Page 2 of Hot Assets: The Carmichael Triplets

Heavy footfalls boomed from the entryway. My attention and gaze jolted from my injured neighbor toward the noise. I hadn’t heard the wail of an ambulance siren, and frankly, I’d be shocked if one had gotten here that quickly unless it was just one block away.

A man dressed in dark jeans, a button-up oxford, and a jacket barged into the kitchen. I realized that in my haste to get into the house and to Lillian, I might have left the front door standing open. Wow, that was a dumb mistake. Panic seized my throat and my breath for good reason.

My neighborhood was a recognized Dallas historical area that my great-grandparents had founded. Carmichael Gardens was a small city that Dallas had engulfed as it had grown and expanded over the years. This small incorporated area was comprised mostly of old craftsman homes, many over a hundred years old.

Lillian and I both lived in totally refurbished homes in the classically historical neighborhood. While many of the houses had undergone renovation and updating necessary to bring them back to their stately beauty, others remained in poor condition, with the owners lacking the funding to do the required upkeep. Recently, my family trust, the Carmichael Foundation, had taken on grant funding to help these owners.

Inside our fenced and gated neighborhood enclave, there was a false sense of security because neighbors watched out for neighbors. Outside our walls, however, the crime rates were higher than the average for other Dallas neighborhoods. Was the scruffy-looking man one of the criminal elements I needed to be worried about?

The man standing in Lillian’s kitchen was tall and broad-shouldered. His wavy, chestnut-colored hair was disheveled, as though he’d run his fingers through it recently. A heavy stubble covered his cheeks and circled a pair of thick lips that were currently pulled into a tight line.

“Get out,” I ordered in my best don’t-fuck-with-me voice that usually made my employees sit up and take notice. I pointed toward the direction he’d arrived.

I might have been anxious, but Baxter sure wasn’t. He raced toward to the man with a wiggly tail and excited jumps and yips.

“Hey, boy,” the stranger said with a quick pat on the dog’s head before he continued to advance toward us. Seated on the floor, I recognized our vulnerable position. I had no way to protect or fend off an attack, but I would protect Lillian the best I could.

“Lillian, are you okay?” he asked in a gentle voice. He squatted beside her. “What happened?”

Lillian smiled at the stranger even though she was obviously in pain. Whoever he was, she and Baxter knew him so I could let go of my attack dog persona.

“I’ll be fine,” Lillian said with a tsk. “I had a little slip and fall.”

“Do I need to call an ambulance?” he asked with a concerned frown.

His question rubbed me the wrong way. What did he think I was doing here? Working a jigsaw puzzle? “I’ve got it covered, Mr…?”

“Noles. Zack Noles. I knew you lived in the area, Andi. I just hadn’t had time to come by your house.”

I only remembered one Zack Noles and he was part of my past…my long-ago past. How common was that name? Had I ever met another man with that name? I met a lot of people in my position as CEO of my family’s philanthropic foundation, but I’m sure I would have remembered him if we’d met through my job.

I studied him closer—penetrating gray eyes. I only knew one person with those eyes. My heart skipped a few beats.

“Zack lives across the street,” Lillian said, interrupting my thoughts. “In the old Skaggs place.”

I knew the house. While it was on the historical preservation list, the structure was pretty much in terrible shape and was an eyesore to the area. Recently, to my relief, I’d noticed some renovation taking place. Ceramic tile and backerboard had been delivered last week. The Carmichael Family Foundation had taken on the renovation of Carmichael Gardens in memory of my father’s family and the source of most of the family fortune. I had wondered if I was seeing one of the grants in action.

The whoop of an ambulance siren and a flashing red light announced the arrival of the ambulance. I felt like I could finally take a breath. People who knew what to do were finally here.

“I’ll go meet the ambulance so they know they’re at the right house. Is that okay with you, Lillian?” I asked.

“Of course. Zack will stay with me.”

My gaze flicked between my injured neighbor and the man. He felt so familiar. When I tried to think about Zack Noles from college, my brain threw up a concrete wall, as I’d instructed it to. “I’ll be right back. Come on, Baxter. Let’s get you out of the way,” I said, picking up the tiny dog.

The paramedics were coming up the walk when I got to the front door…which was still open. I gestured for them to follow me. The male paramedic was tall, white, and at least fifty pounds overweight. The other was a petite, attractive Hispanic with caring eyes and a face that lit up at the site of Zack Noles.

“Detective Noles,” she purred. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” She grinned. “Too long, actually.”

Noles chuckled. “Good to see you, Anita. You too, Lonnie.”

Lonnie, the male paramedic, said, “This ain’t your shift, Detective. Whatcha doing here?” He eyed Lillian. “Break-in?”

Noles frowned. “No break-in. Lillian fell.” He eyed the woman on the floor. “There was no break-in…isn’t that right, Lillian? You slipped and fell?”

“That’s right. Just silly old me falling,” Lillian replied.

Again, something felt off, like Lillian wasn’t telling the whole truth. I again wondered about the dirty dishes in the sink. There were too many for just Lillian, but she’d said she was alone. However, that didn’t mean someone hadn’t been here earlier.

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