Slow Burn

Chapter Twelve

Dylan Buchanan was a man of his word. Their night didn't end until he left the apartment at seven the following morning. Saying good-bye should have been awkward, but Dylan made it easy. Kate was just drifting off to sleep when he leaned over her and kissed her on the cheek.

She remembered that sometime during the night he'd told her he would be tied up for the rest of the weekend, but that he would probably see her Sunday night or Monday. He was either giving her the "I'll call you sometime" line or he actually thought she was back in Boston for good. She didn't correct the misconception. She doubted that after everything they had done she would ever be able to look him in the face again.

So much for being a sophisticated, empowered female.

The doctors kept Jordan until Sunday. She was still too miserable with her splotches to complain about having to stay in the hospital, and when she finally got home, she slept the afternoon away.

Kate picked up carryout for their dinner. They spent a quiet evening together, and both went to bed early.

Jordan wanted Kate to stay a couple more days, but Kate was anxious to get home and tackle the problems there. She also wanted to get out of Boston before she ran into Dylan again. Every time he was mentioned Kate rushed to change the subject. She usually told Jordan everything, but this was different. Way different.

By Monday Jordan was feeling much better and the splotches had faded. Still, Kate wouldn't let her drive her to the airport. She took a cab. It wasn't until she was in the air and on her way back home that she realized how nervous she'd been about seeing Dylan. She sighed with acute relief and decided then never to think about him again. She couldn't change what had happened, but she could force herself never to think about it or talk about it to anyone.

Out of sight, out of mind didn't work. She tried to read, but she couldn't concentrate, and when she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep so the salesman sitting next to her would stop bothering her, all she could see was Dylan's amazing body. The man didn't have any fat at all. And his thighs… oh Lord, those thighs…

Stop thinking about him. Telling herself to do so didn't make it happen, though. By the time she reached Charleston, she was furious with herself. She had the discipline of a nymphomaniac. How could she go so long without sex and then in one night…

Stop thinking about it. Those words were becoming a chant in her head.

She took a bus to the long-term parking lot. When she was dropped off, she stood for a second and watched lightning shoot across the ominous sky as she tried to remember where she had parked her car. The bus had just turned the corner when she heard a car coming up behind her. She was standing in the center of the lot and hurried to get out of the way. The driver, she noticed, increased his speed. It was probably some teenager with a lead foot, she thought as she jumped between two parked cars to get out of his way. The car zoomed past. Kate tried to see the driver's face but couldn't. The windows had been tinted a dark gray. She shook her head as she watched him turn the corner on two wheels.

"Idiot," she muttered.

She wasn't just referring to the crazy driver. She was feeling like an idiot herself because she had forgotten where she'd parked the car. She dug through her purse until she found the parking ticket stuck in the back of her billfold. Fortunately, she had remembered to write down the number and the row on the back of the ticket. She was standing in section B, but her car was in D, row three. She headed in that direction, pulling her overnight case behind her.

Her battered, rusted-out car was parked by the exit, wedged in between two huge SUVs. She put her suitcase in the trunk and was just pushing the lid down when she heard the squeal of tires. She turned around and spotted the same white car barreling down the lot one row over. He slowed down a couple of times, then increased his speed again.

Kate had the sense that the driver was trying to find someone. He had to be a teenager, probably joy-riding around the lot, having a fine old time scaring people or, more specifically, scaring her.

The car was heading down her row now. She wasn't certain if the driver saw her or not. He was barreling straight toward her as if he was actually trying to run her down. She dove to the pavement just as the car sped by, and she whacked her knee in the process. Grimacing from the sting, she got to her knees. Her purse had opened and her lipstick was rolling under the Suburban. She hit her head when she lunged for it.

"Okay," she whispered. "Now I am an idiot. A paranoid one at that."

She heard a car honk and thought that maybe the white car was terrorizing someone else. She finally managed to unlock her door and get inside. She felt like she was climbing into a pizza oven. She quickly rolled down the windows but didn't turn the air conditioner on just yet because the car had been sitting a long while and would stall if she didn't let the motor warm up. Getting it started a second time would be tricky at best.

She looked for the white car as she drove to the booth, and after she'd paid for parking, she told the attendant about the crazy driver. He immediately picked up the phone to call security.

Kate didn't remember to turn her cell phone on until she was waiting at a red light before merging onto the highway. She found it in the bottom of her purse, and about twenty seconds after she pushed the button for power, the phone rang, notifying her that she had voice mail.

The message was from a contractor named Bill Jones. Kate had never heard of him. He explained he worked for the owner of the warehouse she was going to lease, and he wanted to meet her there to go over the design changes she wanted. He also mentioned that the inventory she'd sent over had been stacked in the back of the space and would be out of harm's way during the renovation.

What was going on? Kate hadn't even signed the lease yet, and she certainly hadn't authorized any construction on the warehouse. What had the Realtor told the warehouse owner? She waited until she was at another stoplight to return the call. Jones answered on the second ring. She pulled off the street and into a parking lot as soon as the light changed. She hated talking on her cell phone while she was driving.

"Jones here."

"This is Kate MacKenna."

There was static on the line and what sounded like traffic in the background. The contractor couldn't have been at the warehouse because that was located at the end of an isolated street.

"I'm so glad you called, Miss MacKenna. I need to see you at the warehouse as soon as possible. Time is money, and I've got my crews ready to start."

"I don't understand. Your message said that my inventory was moved over to the warehouse?"

"Yes, that's right. I'm on my way over there now. I'll be waiting for you. It shouldn't take long at all."

"Wait a minute. Who authorized the move?"

There was a long pause, and then he said, "I don't know. The boxes with your name on them were just there when I opened this morning."

That didn't make sense. Kiera and Isabel wouldn't have arranged anything like that, and Kate's two full-time employees were on vacation.

"Mr. Jones, I can't make any changes or authorize any improvements-"

He cut her off before she could explain that she wasn't going to sign a lease. With her bleak financial situation, moving her company now was the last item on her agenda. She needed first to figure out how to keep her company before she did anything else.

"Listen, you're breaking up. Just meet me there," he said. "The side door's unlocked if you get there before I do. Grab a cup of coffee and wait for me. I'm across town, and there's quite a bit of traffic, but I'm on my way."

"Mr. Jones, about my inventory-"

"If you want to move it, we'll move it for you."

Kate was so frustrated she wanted to scream. How many boxes had been taken to the warehouse? It appeared the only way to find out was to drive there and see for herself.

They'd have to be moved immediately. She could stack them in her garage, she supposed, but then she'd have to move them again when the house went on the market. Oh Lord, how was she going to tell Isabel and Kiera?

First things first. She tried to get her sisters on the phone to tell them she'd be late, but the answering machine picked up. She left a message informing them that she was back in town but was going over to the warehouse before she came home.

She was just pulling out of the parking lot to get back onto the highway when she noticed how low she was on gas. Since she was in an unfamiliar part of the city, it took her a while to find a filling station. She spotted a McDonald's across the street and decided to get a Diet Coke. She wasn't in a hurry to get to the warehouse because she didn't want to have to wait for Jones.

She arrived at the warehouse a half hour later. It was located at the end of a long winding street in an area that was earmarked for renovation by the city. There were already several trendy lofts just a few blocks away. Pembroke Street hadn't been touched yet, and there were potholes everywhere, requiring a lot of zigzagging. The empty storefronts with broken windows hadn't been repaired yet, but the projected turnaround in this blighted area of Silver Springs and the expansion that would follow were exactly what Kate had been looking for.

The building was still quite a distance from her house, but the rent was doable-or at least she used to think it was-and she had intended to put in a security system for the safety of the employees.

The employees she might have to let go.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," she whispered.

Kate pulled into the lot and parked directly in front of the side door. There weren't any other cars or vans around.

She was about to turn the motor off when her phone rang. She sat back, adjusted the vents, and picked up the phone.

"It's Jones. Are you there yet?"

"Yes," she answered.

"I should be there in about five minutes," he said. "Help yourself to some coffee while you wait."

"No, thank you."

"You don't drink coffee?"

"No," she replied, wondering why they were having this inane conversation.

"Would you mind turning the pot off? Last time I forgot I nearly burned the place down."

That comment didn't instill a lot of confidence in Kate. "Yes, I'll turn it off," she said. "But about my inventory…" she continued impatiently.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to have those boxes moved tomorrow. They never should have been sent over in the first place."

"I'm really sorry if there's been a mix-up, Miss MacKenna. I'll do whatever you want. I'll see you in a few minutes."

He disconnected the call before she could tell him that meeting him was really a waste of his time and hers, that she wasn't going to be making any improvements because she wasn't going to be renting the space. Still, she did want to see how many boxes of her scented candles and body lotion had been moved.

Kate tossed her phone on the seat next to her, but it struck her purse, bounced to the floor, and rolled under the seat.

She unfastened her seat belt and was reaching for the phone when the engine began to make an all too familiar knocking sound. She knew what that meant. She quickly turned the air conditioner off and then the motor so that it could cool down. Otherwise, it would be impossible to start again. She leaned across the console and bent down to get her phone.

She was digging under the seat when the warehouse exploded.

The blast, like a sonic boom, rocked Kate's car and blew out the windows. Had she been sitting in the driver's seat, her face would have been slashed by the razor-sharp chunks of glass flying through the air. The shards pounded the hood and roof of her car and impaled the sides. Next came the wall of fire that blew through the building and rolled across the parking lot. The tires of her car buckled from the intense heat. The dashboard stayed in one piece as it was ripped free and propelled through the back window. It landed on top of the Dumpster across the lot.

Kate lay unconscious on the floor, unaware of the destruction surrounding her.