"You found security footage?"

Maurice nodded. "The owners were happy to hand over the originals."

"Excellent," Benicio said. "I trust they were well compensated for their willingness."

"Of course, sir."

"You said there was something interesting you wanted to show me."

"Yes, sir, on the video footage." Maurice opened the cover for his tablet and slid his finger across the screen, then turned it to face Benicio. "This is footage from 10:30 am on the day of the fire."

Benicio watched as the video played, and three bikers parked their motorcycles behind a row of dumpsters adjacent to the warehouse. "The men Mad Dog tasked to the warehouse, the protection detail. That was all kosher." He waited as the bikers removed their gear. "Well there's Axe. I recognize him. I don't know the other one."

"One of them is the one who was killed. The other is Joe Holder - goes by Crunch. He does the books for the club."

"I see."

"All Inferno MC, sir," Maurice said. He pressed "play" on another video clip. "This is what happens at 10:42."

Benicio watched as the three bikers wearing Inferno MC leathers rode up to the warehouse. They parked by the front entrance and removed weapons from underneath their leathers, sub-machine guns from the general shape and outline. One threw something inside the warehouse, and then a plume of smoke erupted.

"Flash-bangs," Benicio said.

Maurice nodded. "Keep watching."

Benicio watched as the bikers sprayed the warehouse with gunfire aimed at the three Inferno MC members inside, then as one of the fuel containers inside the warehouse exploded and the building caught fire. "Those thugs. Morons."

Maurice nodded. "The rest of the video clips are more of the same. The warehouse goes up in smoke, and the first set of bikers leave. The other two bikers escaped out the back, and sped off on their motorcycles. A homeless man witnessed it as well."

Benicio drummed his fingers on the table. "So, the Inferno just used one of my warehouses as a hit location. And Axe and another biker escaped."

"That's what it seems like, sir," Maurice said. "Both groups of bikers were wearing Inferno cuts. Could be an informal squabble being taken care of, or some type of power play going on. Hard to know without digging around into the club's business."

"Dig," Benicio ordered. "I want to know exactly what we're dealing with here. Regardless, the end result is that I ended up with a hot warehouse, a dead biker, and the whole f.u.c.king place riddled with bullet holes and up in flames. If we didn't have a couple of people already on the take within the LVPD, there would be a number of organizations sniffing around this."

"I will start digging, sir," Maurice said.

"This stays between the two of us. I want to know exactly what the Inferno MC is up to now, as well as what the dynamics are between the club members and Mad Dog. I want to know everything. Weaknesses, vulnerabilities. I don't want to be blindsided by something like this again."

"Yes, sir. I'll get on it immediately."

"Dani came to me before she and Blaze left for Cambodia, wanted a quiet exit out of the country. Blamed it on wanting to get away from the club, having a regular honeymoon. I should have known there was something more she wasn't saying." Benicio said it more to himself than to Maurice.

"Should we get someone on them, Sir?"

Benicio shook his head. "I'm not sure what the angle is here yet. But the Inferno have no reach in Cambodia, I'm sure. Axe, on the other hand... Dani asked us to check in, keep an eye on him. Said he was drinking too much. Personal problems."

"Now he's got more than just personal problems."

"Yes. He does," Benicio said. "Do we have a track on him?"

"No, sir," Maurice said. "But we'll get one."

"Find him and the other biker."

"You want us to bring them in?"

Benicio shook his head. "No, just get a line on them. I want more information before we make a move."

"The club will be tracking them too. As soon as they find out that they weren't killed in the fire, they'll finish what they started."

"Then we need to make sure the club believes they were killed in the fire," Benicio said. "I trust you can ensure that it's public knowledge that three bodies were found, instead of one?"

"Yes, sir," Maurice said. "Right away."

"Make it happen immediately. And I'll make sure the club is alerted that there were three bodies found," Benicio said. "Good work. Let's see if this trail leads where I suspect it does."

June I finished applying a third coat of mascara and stepped back from the mirror, blinking a few times before I surveyed myself from head to toe. I looked good. My hair was blown out and straightened instead of slicked back into a ponytail right out of the shower, the way it usually was. I was wearing my casual but still low cut black shirt, the one that showed just enough cleavage, and the hip hugging jeans that made my a.s.s look great.

So why the h.e.l.l did I feel like s.h.i.t?

There was no reason for the stupid, nagging sense of guilt I felt. Cade was being a p.r.i.c.k, and I had no reason to care what the h.e.l.l he thought. Or whether or not I hurt his feelings.

f.u.c.k it. As if bikers even have feelings.

We weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. This sure wasn't high school. And I certainly didn't need to turn down a date with Jed just because Cade had gotten his panties in a bunch over it. I didn't owe Cade an explanation. I didn't owe him anything.

So when Jed called me to ask if I wanted to have dinner tonight, I said yes, without a second thought about how Cade would react. Okay, so maybe it wasn't without a second thought exactly. Maybe it was because of Cade specifically.

Screw him.

Besides, he wouldn't even know. Even if he did, he said he didn't care. He was the one who told me to date Jed.

And Jed was really nice. I needed nice. I could do nice.

What I didn't need was damaged. I had enough of that going on all by myself to last me a lifetime.

I dragged lipstick across my bottom lip, then scanned the room for my purse. d.a.m.n it. I was going to wind up being late.

I was so engrossed in what I was doing that the knock on the front door made me nearly jump out of my skin. s.h.i.t. Maybe it was Cade stopping by...to apologize. Yeah, right. As if that would ever happen.

When I pulled open the door, it was Jed. What the h.e.l.l?

"Jed. What are you doing here?"

"Hey, June," he said. He was still in uniform, and his cruiser was parked in the driveway.

Is he kidding with this? So much for keeping this date under wraps.

I glanced behind him to Cade's house. No one was outside, but h.e.l.l, everyone was going to know my business in about ten seconds. Which was exactly why I had told him we could meet for dinner in the next town over, thirty minutes away. I didn't need any prying eyes, especially after Cade had conveniently stumbled on us when we were having coffee.

"What are you doing here?" I asked through clenched teeth. If I could have hissed the words at him, I would have.

"I know we were supposed to meet at the restaurant," he said. "But I was working late, out on a call down the road. So, I figured, rather than call and stand you up, I'd stop by and hope you hadn't left yet." He shuffled his feet awkwardly, and I nearly invited him in, just to get him out of the freaking driveway. But there was his cruiser, parked right behind him, this bright sore thumb attracting attention. All I could think about was how much I needed to get him out of here.

"So why don't we raincheck, then," I said, my words rushed. That way, he could go home, and I could sit in the tub with a gla.s.s of wine and a book. That option didn't sound bad at all, actually.

"Oh." He looked down at the ground. "Yeah, um. That sounds fine. I was thinking maybe I could just drive you to the restaurant, but no, that's good, too..." His voice trailed off.

"In that?" Yeah, the police cruiser didn't scream "hey, look at me" at all.

Jed glanced back at the car, a sheepish look on his face. "Yeah. I could uh - I have a change of clothes with me, and I can give you a ride home."

I must have given him a skeptical look, because he stumbled over his words, adding "I mean- not like I want to give you a ride home and...you know...come in or anything like that. I mean, nothing like that. You know, unless you wanted me to or something...Oh, s.h.i.t."

His face reddened, and I had to smile at his embarra.s.sment. It was kind of charming, almost sweet. I mean, if someone else had shown up on my doorstep for a first date like this, I'd have already pepper sprayed him, because well, it would have been creepy. But Jed was just too d.a.m.n nice.

"It's okay, Jed," I said. "I didn't think you had any kind of nefarious intent." I mean, not after that display, anyway. "Just let me grab my purse and phone and I'll be ready."

At the restaurant, we lingered over dinner, but I couldn't focus on Jed. Out of his sheriff's uniform and in normal clothes, Jed looked even better, his eyes highlighted by the blue collared shirt he wore, sleeves rolled up over his forearms. I tried to picture Cade wearing a b.u.t.ton down shirt, and almost laughed out loud. There was no way he'd be caught dead wearing one, I knew that without even needing to ask. Jed made it look s.e.xy somehow.

So why couldn't I pay attention to what he was saying?

Why did my mind keep returning to Cade?

I played with my wine gla.s.s, my fingers dancing on the rim as I half-listened to Jed fill me in on the gaps in my knowledge about the town, all the gossip about the people we had grown up with, and the things that had changed.

Then he stopped. "I've been running on and on, haven't I?" he asked.

"No." I laughed. "Well, maybe a little."

"You're such a good listener, you know?" he said. "You probably get that a lot. I need to shut up more."

"No, it's fine," I said. "It's nice to hear about this place. I missed it, in a lot of ways."

"I admire the way you reacted after well...all that happened in high school, June," he said. The compliment brought a wave of embarra.s.sment over me. I hated when people did that. I hated when they made my family tragedy into something I had overcome, making me out to be some kind of n.o.ble person. I was far from it.

"It was nothing," I said. "So, how did you end up being town sheriff?"

It was my blatant, unsophisticated attempt to veer away from discussing my family, but it didn't get through to him, and he barreled ahead. "Not many people would be able to get past that, and then become a doctor, join the Navy, serve their country."

It drove me crazy being made out to be some girl struggling against all odds to make something of myself. There were lots of people genuinely struggling in the world, living hand to mouth, and I had never been one of them. My parents died in a tragic accident, and my sister killed herself. But they didn't leave me dest.i.tute, and I had people who loved me, an aunt who took me in, enough money for years of therapy. I was more fortunate than a lot of other people.

"No, really," I said. "It happened a long time ago, Jed. I tried not to let it define my whole life."

"See, that's what I'm talking about." He sipped his coffee, set it down. I sat there, detached, trying to decipher his expression. That's what it was. Adoration. Like some kind of d.a.m.n puppy dog.

"You are just so modest," he went on. "That's what I like about you, June. That's what I've always liked about you."

Oh, h.e.l.l.

He kept talking, extolling my virtues, and I just sat there, staring at him, while his words drifted into the background. I wasn't some kind of G.o.dd.a.m.ned saint, and I wasn't the straight-laced do-gooder Jed seemed to think I was. Yeah, I joined the Navy to do something meaningful; but I also joined for selfish reasons. The idea of moving every few years, re-inventing myself, not getting too attached...there was something alluring about it.

I wasn't Mother Theresa.

"Really," I said weakly. I smiled, but it felt forced. "It's no big deal."

"How can you say that?" Jed continued, oblivious to my growing discomfort. "You deployed with the Marines. I mean, I read about what happened when you were in Afghanistan. The explosion. It was amazing stuff. The hero surgeon - they didn't call you that for nothing."

I felt chilled, down to my fingertips. "It's not something I like talking about."

Jed plowed ahead, leaning forward, his eyes bright. "Oh, I read about it, though, the interview you gave -"

"That was for a Navy magazine," I said.

Cade doesn't think you're some kind of saint.

The thought nagged at me.

Jed opened his mouth again, started to say something, and I stood up. "I'm going to the ladies' room," I said.

He cleared his throat, face reddening, and I couldn't tell if it was embarra.s.sment at being blown off or anger behind his eyes, but I didn't care. I was tired of dropping hints. Actually, I was just tired.

On the way home, we made awkward small talk, the ride stretching out for an interminably long time. That is exactly the kind of thing I was trying to avoid by meeting him at the restaurant. Why had he insisted on picking me up at home?

We stood awkwardly on the doorstep, and I looked behind him, scanning Stan's house for any sign of movement, half-expecting Cade to come walking out at any moment, brandishing a shotgun and making threats to Jed.

In your dreams.

You told him your dating life was none of his business, and he told you to go out with Jed, to do whatever you wanted.

That's right. It's what I wanted, wasn't it? I'd wanted Cade to leave me the h.e.l.l alone, to stop prying. He'd always had a jealous streak.

Jed was talking again, lingering. Expecting me to ask him inside?

"You know, June," he said. "I always had a thing for you, way back in high school."

"High school crushes," I said, trying to be casual, trying to steer the conversation away from where I thought it was headed. I didn't need some awkward declaration from Jed. "We grow out of them."

Had I really grown out of mine?

"It's more than that, June," Jed said. "You moving back here...I think it's maybe life giving us a second chance. Maybe it's fate's way of bringing us together again." Before I could say anything, let him down gently, he moved in toward me, to kiss me.

And I...ducked out of the way.

Literally, ducked. Like I was a boxer, bobbing and weaving away from a punch.

"Jed." I backed toward the door. "I don't think I'm really in a place right now where I'm looking to start something serious, and I'm not sure - "