Read Online Perfectly Matched by Heather Webber - Free Book Online Page A

thought it was best just to do what he said even though I hadn’t really thought Grace was my type. Amazingly, we hit it off right away. I guess there is a reason your dad is called The King of Love.”
    A big reason. If Dad had a hand in this match, it was sure to last. Andrew didn’t have to worry so much about the relationship working out. My father wouldn’t have gotten involved if Andrew and Grace’s auras hadn’t matched. Theirs was a relationship destined to stand the test of time.
    And suddenly I groaned inwardly, realizing I’d shot myself in my foot where Jeremy Cross was concerned. If my father was leaving town, he wouldn’t be able to help me identify Jeremy’s aura color. I was going to have to get my brother Cutter involved.
    “Grace is a sweetheart,” I said. Shy, bookish, and a bit socially awkward, she was a hard worker who had an infectious smile.
    He nodded and put the book face-down on his desk. “Are you here to see Sean?”
    “Is he back?”
    “Not yet. Sam’s in his office. Forewarned, though. He’s in a foul mood.”
    I could only imagine.
    “I guess I would be, too,” Andrew said, picking up his book again, “if there was an arsonist stalking me.”
    He and I both. While I was up here, I might as well see if Sam had learned anything from the police. “Thanks. I’ll go back.”
    Sam’s office door was wide open. A tall floor fan oscillated, stirring the hot air, but not really cooling it. His back was to me as he stared out the window. I tapped on the doorjamb and he spun around. It looked like he’d aged a good ten years since I’d seen him a couple of hours ago.
    He shoved a hand through his short brown hair and said, “Sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.”
    There were boxes in here, too, and I noticed that except for one folder and his laptop, his desk was clear. The gun resting on his hip took me aback for a moment. In all the time I’d known Sam, I’d never seen him with a weapon.
    Leaning against the doorframe, beads of sweat slid down my back. I didn’t beat around the bush. “What did the police say? Do they think the arsonist is targeting you?”
    “Yeah.”
    Shit , as Em had so eloquently said.
    “They want me to lie low, keep aware of my surroundings, that sort of thing.” The hand he rested atop the back of his leather desk chair squeezed so hard I thought he might puncture a hole in the material. “They also asked me to compile a list of everywhere I’ve lived and worked in and around the city.”
    “That’s quite a list,” I said.
    He let out a pained breath. “I can’t remember them all. How can I warn the people in those houses now when I can’t remember?”
    Like Sean, he’d been a foster child, bouncing in and out of the system. Both he and Sean had been living on the streets when they met.
    “I’m sure the police can access your records. They’ll take care of it.”
    Angst flashed in his blue eyes “That’s what they said.”
    “You don’t believe them?”
    “I just want to make sure.”
    I understood—he didn’t want anyone to suffer on his account.
    I said, “Did the police talk to you about suspects? Have there been any eyewitness reports?”
    “Too many suspects to name. Every spouse I caught cheating. Every con-artist I’ve helped put behind bars. Sometimes,” he said with the barest hint of a smile, “I wish I’d stayed in the military. At least then I knew who my enemies were. Most of the time.”
    He’d served eight years in the Army Rangers before leaving the military. He’d come back to Massachusetts , met his wife Lizzie, and started his PI firm not too long after that. Their twin girls were five, and were his pride and joy. I couldn’t even imagine the amount of stress he was under right now—not only trying to figure out who was behind the fires, but the worry of keeping his family safe.
    I thought about what Em had said—about these fires being cause by someone in his very distant past. “Did you ever