UP IN FLAMES

“That was the FBI,” she replied. “They’ve located Chris-Christopher’s Chris-and brought him in for questioning. It’s quite funny how they even have the same name. They said he won’t answer anything. Now he has an attorney and is trying to make some sort of deal.” She took a deep breath. “He also is demanding to meet with me face-to-face.”

Instantly alert, Alaric resisted the urge to swear. “Damn Paul. He told me he’d handle it. Are they going to allow you to do that? The guy has been trying to kill you, after all. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about that idea.”

“You knew,”

“Yes, Paul called me on my way back. I just wanted to check up on you first. I’m just not okay with you talking to someone who has been threatening you,”

“They assured me I’ll be safe.” She looked down at her phone as if she expected it to have the answer. When she lifted her chin again, he saw determination in her gaze. “I want to talk to him. He must be pretty desperate to have been threatening me like that.”

“And attempting to kill you,” he growled. “If this Chris guy is involved with the cartel and they’re looking to him for that three million dollars, then yeah, he’s right to be scared. But he’s not right to take his fear out on an innocent woman.”

“I agree.” The faraway look in her eyes had him concerned.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Then leave it to me. Why are you even considering meeting him?”

“Because I’ve got questions that only he has the answers to.” The determined lift of her chin told him she’d already made her decision.

“Then I’m going with you,” he stated.

“Why?” she shot back.

He stared at her, “Because it’s my job, and I’m not going anywhere until this entire thing is wrapped up.”

———

The next morning, Vanessa rose early, full of a curious combination of anticipation and dread. Today she would finally meet Christopher’s Chris, the person her husband had apparently loved. Also, possibly the person who’d invested a great deal of effort in threatening and trying to kill her, all in a quest for three million missing dollars.

After breakfast, Alaric drove her to the station. Vanessa hadn’t been sure how to dress-after all, what did one wear to meet one’s husband’s lover? In the end, she settled for a pair of fashionably torn jeans tucked into boots, a cute tunic top and chunky gold jewelry. Torn between wearing her hair up or not, she’d settled on down, wanting a more casual look.

“You look beautiful,” Alaric told her, almost as if he somehow knew she needed reassurance.

“Thanks,” she replied, fidgeting with her bracelets.

“I’m not sure how this is going to go.”

“It’ll be fine. They’ll have him in restraints. There’s no way he’s going to be able to hurt you.”

“Except with words,” she reminded him with a wry smile. “That’s always a distinct possibility.”

When they arrived at the police department and parked, she found herself sitting frozen in her seat, wondering if she could make herself get out of the car. Instead of rushing her, Alaric simply sat with her, waiting until she felt ready. Finally, she felt foolish doing nothing. “Let’s go,” she said. “I might as well get this over with.”

Inside, a uniformed officer appeared. “The suspect is being held in a cell in our holding area in the back,” he announced.

Vanessa nodded. Her heart had begun pounding and her mouth went dry. Briefly, she felt dizzy and wondered if she might faint. But then, as she caught Alaric’s worried gaze, she remembered her resolve to reclaim her innate strength. Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and marched after the police officer with purpose in her step.

They were shown to a nondescript room-gray walls and floor, black plastic chairs and a long metallic table that looked as if it might have been intended originally for the autopsy department.

Alaric pulled out a chair for her and Vanessa sat. For a moment, she thought Alaric intended to stand right behind her, but he took the chair next to her instead.

The door opened and the Sheriff entered, his large stomach preceding him. Two armed officers brought in a tall, slender man with his wrists and ankles shackled. When his bright blue gaze met hers, Vanessa almost gasped out loud. Because Christian Wuncler, with his patrician, chiseled features and thick blond hair, was as breathtakingly, stunningly beautiful as any man could be.

While they studied each other, the sheriff ruffled paperwork. Finally, he cleared his throat and motioned to the two guards that Chris should be seated. He chose a chair directly across from Vanessa.

“Hello.” The flash of his warm smile was another surprise. “It’s about time we finally met.”

Beside her, she felt Alaric tense up.

“I guess so,” she responded. “Since clearly you didn’t succeed in killing me.”

“I told you that wasn’t me. You clearly have another enemy.”

She snorted, unable to help herself. “I know you claimed that early on, but later you forgot you’d said that. I don’t think that’s going to help you now.”

Chris’s amazing eyes narrowed, but he didn’t dispute her statement. “Are you planning to press charges?” he asked, his tone as banal as if they were merely discussing the weather.

“Of course. I’ll have nightmares for years about that drone.”

He nodded. “I loved him, you know. Christopher and I had something special. Did you ever care for him?”

“That’s none of your business,” she replied, keeping her tone as even as his. “Why did you think he stole your money?”

“It wasn’t mine,” he replied. “It was ours. We were planning to use it to start a new life together.”

“Only it didn’t belong to you,” the Sheriff interjected, checking his notes. “According to this, that money belonged to a drug cartel. Christopher was laundering it for them and stole it.”

“So say you.” Chris gave an elegant shrug. “Christopher felt that he had earned it for going over and beyond his duties.”

Looking from one man to the other, Vanessa wasn’t sure what to say. She believed laundering money might be a federal crime though, so she figured the FBI would be arriving soon.

The sheriff confirmed her thoughts a second later.