Out of Control

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mammoth fire we were
     all set to kill first thing in the morning. “This one is likely a true blowout, which
     I’d find ironic if it weren’t costing me a fortune.” He glared at me. “So you see,
     Ms. Drake, I’m now in charge, and I want you to leave.”
    I hid my shock. A.J. was a skeezeball, but no way was he capable of anything so monstrous
     as the blowouts.
    Or was he? Had I slept with a killer? Suddenly I wanted to take a shower.
    I cleared my throat and managed to say in an even voice, “It’s clearly your call,
     Mr. Sharpe, but you should know we’re set to blow the fire in the morning. If we leave
     now, it will be at least a week before another well control company can get here.
     That’s a lot of oil to burn, not to mention the additional cost of hiring a different
     company, who’ll have to reinvent the wheel.”
    Thankfully, before he was an overprotective, indulgent father, Hoyt Sharpe was an
     astute businessman. With scarcely ten seconds of thought, he jerked a nod and said,
     “Fine. Do it.” He bent to his son and tried to rouse him, but Dylan was out cold.
     I caught a whiff of alcohol and decided his unconscious state was as much because
     of the booze as the pop Cash gave him.
    Harley stepped forward and grabbed Dylan beneath the arms. “If you’ll get his feet,”
     he said to Hoyt, “we can carry him to his truck.”
    Looking like he’d be happy to kill all of us, Hoyt grasped Dylan’s ankles and followed
     Harley’s lead. Cash ran ahead and opened the back door of the SUV.
    From where he still stood beside me, Robichaud said, “You don’t think A.J. did it,
     do you?”
    I glanced at Conaway, who didn’t know about my previous relationship with A.J. She
     had her usual curious look. Oh, hell. “Don’t spread it around, but I was married to
     A.J. for a short while, a lifetime ago.”
    She pulled a face. “You slept with him? Damn, Blair, why? The guy’s about as hot as
     Antarctica.”
    “It was several years ago. He hasn’t aged well.” I scowled at her. “Hell. Why am I
     defending myself? Don’t tell me you never slept with someone who later disgusted you.”
    She cocked a grin at me. “Actually, I’m a virgin.”
    “Yeah, and I’m a nun.”
    “Ladies, could we focus here?” Robichaud looked very uncomfortable. “I asked if you
     think A.J. could be responsible.”
    I stared at the SUV. “To tell the honest to God truth, I don’t know. And why ask me?
     I’m clearly not terribly astute when it comes to judging character. I was stupid enough
     to marry the man, then let him rob me blind.”
    Remembering the day he left, when I came home from work and realized he was gone—along
     with anything I had that was worth more than two bucks—I shoved my hands into the
     pockets of my fire suit and scowled. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d seen
     it coming. But I hadn’t. We’d had sex that morning. He’d kissed me goodbye, just like
     he did every morning—at least, the ones when I was in town—and said he’d take me out
     to dinner that night. I’d left in a fog of newlywed bliss.
    And come home to an empty apartment. The bastard didn’t even leave a note. I didn’t
     hear from him again until two months later, when I got the divorce papers in the mail.
     He’d included a slip of paper that said, Sorry.
    Yeah, he was sorry, all right. A sorry son of a bitch. But was he capable of masterminding
     the deadly blowouts? I didn’t think he was smart enough, but what did I know of him,
     really? “If A.J. is behind this, I can’t figure out why. What’s his motive?”
    “He wants to make sure Maresco doesn’t have the money to extend their lease on some
     primo Alaskan oil and gas properties.” Robichaud folded his arms over his chest. “He
     told me as much when he was here a few days ago. Said he hates that Maresco is the
     one hit by all the blowouts, but the upside is that those undeveloped minerals will
     be up for bid.”
    “If

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