I’m going home to sleep. For many, many hours. When I’m back on duty you can drill me all you want. Maybe I’ll be able to think more clearly.”

“Maybe I don’t want you thinking more clearly.”

“And what the hell does that mean?”

“It means I need answers now. Did you know she was staying on the boat? Did you maybe visit with her there before the fire?”

“I told you. No. And no.”

“Ms. Stafford thinks Blake is innocent. That he was not only framed but possibly murdered, and she intends to prove it.”

Soundedright. Kenziemightlooklikeaprettyballof fluff, but she had sharp wits and was loyal to a fault. She also had the tenacity of a bulldog. Once she got her brain wrapped around an idea, there was nothing anyone could do to change her mind. Not about falling in love with him, not about being an actress and most definitely not about believing that Blake couldn’t be guilty of arson.

“So the question stands,” Tommy said quietly. “How well do you know her?”

“Did.” Well enough that when he’d looked into her eyes, he’d felt an odd stirring, a sensation almost like coming home. Yeah, once upon a time he’d known her well. As well as he’d known anyone. “Past tense.”

“Good enough.”

“For what?”

“To get you to tell her to stay the hell out of this investigation and not interfere.”

“People don’t tell Kenzie what to do.”

“You’re going to. Because the chief has put out the word. If anyone hinders this investigation, we’ll have them arrested, Blake’s sister or not.”

Great. Perfect. If Aidan told her that, she’d jump in with both feet, because one thing he remembered and remembered well—nothing scared her. Nothing. “Seriously. It’s not a good idea for me to tell her anything.”

“Well, then, I hope she has bail money.”

Shit. Aidan watched Tommy walk away, then he turned to his truck. Needing sustenance before he passed out cold for at least the next twelve hours straight, he stopped at Sunrise, the café that was the perpetual hangout for everyone at the station. The two-story building was right on the beach. Downstairs was food central, while the second floor was the living quarters for Sheila, the owner. The rooftop was the place to go to view the mountains, the ocean, the entire world it seemed, and to think.

Stepping inside, his sense of smell immediately filled with all the aromas he associated with comfort: coffee, burgers, pies…Sheila smiled at him, and as the sixty-two-year-old always did, fawned over him as he imagined a mother would.

His own mother wasn’t too into fawning, at least not over him. She’d divorced his father when Aidan had been two, and he’d spent most of his childhood years being shuffled from family member to family member while she’d relived her wild youth. Granted, he’d been more than a handful of trouble, purposely going after it in a pathetic bid for attention, so in hindsight he didn’t blame anyone for not keeping him around for long.

Eventually, he’d ended back up at his dad’s, where the two of them had spent a few years doing their best to tolerate each other until, when Aidan had been fifteen, his dad had remarried and promptly given his new wife three babies in a row.

Aidan had landed at his mom’s once again, a little bit rebellious and a lot angry, but by then his mother had settled down some, remarrying as well.

Now Aidan had five half brothers and sisters, and didn’t quite belong on either side of the family.

Not that he’d had it as rough as Blakeand Kenziehad. He knew exactly why the brother and sister had been as close as they had, and exactly why Kenzie would fight tooth and nail to prove her brother’s innocence.

What he didn’t know was how to convince her to let the law handle things, or if he even had a right to ask such a thing of her.

Between a rock and a hard place.

He ate his fill, and by the time he set down his fork, he felt halfway human. He still needed his bed, badly, but with Tommy’s words echoing in his head, he knew he had to try to talk to Kenzie again first. He needed to warn her to let Tommy do his job. For old times’ sake.

Or so he told himself.

He pulled out his cell phone and called the hospital, but was told she’d been released.

Where would she go? Back to Los Angeles? No, she wouldn’t leave Santa Rey, not until she did what she’d come to do, which was prove Blake’s innocence, so he asked Sheila for the local phone book and a slice of key lime pie, both of which he took up to the roof. Sitting facing the ocean, he began calling. But as it turned out, Kenzie wasn’t registered at any of the three hotels in the area, probably because there were two conventions in town and everything was fully booked. He looked at the remaining list of several dozen motels and B and Bs, and sighed. He’d made his way through the most likely candidates when Sheila came out on the roof with a fresh mug of coffee.