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The Wedding Rescue, Book Five(10)

By:Alexa Wilder


“Any idea how he got away from Tsepov?”

“No. I called a guy I know who’s in with Tsepov, but he’s not talking. I did get the feeling that Steven will be lucky if the cops pick him up before Tsepov does.”

“Do they need her for anything? I need to take her home,” Dylan asked.

“No, take her home. I let the lieutenant know she was on her way, but he won’t be able to get to her for a while. He can talk to her later. She’ll be with you?”

“Yes. Just give him my number and we’ll make ourselves available.”

“She up for pressing charges about last night? I gave his name as the likely suspect - I told the lieutenant I was working security for her as a client’s girlfriend and gave him what we know about Steven - but this will all go faster if she makes a statement herself. They can’t hold him on anything related to last night without Leigha,” Axel said.

Reminded that they were talking about me, and I could speak for myself, I lifted my head from where I’d burrowed into Dylan’s chest and said, “Let’s go now, before it gets too late. I have to start getting ready for Christy’s wedding in a few hours.”

“I think your Mom would understand if you missed the wedding, sweetheart,” Dylan said, looking down to meet my eyes.

“I’m not missing the wedding. And I want to press charges against that asshole.”

“We’re leaving,” Dylan said to Axel, turning us to face his car. He kept me tucked into his side as we walked away from the mess of firetrucks. Behind us, Axel called out,

“Leigha!”

I ducked under Dylan’s arm and faced Axel. His handsome face was dark with remorse.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

I shrugged, not sure what to say. He hadn’t acted out of malice; he’d been looking out for what Dylan would want. It was hard to fault him for trying to be a good friend even though his decision had played a part in Steven setting my house on fire. Without a good response, I settled for raising my hand in a wave. Axel nodded his head and disappeared back into the smoky crowd of firefighters working to contain the blaze before it could spread to the other houses.

Dylan was opening my door when I heard my name shouted across the street. I turned to see Mrs. Carmody bearing down on me, her teacup terrier, Jimmy, tucked into the crook of her arm. Short, scrawny, and tanned a deep, nut brown, she vibrated with energy. It wasn’t the crisis, Mrs. Carmody was a live wire all the time. If she was awake, she was on the go.

“Where have you been? And who is this?” She narrowed her eyes at Dylan, her gaze as suspicious as if he’d been holding a Molotov cocktail and a match.

“This is Dylan Kane,” I said, stepping a few inches away from Dylan. “He’s… we’re… I’ve been with him.”

Dylan offered Mrs. Carmody his hand. She took it, but barely spared him a glance.

“I thought you were home,” she said flatly. “I couldn’t get in the back door. I thought you were caught in there until the firefighters told me the house was empty.”

She didn’t sound concerned, but after a few years of living next door to her, I knew that she was hiding her true feelings. If she’d chased me down in the street, she must have been terribly worried. Knowing she would hate it, but not sure how else to reassure her, I leaned down and pulled her into a hug. She leaned into me for a single breath. Yep, I’d scared her. Guilt welled even though it wasn’t my fault.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Carmody. Do you remember Steven? My ex-boyfriend?” She nodded, her eyes shifting harder with dislike. I went on. “He attacked me last night and stole my car. I had to take a cab to the hospital for this.” I lifted my bandaged arm. “Dylan took me home with him and I only just found out about the fire.”

“And the one in the suit? Why did he say he was working for you?” Mrs. Carmody gestured toward the firetrucks in front of my house where Axel had disappeared. She had ears like a bat and hated missing out. I wasn’t surprised she knew so much of what was going on.

“He works for Dylan in security. He was helping with Steven.” Not a great explanation, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. Mrs. Carmody sniffed as if smelling something revolting.

“I never liked him. He kept parking with his back tire on my lawn. You think he came back and did this?” I nodded. “And what about him?” She gestured to Dylan. “How does he fit into this? I would have noticed that car in your driveway, young lady. Are you spending the night with a man you just met?”