He swung the door open, blinking at the morning sunlight with a frown. Dear heavens, he was a handsome man. Tall, built like a linebacker, a broad face, shadow of a beard, dark hair, deep brown eyes with flecks of gold.
“I’m sorry,” she sputtered, thrown by her reaction to him. Of course, any red-blooded female would be shaken by his raw masculinity. But she didn’t allow herself to fantasize that there might be a good man beneath the package.
Not anymore.
“Sorry?” he said his voice gruff. “What, are you lost or something?”
She shook her head, willing her voice to be steady and not reveal the fact that she was about to feed him a big fat lie.
Protecting herself and getting revenge were all that mattered. If she had to use this man to do that, then let the lies begin.
* * *
GRIFF STARED AT the woman in confusion. Strange, beautiful females didn’t just show up at his door early in the morning, not out here.
Hell, he’d been up half the night working the crime scene and felt as scruffy as he must look.
She lifted a dainty chin. “My name is Virginia—Ginny—Bagwell,” she said in a voice that sounded almost angelic. Or hell, maybe he was still asleep and dreaming. In deep REM.
“I’m an investigative journalist,” she continued. “I’m writing a special series on arson, specifically arsonists and their motives, and would like to interview you for my piece.”
Griff narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been up half the night working. Why don’t you contact my firehouse and talk to the captain? He has people who handle media coverage.” Griff hated the press. Being in the spotlight. Last night he’d left Jacob to handle the reporter at the salon so he could concentrate on his job.
“Please,” Ginny said with a soft smile that probably disarmed most men. Or had them falling at her pretty feet. And he bet they were pretty and girly although you wouldn’t know it from the plain black flat shoes she wore. They were as nondescript as the black sedan she was driving.
“I did my research,” she went on. “I know how well respected you are, that you’re a leader among your team. I saw the story about the fire last night. You worked it.”
Griff shifted. “So did other members at my station.”
She clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, a lip so plump and ripe that for a moment Griff’s body stirred with desire.
Good grief. What was wrong with him?
Sleep deprivation. That was all.
She fidgeted with the button on her jacket. “I’m sorry for bothering you. You obviously were up late. Maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee later? Or breakfast? How about it, Mr. Maverick?”
She was persistent.
“Who did you say you work for? A paper? Magazine?” Griff asked.
A second of hesitation, then she breathed out. “I’m not with anyone at the moment. I’m trying to get an in at a TV network, and the only way to do that is to come up with a good story.”
“You can get information on arsonists’ motives on the internet,” he said, sensing she was trouble.
“I don’t want simple rote facts,” she said. “I want the real story from someone who’s worked fires, who knows arson, who’s been in the head of a fire starter and understands his actions.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “Understanding means I sympathize with the arsonist, and I don’t. But I do recognize their motives. Human nature makes us want to know why people do the things they do, especially actions that hurt others. And knowing those motives can lead to finding the culprits.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “Please meet me for coffee later.”
She extended a business card with her name and phone number in black and white. “I’m going to book a room at the local inn. Just let me know when you’re ready to talk.”
Their fingers brushed as he accepted the card, and the sleeve of her jacket rode up slightly. Just enough to reveal a scar on the underside of her wrist. Puckered red skin. Raw looking.
A burn scar.
His pulse jumped. Ginny Bagwell might be researching a story, but she was holding something back. This was personal to her.
She’d come to him because she’d researched him.
That roused his curiosity.
“All right, I’ll call you after I get some sleep,” he said, hoping a couple hours of z’s would make her look less sexy when he talked to her.
Either way, he’d find out what she was up to.
* * *
GINNY STRUGGLED TO calm her raging nerves as she drove through the small town of Whistler. Nestled in the mountains only a couple of hours from Asheville, it looked like a quaint little village with its gift shops, handmade quilt store and signs for boiled peanuts and homemade fudge. The area catered to campers, hikers, white-water rafting, canoeing and skiing in the winter.
She’d read everything she could find on the town the night before. Five years ago, a terrible fire had destroyed the local hospital, caused several casualties and cost the Maverick brothers their father’s life.
Griff knew what it was like to lose a loved one. Her heart went out to him. Yet that fact could give them common ground.
Reminding herself to stay alert in case Robert was in Whistler, she scanned the streets as she drove and the parking lot of the Whistler Inn when she pulled into the drive. Set against the backdrop of the sharp ridges and hills beyond, it looked almost ethereal. Not that she could relax and enjoy it while she stayed here.
Not with her sister’s killer still on the loose.
She retrieved her overnight bag from the trunk of her rental car and started up the cobblestone walkway to the front door of the inn. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she turned and scanned the street again.
Robert couldn’t know she was here. Could he?
No. She’d been careful. Rented a car using her fake ID so it couldn’t be traced back to Reese Taggart. Her hair was a different color now and shorter. Thanks to colored contacts, her green eyes were blue.
Reminding herself that she was here to find him, and that she’d trained for the moment, she slipped inside the inn. The woman behind the guest-services desk smiled and offered her the room she called The Sunflower Room. Ginny expected it to be painted bright yellow, but it was white with muted shades of green and coral, and fresh sunflowers in a vase on the desk.
The room was so bright and cheery that it looked at odds with the reason she’d come. But it reminded her of a happier time when she and her sister had dreamed about their futures together.