Controlled Burn (Scarred Hearts) by Nikki Duncan

he barely brushed the surface then. Though so far he and his therapist had talked more about what it would be like to go home.
    “I only have a few questions.” Schneider’s voice changed, lowered the slightest bit, but Logan didn’t care to figure out if the sympathy was real or an investigator’s ploy. “I’ll be brief.”
    Logan stared. The man could ask whatever he wanted. It didn’t mean Logan had to answer.
    “There are indicators the fire wasn’t accidental.”
    Indicators? How long did it take to figure out how a fire started?
    “How’s business?”
    “In the toilet.” Indicators were as useless as questions.
    “You in a lot of debt?”
    “Now.” Medical bills, unpaid mortgage payments and a loss of clients who couldn’t be without an accountant while he recovered ensured his pile of debt was a mountain. It would have been a mountain range if Ashley’s fiancé, Cameron, hadn’t taken care of the funeral costs. The funeral Logan had been unable to attend.
    Hoping for an intelligent question, Logan pointed at his face where scars reached from the middle of the back of his head to the middle of his cheek and all along the side. He hadn’t thought he cared about his looks before, but facing a future of ugliness revealed his thoughts in a different light. People would never consider him good-looking again and that bothered him. Hell, it pissed him off.
    “You suggesting I’d do this to myself?”
    “It’s an angle I have to explore.”
    Logan could suggest a plethora of things for Schneider to explore. None of them included himself and Ashley. “Explore another one.”
    Schneider nodded. “Are you aware Ashley sustained injuries beyond the fire?”
    “Yes.” Though he didn’t know the specifics. He’d tried calling Cameron, but had been ignored. After that he’d been unable to make himself seek more answers.
    His heart slammed in his chest and more than ever he wanted to get up and pace. Confinement had his need for action buzzing in his head. He didn’t move.
    “Do you know anyone who might have wanted to hurt your sister?”
    Hurt? More like killed. He swallowed the lump that solidified in his throat as the idea did the same in his mind. If it found a firm hold, and he expected it would, he wouldn’t be able to shake it.
    “The autopsy report,” Schneider continued, “says she suffered blunt force trauma to her temple. She was dead before the fire started.”
    Logan swallowed again. Avoidance became a best friend he could spend days with. Ashley hadn’t been hurt. She’d been killed. Murdered.
    He still said nothing, giving Schneider every opportunity to fill the silence. “Did either of you have any enemies? Maybe unhappy clients? Maybe she fought with her fiancé?”
    “No.” Ashley was—had been—the embodiment of kindness and love. She couldn’t have had an enemy. No one could have set out to hurt her, let alone kill her. Especially not Cameron.
    Schneider tapped his pencil on the edge of his notepad, looking more and more like he was sucking on a rotten lemon. “What about you? Any issues with your sister?”
    If he could stand quickly he would, and he’d not-so-gently show the inspector to the door. The best he could do was a verbal dismissal and to point at the door. “We’re done.”
    “One more question.”
    Logan stared. His jaw tightened with each breath.
    “There was space for eight offices in that building. Aside from your office there was only one partially occupied space. Why? Where were the other tenants?”
    “It was a new renovation. You’d have to ask the landlord about other tenants.”
    “Will you be available if I have more questions?”
    “Only if they’re helpful.”
    When the door closed behind Schneider, Logan fisted his burned hand and embraced the pain instead of trying to drive it away. Losing Ashley sucked. His burns sucked. Being a suspect… The accusation reverberated in his soul with a destitute truth and it elevated his life from