Page 83 of Serial Burn

Nathan looked at his broken brother.

He hadn’t meant for anyone to die.

And yet, someone had. So, where did they go from here?

TWENTY

Jesslyn jerked awake at the shout that had come from the deck. She sat up to see Nathan standing at the railing. Eli had his face in his hands and his shoulders trembled. Oh dear. Something was going down and it didn’t look good.

Nathan turned on his heel, strode past his brother, and stepped inside. He gazed at her, and his features softened a fraction. “Are you ready?”

“Sure. I had a nice little nap.” She’d keep her throbbing leg to herself. “Are you okay?”

“No, not really. I can’t be here a second longer.”

She frowned and glanced at Eli, who still sat at the table on the deck. He still had his face in his hands and his shoulders still shook. The man was sobbing. “Nathan—”

“Leave him. I’ll ... I need to cool off and think before I can talk to him anymore. He’ll be all right.”

“You can’t leave him like that.”

His eyes hardened. “It’s better if I do, Jesslyn. Trust me. If I don’t walk away, I’ll say something that will only make a bad thing worse.”

She bit her lip and let her gaze bounce between the men. “All right. If you’re sure, then let’s go.”

“I’m sure.” He glanced at the clock on the mantel and Jesslynsnuck another look at Eli. He’d stopped crying and was staring out over the backyard. Maybe hewouldbe all right, and having some time apart would be the best thing for both of them.

“Let’s go see Pam,” he said. “I think she might actually be more help than Mr. Christie at this point.”

“All right.” She led the way out of the house, and he followed her to the car.

They climbed in, and within seconds, he was backing out of the drive and heading toward the salon. He drove with clenched hands and a tight jaw. His hip didn’t seem to be bothering him that much at the moment, which meant his adrenaline must be flowing pretty good.

She bit her tongue on all the questions she wanted to ask. He was in no mood to talk, so she’d just give him some space, and when he was ready, he’d tell her what was going on.

By the time they reached the salon, Nathan had relaxed some. Enough that she didn’t think his teeth were going to shatter. The salon was just closing up when they walked in, and a woman in her early sixties was sweeping the floor. Her classy, styled shoulder-length hair swung around her face. She straightened and turned at their entrance, and Jesslyn’s first thought was how good she looked for her age. She had green eyes and wore understated makeup that made her appear younger than her years. She was the only one left in the place.

“Hi,” Jesslyn said, “are you Pam?”

“The one and only, hon.” She smiled. “And you’re Jesslyn. You look just like your mama. Wow.”

“Thank you. And this is Special Agent Nathan Carlisle with the FBI. He’s a friend of mine and we’re working on the arson case together.”

“FBI, huh?” Pam’s perfectly arched brows rose into her bangs. “All right. Now you got me curious how all this fits with your mother. This is going to call for a sit-down.” She set the broom aside, locked the entrance, and motioned for them to follow her. She led them to a small break room that held a table and chairs for four. “Y’all need any water or a snack?”

“I’m fine,” Jesslyn said, and Nathan echoed her.

They sat and Pam clasped her hands in front of her. “Wow. Last time I saw you was just before the fire.” She blinked away a sheen of tears. “I still miss your mama.”

Jesslyn blanked, wishing she could remember the woman.

Pam leaned forward. “All right, I’m listening.”

Jesslyn sent up a silent prayer for answers and took a breath. She let it out slowly while she gathered her words. “All right. So, I’m the new deputy fire marshal. I vowed to one day catch the person responsible for my family’s murder and I feel like I’m getting closer to doing so.”

More tears gathered in Pam’s eyes, and once more, she blinked them away. “Some days I still can’t believe she’s gone. I was a couple of years older than her, but we were friends since high school. The age difference never mattered to us. And if we didn’t see each other for a while, that didn’t matter either. As soon as we were back together, we picked up where we left off.”

This time a memory surfaced. Sitting in a stylist’s chair and this woman spinning Jesslyn around until she nearly fell out laughing. “Wait, Idoremember you. You used to cut my hair.”

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