“Perfect.”
From the airport, Gia drove directly to the gym, where she worked out for two hours like an animal in the hopes of diminishing her anxiety.
The workout left her exhausted, panting, and still unnerved.
She sank down on a bench after her cooldown, a towel draped around her sweat-drenched neck as she breathed deeply in and out.
Dani had been right—neither of them had gotten any sleep last night. They’d discussed the missing photo album ad nauseam and gotten no closer to a solid theory for why it had been stolen or the lengths the thief had gone to in order to steal it.
“He either didn’t have the opportunity to grab yours or one album was enough,” Dani had said. “But enough for what?”
“I keep drawing a blank,” Gia had replied. “Someone was either trying to scare you or get his hands on something we don’t realize matters.”
“What would that be? A picture of me in my bassinette? There’s nothing valuable in that album, Gia. I didn’t keep anything tucked inside it, either—like a safety deposit box key or anything else you see on crime shows. It was just a bunch of photos.”
“I know.”
They’d played devil’s advocate all night, trying out different, farfetched scenarios and coming up with nothing.
But Gia wasn’t letting it go. No matter what the reason, Dani’s photo album had been worth something to someone. She just had to figure out the why and the who.
She rose from the bench, debating whether to take a shower here or just go home and take a longer, hotter shower there. She was way too drained to set up client meetings, and everyone at the agency assumed she was taking today off to spend time with her friend. Which meant she didn’t have to do the split-second-shower-and-put-on-business-attire thing, the way she usually did. Given that, maybe she’d just go home, shower, and try to chill out.
She’d just packed up her gym bag when her cell phone rang.
Glancing down at the caller ID, she was surprised to see it was from Mrs. Kaye, her neighbor from the townhouse next door.
“Hi, Mildred, what’s up?” she answered.
“Gia, I know you’re probably working, but you need to come home right away,” the elderly woman said, her voice high and thin.
A tight knot formed in Gia’s gut. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I just got home from the supermarket, and I heard the shrill sounds of your smoke alarm. I also smelled smoke coming from inside the house. I used the key you gave me and let myself in.” Mildred was talking a mile a minute, and she paused to catch her breath, then rushed on. “The candle you left burning on your mantel had toppled over. It must have happened just before I got there, because only the photos on the mantel top were burning. I threw a bucket of water on the flames, and it seemed to do the trick. But I was so frightened. I ran outside and called the fire department. They’re here now, looking around.”
Gia was already running to her car. “I’m ten minutes away. I’ll be right there.”
* * *
There was a fire truck parked outside Gia’s townhouse unit when she arrived.
After slamming her car door shut, Gia raced up to the front door, which was ajar, sounds of activity coming from within. Nearby, Mildred was pacing around, wringing her hands. Gia could smell traces of smoke as she approached her neighbor.
“Thank you for all you did. You saved my house.” Gia gave Mildred’s hand a quick squeeze. “We’ll talk after. Let me see what the firefighters have to say.”
She’d barely taken a step when a solidly built man in full firefighter gear strode outside.
“I’m Gia Russo, the townhouse owner,” she said without preamble. “How bad is the damage?”
The firefighter yanked off his helmet and dragged a forearm across his sweating brow. He scowled at Gia.
“You’re very lucky you have such an attentive neighbor,” he told her bluntly. “A few minutes later and your whole house would have been engulfed by flames. It’s a good thing she came home when she did. She did our job for us. The fire’s out. All that’s left is residual smoke and a pile of burnt picture frames. The pictures inside them are dust. And the photo album that was closest to the candle is burned to a crisp. What were you thinking, going out and leaving a lit candle sitting there?”
“I didn’t leave any candle, lit or otherwise,” Gia shot back. “I don’t have a candle on my mantel or anywhere else in my living room.”
“Right.” The guy clearly thought she was lying. “Well, then, someone bought you a present you don’t remember and lit it for you. Because the thing was definitely there, definitely lit, and definitely the cause of the fire.”
Gia wanted to rip him a new one. But she held her tongue. She might sound aggressive, but the truth was, she was one step away from breaking. She had fewer answers than this bruiser did and a hell of a lot more terrifying questions. Plus, given the circumstances, if their places were swapped, she wouldn’t believe her denials, either. And maybe it was time she stopped issuing them. If the police were called in, this would become an open investigation. Gia had a different avenue in mind, one that was both private and secure.