Fatal Burn (West Coast 2)

Travis winced at the memory. Yes, Allie had been at the house, along with six other twelve- and thirteen-year-old girls. Enough to nearly drive him crazy at the time. Now, of course, all he felt was an overwhelming sense of guilt.

“The guy who set the fire was most likely the creep who burned the birth certificate.” He remembered the dark figure he’d seen at the fire. “I think I saw the perp that night.”

“What?” she whispered, eyes rounding.

“I already told the police.” Travis turned his gaze to Shea. “When the two detectives, Janowitz and Rossi, questioned me, I told them about the guy. And by the way, I’m sure that either one of them or some undercover cop is tailing me. Silver Taurus, parked across the street? Pretty damned obvious.”

A muscle worked in Shea Flannery’s jaw.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Shannon demanded, her fury ricocheting to her brother as she glared at him.

“We’re still processing everything. You were the one hell-bent to meet Settler.”

“So what else aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” Shea said quickly.

Too quickly, in Travis’s estimation. What the hell was the cop hiding? And what about the other brothers? Though tight-lipped, they, too, appeared to know a whole lot more than they were saying.

“You saw the man who lit the fire?” Shannon asked, turning the conversation back to Travis.

“I witnessed a man who was hanging out around the buildings just before the explosion, but no, I didn’t see who he was or what he looked like,” Travis said, anticipating her next question. “I had night goggles with me but didn’t have time to put them on before all hell broke loose.”

“But you actually witnessed another man on my property that night?” she asked again as if she hadn’t heard right.

Travis nodded. “He looked about my size, dressed in black. I didn’t notice any vehicles or anything that made this guy stand out, and no, I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup,” he said, repeating what he’d told the two skeptical detectives.

“Damn,” she muttered, shoving her hair from her eyes.

He noticed the bruises on her cheek again, the redness in the whites of her eyes.

“Could have been Santana,” the fireman brother suggested, eyebrows raised, urging Travis to condemn the man.

“It wasn’t Nate!” Shannon said angrily, her indignant face flushing. “Get off that, okay? I already told you he would never do anything to hurt me or the animals!” She blew out an angry breath and despite her wounds appeared as if she wanted to strangle each of her brothers in turn.

Travis silently applauded her. But the fact that she was so quick to Santana’s defense was something else, something that bothered him. A lot. Far more than it should.

“What about you?” Shea asked. “You think it was Santana? According to your statement you met him when you found Shannon in the stable.”

Shannon turned those damning green eyes on him. They narrowed along with her lips as if she was almost daring him to speak the sacrilege.

“Maybe,” he allowed, taking another drink from his bottle and watching her as he swallowed. “I couldn’t tell.”

Irritation flashed in her eyes. “It wasn’t Nate,” she insisted. “Let’s get that straight and we’ll all be on the same page.”

“Got no alibi,” Aaron offered.

“Enough!” she ordered.

Travis, surprised he’d slid off the hot seat of suspicion so easily, was secretly pleased that Shannon’s obviously overprotective brothers had no use for Santana. He saw an opening to ask a question that had been on his mind from the get-go. “What about Dani’s father…her biological father?”

Shannon visibly stiffened. Her voice was calm but she seemed as if she was restraining herself. “He left soon after I told him I was pregnant, before my daughter…Dani…was born. No one, not even his parents, knows what happened to him.”

“Or so they say,” Robert interjected as he drained his beer.

“Actually, Brendan might be back.” Aaron had stopped eating peanuts.

“What?” Shannon’s head whipped around. She skewered Aaron with a furious green gaze. “Brendan’s back?”