Free Fever by Maya Banks Page A

have the heat on?” he demanded.
    The woman looked startled. And then she laughed. He blinked, not expecting that kind of response.
    “You’ll have to take that up with the city,” she said, anger vibrating in her voice. “They’ve cut so
    much funding that we can’t afford to fix the heat. It went out last week. All we have are a few
    portable heating units, and we use those at night so the women can at least sleep warm.”
    Jace cursed under his breath.
    “Was there something I can help you with, Mr. . . . ?”
    He extended his hand. “Crestwell. My name is Jace Crestwell, and yes, there is something you can
    help me with. I’m looking for someone who works here. Her name is Bethany Willis.”
    The woman took his hand but frowned. “I’m Kate Stover. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Crestwell. But
    we don’t have anyone named Bethany who works here.”
    His brows drew together. “She put this as her contact address on an employment document.”
    Ms. Stover pursed her lips a moment and then she sighed. “Many of the women use this address,”
    she said quietly. “It helps when trying to obtain employment. Some businesses aren’t too keen on
    hiring a homeless woman.”
    Jace stared at her, not fully comprehending what it was she was suggesting. No. It couldn’t be. But
    if it was . . . Ms. Stover was eyeing him with suspicion, and her lips had gone tight, as if she already
    regretted what little information she’d given.
    He cleared his throat and made his best effort to appear nonthreatening and as if he hadn’t just been
    blown away by the possibility forming in his mind.
    “Ms. Stover, I’m very interested in hiring Bethany. It’s a very well-paying job and it would
    certainly improve her circumstances. If you’re concerned that I’m a jealous lover, crazy ex or current
    husband, I can assure you I am none of those. I can provide my business name and a number of
    references and you may call my partners in business as well as my receptionist to verify my identity
    and my intentions.”
    As he spoke, he shoved his business card at her and watched her eyes widen in surprise. She stared
    up at him, studying him a long moment. Uncertainty was evident as she grappled with whether to trust
    him. He held his breath, waiting. Until finally she appeared to relax and her gaze softened as she
    returned his card.
    “You said her name is Bethany. Can you describe her to me?”
    Jace cleared his throat, barely able to speak past the knot growing there. “Petite. Very thin. Young.
    Maybe mid-twenties? Black hair. Hangs past her shoulders. She was wearing it up in a clip. And she
    has very vivid blue eyes. Unforgettable.”
    At that, the woman’s eyes brightened with recognition and then her face softened. “Yes, I know
    Bethany. She was here Saturday morning to see if we had a bed for the night. It was regrettable, but I
    had to turn her away.” Sorrow was heavy in the older woman’s face. She lifted her hand to smooth
    the silver strands of her hair away from her face. “It’s the thing I hate most about volunteering here,
    when I have to turn women away because we have no room for them. A job would most certainly be
    welcome in her circumstances, I’m sure. She spoke about using this address to give prospective
    employers, but they were odd jobs. A permanent job would be wonderful.”
    Jace’s mouth dropped open in shock. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all. He wanted to refute
    that Bethany was homeless, even as his nagging suspicion had swelled the moment he’d begun
    speaking to Ms. Stover, but then he thought back to Saturday night. The shabbiness of her clothing.
    The tired look in her eyes. The way she’d asked if dinner was part of the proposition. Sweet mother
    of God. He felt sick to his bones. Had she accepted Ash’s offer because it was the only way she had a
    place to sleep that night? Had she felt she had no other choice?
    “Have you seen her since then?” Jace asked tightly.
    Ms.