Love Under Two Outfitters by Cara Covington (the false prince series .txt) 📗

“That sounds like a plan.”

Ian was usually pretty good at estimating the time. Ken closed his laptop and set it aside just as his cousin pulled in at the gas station. It took only a couple of minutes to fuel up, visit the restrooms, and grab coffee.

Then he was back in the car, this time with his woman snuggling up to him. He ensured her seatbelt was on—the center one—and then he wrapped his arms around her. Her sigh of relief sounded huge to him.

“I’m sorry you were worried,” Ken said. “Ian and I are both going to have to get better at communicating.”

“I get it. You two have been partners for a long time, and you’re Kendalls. That means you likely know what each other is thinking most of the time, especially when it comes to business.”

“We can still work on changing, baby.” Ian’s words from the front seat and the look on his face as he said them let Ken know that trait—knowing each other’s minds—had already extended to Alice.

Ken knew he could also offer one more thing. “I really need to hold you, sweetheart. I’m more than a little pissed that someone would set fire to something of ours, even if it’s just a random act of violence.”

“I just need to hold you, too.” Alice laid her head on his shoulder. Her right arm came around him, her grip tight.

He kissed the top of her head, strengthened his own hold on her, and, for a while, let himself sink into the connection, and the heart, she offered him.

Chapter Eleven

Alice didn’t know if the building that used to hold Travis Sporting Goods was a complete loss, but to her untrained eye, it certainly looked close enough. Ian pulled up to the curb behind a fire department vehicle. As soon as they stepped out of their SUV, she could smell the stench of the fire, an acrid smell of old lumber and tar and oil, covered in a moldy wet olfactory blanket of stink.

Ian took her hand, and with Ken on her other side, they began to make their way toward the busy scene ahead. Police department crime scene tape marked the restricted space, where, she imagined, police and fire officials were conducting their investigation. No wisps of black smoke curled into the air from the building. It appeared as if the fire was well and truly out.

From what she could see, walls were still standing, though they were sooty, dark streaks of mascara-tainted tears a mute testament to the ravage of flames and the relief of water from the fire hoses. The roof, however, appeared to have been completely destroyed.

A police officer stopped them when they reached the tape line—until Ian and Ken identified themselves as the owners of the building. Then the officer let them through but followed close behind as he directed them forward. Alice had to fight down the urge to glare at the man.

“He’s just doing his job, baby,” Ian said. He’d spoken quietly.

Alice sighed. “I know.” Since he’d read her mood, she didn’t think she needed to explain to him why she felt hostile.

Even thinking that my guys could be considered suspects for this crime has put my back up. No, it was more than that. If she was to be honest, it was more than hostility she felt. A rage seethed within her, a depth of emotion she’d never known. Alice knew in that moment she’d do anything and everything to protect the men she loved.

Don’t think love. Not yet, and not here and now. Box it up.

“Sarge.” The officer who’d accompanied them called out to his boss. The man looked from his cop to them and nodded to the officer. He’d been standing, talking with Jake and Jordan Kendall. Now he approached them. Her men’s cousins followed close behind.

“Are you the Kendalls?” the sergeant asked.

Alice caught Jordan’s eye roll. Grateful for that bit of comic relief, she swallowed back a giggle. Then she turned her attention to the police sergeant.

“We’re two of them,” Ian said. He extended his arm, and the sergeant accepted the handshake. “I’m Ian, and this is my cousin and business partner, Ken. We are the Kendalls who own this property.”

Ken also shook the sergeant’s hand.

“Sergeant Douglas Portman.” He handed Ian his business card. “I’m in charge of this investigation. Do you gentlemen mind telling me where you were last night, between the hours of two and five a.m.?”

“We were at a resort just outside Austin,” Ian said. “We left there after our cousin Jordan called us this morning, to tell us about the fire.”

“I presume you have witnesses to that effect?”

“You mean aside from the management of the resort, where we checked in and out?” Ken asked. “Not to mention our credit card transactions, both when they swiped the card upon our arrival and again when we checked out.”

I guess I’m not the only one feeling hostile. She took a half-step forward, determined to commandeer the conversation long enough for Ken to take a breath and get it together.

“I was with them. Alice Benedict.” She offered her hand and gave the man a look that dared him to refuse either her handshake or her word.

“You should know that we received a tip early this morning that the two of you had set this blaze, and you’d done so for profit. So, maybe you were safely in Austin while some minion or other set the blaze.”

Minion? Where is this guy getting his lines?

“The building’s not insured, and the ownership of the merchandise inside the building doesn’t transfer to us until the end of the month,” Ken said. He sounded calm and in control. “I’m not sure how we could profit from this mess. I’d be delighted to hear your ideas on the matter.”

The sergeant huffed out a breath. “Your cousin, the lawyer, told me that, but I’ll need verifiable proof.”

“I can send a file of documents to you via email once I have your