Page 81 of The Moment He Couldn’t Walk Away

His brother’s words didn’t totally convince Finch, but he left it alone for now. Clearly Lil had touched a nerve, and Lynx had reacted.

“So what’s our first stop in this totally random drive that makes no sense to anyone but you, bro?” Lynx asked around a yawn.

Finch turned onto Blue and Jay’s road and cruised past their house.

“Looks all good there, and I can’t imagine Blue in her current state will let anyone break in.”

“True, she was well under the influence when you drove her home. Plus there’s Jay—the guy who has contacts we can’t even imagine all over the world,” Finch added.

“That too.”

He didn’t go to Sawyer’s because they were safe tucked down the end of their road, he was sure of it, and if Finch was honest, he’d only driven past Blue’s house to throw Lynx off the scent. His real destination had always been Nina’s. Something was making him tense, a low and steady pressure in his chest that had nothing to do with the cold, and he was certain all to do with her.

“So after all the red herrings and pretending it was for family, why are we really driving by Nina’s place?” Lynx asked.

“She has a lot of crap going on right now, and some of it is pretty heavy. Plus, there’s the break-ins and what I thought I saw the day of her mother’s funeral.”

“Why are you so worried? Talk it through with me.”

So he did. He told Lynx everything that was going on with Nina—the money, her father, all of it—because his brother was really smart, and Finch needed to talk to someone.

“Wow. That has to mess with you,” Lynx said when he was finished.

He grunted his agreement.

“You’re into her, Finch.”

He didn’t deny it. “Not that it matters because neither of us is in the right headspace for a relationship now.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what you both need,” Lynx argued.

Finch didn’t answer that either.

He drove slowly up the road that led to the little white house with the cherry shutters, and his eyes moved the way they’d been trained to a long time ago—systematically, taking in what was there and what wasn’t. Dark windows. No movement. A car parked at the curb that he recognized, and a few tire tracks left in the dusting of snow covering the road. The cherry tree in the front yard, branches stripped bare. Normal. All of it normal, so why did he feel like something was off? He saw it then, the weak moonlight showed the potted plant under which Nina kept her front door key, was lying on its side.

Finch remembered when he’d been in her kitchen, and thinking she was neat like him. To his mind that meant Nina would never have left the potted plant like that if she was the one who’d knocked it over.

Instinct was something he’d often relied on in the army, and it had kept him alive more times than he could count. Right now, every instinct he had was lit up and screaming that something was very wrong. Finch cut the headlights and cruised past the white house without slowing, to park two houses down the street.

“Why are we stopping?” Lynx asked.

“Don’t slam the car door,” was all Finch said getting out.

The cold hit him like a wall. That kind that got into your lungs and made you aware of every breath. He moved fast and low along the footpath, his eyes fixed on the house, and Lynx was behind him, doing surprisingly well for a man in Ugg boots.

“Do you smell smoke?” Lynx asked.

Finch stopped and sniffed the air. It was faint, but unmistakable. Smoke.

“Call the fire department, Lynx!” He broke into a run.

He reached the front door in seconds and turned the handle, but it was locked. He bent to find the key, but it wasn’t there. Finch took a step back and drove his shoulder into it with everything he had. The door shuddered in the frame but didn’t give. It was an old house, the kind built before anyone cut corners.

“Round the back!”

He ran, overtaking Lynx before the first corner, the soles of his shoes slipping on the frosty grass. Finch’s mind was racing. Was the smoke coming from inside Nina’s house?

Nina.