Slow Burn by Ednah Walters Read Free Book Online

Ashley’s head.
Nina had worn the same expression the night Carlyle House had
nearly burned to the ground. It was obvious the actress still
blamed her for the death of her husband.
    What about the letters they’d exchanged?
She’d poured her heart out in the letters she sent Nina after the
funerals. Without the kind responses she’d received from the
actress, she might never have dealt with the guilt of causing
Robert Noble’s death. Why then did the woman still hate her?
    She tried to recall the details of that
night, but as usual, very little came to mind. A worried face or
two, gentle words from strangers amid the chaos of fire engines and
firefighters. Why couldn’t she remember what happened before the
firefighters arrived? The clear memories were the loss of her loved
ones and one brave firefighter. Yes, her stupidity had led Robert
Noble to his death, but she’d grieved for him just as much as she
had for her parents.
    What if Ron’s investigation was meant to help
him and his mother come to terms with their loss? She was
preventing that from happening by being difficult. Ashley looked
back toward Nina’s home just as a black stretch limo zoomed past
her. Maybe she ought to go back and talk to them. It might help all
of them to start the healing journey together.
    I’m beginning to think like my shrink.
    Nina’s emotions were too close to the surface
right now for talks to accomplish anything. As for Ron, it was hard
to tell what was going on behind his charming smile. That quirky
grin could be hiding all sorts of malevolent feelings. Not that she
was a saint. Wanting to tear down a house with historical
significance to a city wasn’t heroic. Maybe she needed to stop
thinking of herself. Maybe she should call Ron and tell him she was
willing to help him. But could she survive reliving that night?
    The sound of a slamming car door caused
Ashley to turn her head. The limo had stopped ahead of her and a
uniformed driver opened the back door for its passenger. Was it
Ron? She hoped so. She could tell him she was willing to answer
whatever questions he might have.
    Wing-tipped shoes and charcoal-grey pants
appeared first before a man stepped out from the back seat. A sigh
of disappointment escaped Ashley’s lips when she realized it wasn’t
Ron.
    Whoever he was started toward her with even,
unhurried steps. The expensive suit enhanced his wide shoulders and
long legs. With his fair hair brushing his collar and dark
sunglasses, he could have stepped off the pages of some popular
men’s magazine. Ashley frowned. Up close, he looked a lot younger
than his bearing indicated, probably around her age. He flashed a
smile, revealing a perfect set of teeth.
    “Is everything okay, ma’am? You looked a
little distressed,” he said politely.
    Ashley frowned then touched her cheek. A
mortified groan escaped her when she realized a few tears had
welled up in her eyes. She swiped at her cheeks, angry with herself
for losing control in public. Worse, he called her ma’am. She must
really look haggish and pathetic with tears and mascara stains.
Just as she resigned herself to hiding behind her sunglasses, a
crisply folded, white handkerchief appeared in her periphery.
    Ashley stared at it and the hand holding it
and then leaned back to glance at the man. Not only did he catch
her indulging in self-pity, he was very much aware of her present
predicament. No tissue. Served her right for leaving her studio bag
at home.
    “I promise you it’s clean,” he said,
misunderstanding her hesitation.
    “Thank you.” She accepted the piece of cloth,
dropped her chin to lift up her sunglasses and wipe her eyes. “This
is very kind of you.”
    “No problem.” He stepped away from her
car.
    Ashley scowled when he pulled off his
glasses. A vague sense of having met him before washed over her
then quickly disappeared. Must be her heightened senses playing a
trick on her. She’d have remember such a handsome man if their
paths had