Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers #5) - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,112
he couldn’t find out more yet, but he’d charge it when he got to Evie’s. He’d have time to plug his phone in to make a few calls, hang around for a while in case Bell showed up, and then get to town to meet Evie at the end of the parade route so he could tell her what he’d decided.
He bypassed town, which would be a traffic mess, and powered up a back route to the top of Ambrose Acres, reaching Evie’s street in record time. As he neared the house, he caught a glimpse of Evie’s red car, which didn’t surprise him, because he knew she and Max were going in the parade car with Nellie.
But then he saw the BMW on the street and, one second later, the now familiar scrawny figure of a man hustling down the drive, his head down as he walked.
Declan whipped his truck into the driveway and damn near mowed the guy down.
“Whoa, whoa!” He held up two hands. “I know you don’t like me, but—”
“I knew I’d find you here.” Declan said as he climbed out of his truck. “What are you doing?”
“Uh, there’s supposed to be an open house.” He smirked up at Declan. “Which, by its very name, means it’s open.”
“Not to you.”
“Not to anyone, since the door’s locked.” He stepped away. “Relax, man. I was only coming by to tell Evie I changed my mind about wanting to buy the house. It’s cool.”
Cool? Nothing about this man was cool.
“So no need to beat me up, Captain. I’m out.” He hustled away, toward the street.
“Jamie?” Declan called.
He spun around, eyeing Declan. “I go by Jim.”
“Do you? Your lighter says Jamie.” He held up the lighter, and Declan saw all he needed to in the flash of shock on the man’s face.
“Never saw that before,” he said.
“Really? Because this engraving here matches your tattoo.”
“A drawing anyone could find on the internet if they google ‘bell images.’” He snorted. “Not a family crest, sorry. Now if you’ll excuse—”
“I won’t excuse you. We’re not done with this conversation.”
“Yeah, we are. And now I have places to be. And don’t you? There’s a parade in town, right?” He tipped his head back, and when he did, he reminded Declan of someone again, but he couldn’t quite nail who. “She’s not here if you’re looking for her. I knocked for ten minutes when I saw her car.”
Bell jogged down the drive, but this time, Declan followed.
“What’s your deal, Jim?” he asked.
“We’re finished here.” He almost reached his car, pulling out a set of keys.
“No.” Declan put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. “I know you.” The words spilled out the moment they hit his brain. He did know this guy. But from where? “How?”
Beads of sweat formed on Bell’s upper lip. “I have no idea.”
“No. No. I’ve met you before.” He rooted through his brain, back in time. Twenty years. The station. A training session. Dad was there. “Jamie Bell. You were a volunteer.” But not a very well-regarded one, he remembered. Some of the guys had called him Lamie Bell.
“A hundred years ago,” he said, reaching for the door handle.
“Twenty years ago,” Declan corrected. “Were you here? Did you work the fire that night?”
He yanked the door open and threw Declan a look. “I was not at the fire, and that is not my lighter, and I’m done.”
Then there might have been a completely different reason for why he’d lost his lighter here.
“Then why was this on the grass after the fire?” He flipped the lighter. “Catch!”
He whipped his hand out and snagged the air, just missing the toss. But before he could bend over and pick it up, Declan grabbed his arm, twisted it back, and got right into his face, hearing the man’s keys hit the ground. “What the hell was your lighter doing in the yard?”
Blood drained from the other man’s face, leaving a dusting of orange freckles over pale skin. “I don’t know,” he ground out. “I lived in this town briefly a long time ago, and I was on the vol roster. Maybe one of those blowhard guys in the department stole it from me. You ever think of that, Mahoney?”
“Nice try. Then why do you want to get inside this house so bad that you cooked up some stupid story about buying it for your fiancée? To find something you lost?” Even as he said the word, things started to make sense. Sickening sense.