THREE

      Mitch groaned when he heard Dana’s side of the connecting door slam shut followed by the unmistakable click of the dead bolt shooting into place.

      What was the matter with him? Dana might have come over to his ER room to thank him, but that didn’t mean she liked him.

      In fact, dragging her into his mess likely made her dislike him even more. And it was understandable. He had failed her husband and placed her in danger. He absolutely needed to ensure her safety.

      But how?

      The throbbing in his temples pulsed along with the ache in his neck. He pushed himself upright and went into the bathroom to wash up. His reflection in the mirror made him grimace.

      His skin was streaked with black soot mixed with blood. His looks alone could have scared her away. Craning his head to the right, he checked out the incision. It looked good, although he would have given a lot for a bottle of ibuprofen.

      After washing away the grime while steering clear of the incision, he went over to stretch out on the bed. He needed some sort of action plan because clearly Dana wasn’t going to stick around for long.

      The thought of her driving away tonight had him lunging back to his feet. He crossed over and parted the curtains over the window so he could look out at the parking lot. Her car was still there, but for how long?

      He was tempted to go out and remove the distributor cap so she couldn’t leave. The thought of her heading home and being found by the knife-wielding man made him feel sick.

      Yet there was also the possibility that they might need to leave here in a hurry.

      No, disabling the car was out of the question. He’d just have to trust that Dana would stay until morning, the way she’d promised.

      He let the drapes fall back into place and moved away. Unfortunately, women didn’t necessarily keep their promises. At least, Janice hadn’t. When he had caught her with Simon, he’d been shocked, appalled and hurt. The only good news about the whole thing was that he had found out the truth before he’d asked her to marry him.

      Old news, he reminded himself. He might not understand why she had bothered stringing him along, but it didn’t matter. Just because his brothers and his sister seemed to have been bitten by the lovebug didn’t mean he had to follow in their footsteps.

      Although the idea of being a loner like his brother Mike didn’t sit well, either. Regardless, he had bigger issues to worry about. Janice might not have been faithful, but she certainly hadn’t deserved to die.

      And how on earth could his attacker have gotten into his boss’s office to use his phone? He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that Rick Nelson had set him up deliberately. With Jeff gone, Mitch was the only fire investigator on staff, at least until Rick found a replacement. Word on the street was that several former firefighters had applied for the job, Mitch’s old buddy Paul Roscoe being one of them. In fact, Paul had asked him for a reference, which he’d gladly given.

      Questions whirled around in his mind until he fell into a troubled doze. Every creak and muffled thump from other motel guests woke him up, making him go still while staring through the darkness.

      By the time morning had dawned, he had given up trying to sleep and dragged himself upright. He went over to see if Dana’s car was still there and was relieved when he saw the compact vehicle.

      She hadn’t left yet. He wanted a shower, but knew he couldn’t get the stitches wet. Instead, he made a cup of coffee in the small coffee maker.

      As he sipped from the cup, he tried to think of a way to assure that Dana would be safe returning to her home. He’d rather she didn’t go back there, at least not right away. Could he convince her to go to her in-laws? Maybe. He remembered how Kent’s parents had stood by her during the funeral. Surely they’d stayed close over the years.

      If not her in-laws, then maybe some other friend. Someone who wouldn’t mind a houseguest for a couple of days.

      A male friend? He inwardly grimaced, then realized he was being ridiculous. Why wouldn’t she be dating? She hadn’t mentioned having a boyfriend, but it wouldn’t be surprising if she was seeing someone. Kent had been gone three years.

      Yet the way she’d gone pale when he’d taken her hands in his gave him the impression that she hadn’t moved on with her life. The idea that she might have shut herself off from men made him feel guilty all over again.

      If only he could go back to that fateful night. He had had his doubts about Kent Petrie coming along on the call so soon after his training. Mitch had asked Paul for his opinion, and his buddy had thought Kent would be okay. Mitch had tried one last time to convince Kent to stay with the truck and man the hose, but the rookie hadn’t wanted to be kept out of the action. So Mitch had reluctantly agreed to let him take a flanker position, thinking if he kept the rookie close, he’d be able to keep an eye on him.

      Only the fire had gotten out of hand really fast. There had been flammable material of some sort stored in a remote corner of the building that suddenly blew up with a ferocious roar, turning the fire directly toward them. Kent had freaked out a bit, clawing at his face mask, and that was when Mitch had realized the seal wasn’t tight enough and smoke was seeping up inside the mask, clogging Kent’s nose, mouth and eyes.

      When Kent had collapsed, Mitch had tossed the kid over his shoulder and gotten him out of there as fast as humanly possible. But it had still taken much longer than he’d expected. The fire was so intense, he’d felt the breath of the dragon searing him from behind.

      By the time he had gotten Kent outside and begun CPR, he’d known it was already too late. But he’d refused to stop, continuing to pump the young man’s chest in a fifteen-stroke rhythm while a paramedic on scene tried to force oxygen into his smoke-damaged lungs.

      Kent had been declared dead thirty minutes later at barely twenty-three years old.

      Yet Dana had come over to thank him. And what had he done in return?

      Drawn her smack-dab into the middle of danger.

      He was so lost in his thoughts, his coffee had grown cold. He forced it down and prepared to make a second cup. He briefly considered reaching out to Paul for help, but decided it wasn’t a good idea to put his buddy in danger, as well. When his coffee had finished brewing, he heard the sounds of Dana moving around next door.

      Maybe he could hire his brother Mike, the only Callahan sibling to refuse to follow their father’s wishes of choosing careers that served the community. Mike ran his own private investigator business, and it was possible that he’d agree to watch over Dana for a while, until Mitch could be sure their assailant hadn’t used her license plate number to obtain her home address.

      He and Mike had grown closer lately, partially because Mike was the only other Callahan who wasn’t married and popping out kids. As single guys, they’d banded together. Not that Mitch didn’t love his family, because he did. But their weekly Sunday brunches had gotten exponentially more crowded since three