by Geri Krotow
“She’s not the only one. The studio was full.” She looked around the scene. Trash can, blackened on the inside and slightly along the rim. The scent of recently burned paper and gasoline. A dark shadow of where flames had singed the ceiling looked down at them. A shudder ran through Abi. “That could have sparked the entire building.”
“It could have, but the sprinklers went off in time.” Keith spoke, the resonance of his voice familiar to her after working with him a few short weeks. “Plus the alarms sounded much sooner, from the smoke and fumes. They’re super-sensitive, so much so that we do a lot of runs out here for false alarms when school’s in session.”
“What sets them off? Rubber cement?”
Keith shook his head. “The kids don’t use any of the adhesives that we did, except for plain white liquid glue, no fumes. But the paint removers the teacher uses can set off the alarms. As can the off-glazing of the kiln, depending upon the type of paint they use on the ceramics. And last year we had a false alarm from a scented candle the art teacher burned during a faculty potluck after school.”
“We’d rather have the false alarms.” Rio interrupted Keith. “It’s good practice for the faculty and students to evacuate the building, too.”
“Yeah, we want it to be automatic in case there is ever a real event.” Keith spoke as he looked around at the classroom. “We were lucky today on so many fronts. The kids aren’t here, school isn’t in session and the bastard who started it knew enough to make sure it would burn out before the building caught fire.”
“But they almost blew that, right?” Abi pointed at the singed ceiling.
Keith’s eyes were bright but the lines around his mouth deepened. This really bothered him, having a lunatic loose in his fire jurisdiction. Abi understood. “They most certainly did. God, if I ever get my hands on these sneaky creeps, I can’t be held responsible for what I want to do to them.”
“You get a hold of them, Keith, and that’s all we’ll need to get a conviction.” Rio put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “We’re collecting evidence from all across the county, right, Abi? We’re going to let them walk right into their own trap. Sooner or later one of them has to make a mistake and leave the wrong kind of evidence behind, or be caught in the act.”
“How did he get past SVPD patrol?” She didn’t want to sound so accusing, but the nod from Rio indicated he felt the same frustration.
“They had to be waiting, probably in one of the backyards or even houses that surround the school. We’ve got several officers knocking on doors, asking questions. And they got in from the back somehow. We’re thinking maybe by climbing up the roof from the loading dock. The roof trap was smashed open.”
“My department would be happy to help with the watch duty, Rio.”
Rio shook his head. “That’s SVPD jurisdiction and you know it. I’m sorry we were outwitted but it’s not the fire department’s job to run stakeouts.” The tension between the men was palpable and Abi knew from experience that diffusing it before it got too crazy was more important than her inner desire to scream in frustration that SVPD had let the bad guy sneak in.
“Rio’s right. So are you, Keith. We’re lucky no kids were here.” Although she thought that maybe one of the arsonists being utilized by Leonard Wise could be a youngster. It certainly made sense to her as an outsider. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “Can I take a look?”
Rio raised his hand toward the wastebasket. “Go right ahead. You know as well as the forensics team what you’re doing. Any objections, Keith?”
“I’ve got none.”
“Then I’ll leave you two alone to work your magic. I hope you find more than we did. Abi, report back to the station when you’re done here.”
“Will do.”
* * *
Keith knew Abi Redland ran deep, but had never expected the outburst that came after she’d found out that she’d been notified of the school fire near the end of the active firefighting. He was certain SVPD contacted her—it was up to her to pick up her damned phone or not.
So why did he have the niggle of guilt in his gut? She wasn’t his responsibility. Hell, she worked for SVPD, not for him. And he certainly didn’t report to her.
The classroom seemed smaller with just the two of them than it had with half a dozen forensic and firefighting officers prowling about. Something about the air—it had to be from the leftover burned smell, not from being in the same room alone with Abi. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been alone with a woman before.
“Anything stand out to you?”
Abi didn’t answer him. She had her head inside the trash can, and it looked like she was inhaling the air. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Can you really tell what burned with your nose?”
“Can’t you? You’re as much of a fire expert as I am.” Her voice echoed in the tin can. She didn’t look at him as she straightened and slowly walked around the room. Looking for what, he had no idea.
“Sometimes, but this looks pretty straightforward. Lighter fluid and matches. All I smell is burned paper.”
“And no one found an empty container?”
“Of lighter fluid? No. But we found a half-used book of matches on the floor.”
She stopped in front of him. “Where is it?”
“Forensics took it. They’re not reporting to you now, are they?” He couldn’t help it. She had that smug “I’m the expert here” look on her face again.
“Drop it, Chief.” Ouch.
You’re starting to give a damn, Paruso.
Chapter 9
God, not now. Not during this case, the case that was the cornerstone of clearing his name. Not with Abi, a woman too complex and full of contradictions. He wanted a woman who was simple. Easygoing.
Someone needed to tell that to his dick.
Hopefully, Abi hadn’t noticed his boner. This was a moment worthy of the record books—the first time he didn’t want a woman to know how much she aroused him.
“Did anyone figure out what was in the waste can for sure?”
He shrugged. “Paper, as far as it appears. Nothing unusual there.”
“But school’s not in session. Wouldn’t the janitor have emptied the baskets before the weekend?” She held up bits of charred paper that surrounded the bin. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. “Hey, it’s Abi. Did you guys get samples of the paper burned in the waste bin?” He saw her shake her leg in impatience. “What about the paper on the floor around the counter? I’ll get whatever else I see.” She shoved her phone into her jacket pocket and bent over to pick up a piece of copy paper that was under a worktable next to the counter. It gave him an incredibly advantageous view of her luscious bottom, the multicolored striped yoga pants that were incongruous with her formal detective manner. Did she have any idea how freaking sexy she was?
She straightened and because his attraction to her kept him focused on her curves a beat too long, she caught him red-handed. Staring at her with what was no doubt pure lust radiating off him.
Abi was watching him with her wide eyes, her expression guarded. She felt this, too, this tug that existed since they’d met in the field around the old house. She had to. And yet she still didn’t trust him. Fine.
“What do you think that piece of paper is going to tell you?” It came out rougher than he’d meant. No wonder she didn’t want to trust him—he sounded like a jerk.
She raised her gloved hand, holding up the sheet of white paper with text printed on one side. “This could lead to a lot, or nothing. But one thing’s certain.” She placed the paper on a worktable, pulling an evidence bag from her jacket pocket. He should have turned away, apologized for leering at her, or not taken the bait.
“What’s that?”
“You, Chief Paruso, were just staring at my ass. Correct?”
Was it possible for a grown man to blush like a complete nerd?
“Guilty as charged.”
Haughtiness, feigned superiority, all melted away and what was left on Abi’s face was clear. Pure interest. It was in the way her eyes lit, like they did when she thought she found something significant at a fire scene. The way she tilted her head, very slightly, barely perceptible. But he noticed it because he’d been watching her so closely over the past few days. A feeling he wasn’t overly familiar with splattered open in his chest.
The deadliest signal from Abi was her smile. It mesmerized as she walked toward him, the piece of paper momentarily forgotten. She stopped a foot from him and damned if he didn’t feel his heart fight to keep from exploding.
“Keith, you’re a great catch for Silver Valley, I’m sure. But we’re both professionals, and we both know the long hours and intensity this case is going to require. Hanky-panky isn’t on the docket.”
He choked and coughed, and it wasn’t from the fire residue. “Did you just say ‘hanky-panky’? Are you, like, ninety?”
“I did. And we’re adults. Let’s get it out in the open so that we can let it go.”
Her words made sense, they really did. And he wasn’t one who was used to working for affection from women. He liked to be with women who wanted him as much as he did them.
“Like hell.”
* * *
Abi didn’t resist as he grasped her upper arms and pulled her body up against his. The scents of charred paper and rubber cement yielded to Keith’s musk, definite and uniquely his.
“I’m sure all the girls like this Neanderthal move. It’s quite slick, actually. Do you practice—”
Keith planted a firm kiss on her lips. No tongue, no seductive caresses. Just pure lip-lock. He didn’t even close his eyes. She knew, because hers were still open.
Abi shoved against his chest. “Really? Is that all you’ve got?” As she challenged him she fought the warmth that blazed from her lips, tingling after such an awful first kiss, to her midsection, tightening her nipples along the way.
“You’ve no idea, Abi,” he growled and his eyes even looked leonine as he stared at her.
“At least do it right.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. Gently at first, she kissed and nibbled along his mouth, delighting in the sheer physicality of being this close to him. It was too easy to shove back all of her protesting thoughts, all the reasons she had to not get this close to this man.
It was when she outlined his lips with her tongue that the controlled strength reverberating through every inch of his most muscular frame let loose.
Keith took over their embrace with the finesse she’d normally associate with a ballet dancer, not a firefighter. But the heat in his hands as they cupped her ass and drew her to him, the deft licks of his tongue into her mouth—they were unmistakably full of Keith’s fire.
They gasped and laughed and groped as the kiss continued. Abi couldn’t get enough of his hands on her, and with a deep yearning not unlike that with a first teen love, she wanted to be naked, Keith inside her. Before her thoughts started to intrude she hooked a leg over his hip, and Keith not only lifted it higher, he bent over and grasped her other leg, forcing her to lock her feet behind him. The powerful press of his erection against her softest spot with only his jeans and her yoga pants between them made her dizzy with need.
“Oh, my, oh, my, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” She ran her fingers over his crew cut and pressed his face to hers, needing her lips against his, their tongues intertwined. No kiss had ever felt this incredible.
“Is this how you like it, babe?” He thrust his pelvis up, making her dangerously close to begging him to take her right there, in the art room.
The school classroom.
She was in an elementary school classroom.
Son of a whoopie pie.
“Keith.” He didn’t open his eyes but kept trying to kiss her, his tongue precariously close to forcing her to throw caution to the wind and ignore who she was. What she was—a Trail Hikers agent. “Keith.”
He slowly opened his eyes—blue orbs cloudy with lust—and considered her, his breath hitching in his chest the same as hers. “Hell.” He dropped his hold on her legs and she unceremoniously dropped to the floor, her hold on his shirt all that kept her upright.
“I didn’t mean just drop me on the floor, for heaven’s sake!”
He ran his hand over his head, scratched the back of his neck. The same neck she’d had her lips and tongue on. “This wasn’t very gentlemanly of me, Abi. Sorry.”
“I don’t give a flying flip about manners, Keith. I do care about our professional relationship.” The words spilled out as they were—practiced phrases and beliefs from her FBI time. They were still relevant because as a Trail Hiker her mission came first. Had to come first.
But all at once she didn’t see why being in the Trail Hikers while having the most spectacular sex of her life had to be an oxymoron.
Keith looked down and his silence made her as crazy as when he was trying to tell her how to do her job, or when he acted like the skirt-chaser he had the reputation of being. It was as if he wanted to make sure his words would be the right words. As if...as if Keith cared.
“Keith, we’re not kids. This was a one-time little thing. It doesn’t and won’t affect how we go forward.”
He kept his gaze on the floor, still silent.
“Keith, please say something. I’m sorry that I took advantage of the situation.”
He took two steps to where she’d left the paper in the evidence bag and crouched down. She watched his strong hands as he donned gloves. When he stood again, he held a business card in his hand, which he read. “Check this out, Abi. I think we might have our first big break.”
She walked over to him and took a look, not touching it so as not to get her prints on it. She again noted the incongruity of such a big, physical man being so detailed and adroit, of how his attention to detail had led to him spotting the card.
“Dennis Taylor, US Department of Defense. Army War College, Carlisle, Pennsylvania.” She stared at the raised font on the creamy, expensive card stock. “This could be a parent’s card. Or maybe the art teacher’s husband.”
“The art teacher is Scott MacKenzie. He’s married to Adam Colby, one of my firefighters. And, yes, this could be a parent’s business card, or any other person’s. But my bet’s on something else.”
Abi looked around the room, at the floor that was spotless except for where the shower had left it slick and the few random ashes from the fire had landed. “The janitor cleaned this room on Friday. During summer break he cleans once per week.” The chairs were still upside down on the tables.
“He wouldn’t have missed this area.” Keith motioned to where he’d spotted the card.
“I’ll check it out.” She took another evidence bag out of her pocket and held it, open, toward him. Keith dropped the card between her hands and she sealed the bag. They did work very well together and she was relieved to be back on neutral emotional territory. “I’m going to head to SVPD. I’ll make sure you’re informed about whatever we find out. I think we’re going to have to wait to do our walk-throughs of the other fire sites.” She put both evidence bags in her tote and walked toward the classroom door. She needed space, time away from Keith. Before she made another stupid move. What was she, fourteen with raging hormones?
“No problem. One more thing—you should come to the fire department and make sure you’re on a first-name basis with everyone. Unfortunately, I think we’ll have more instances of you working around us.”
Wow. It had to have cost Keith hugely to offer her a tour of his turf.
“That’d be great. I’d appreciate it.”
“We’ll set up a t
ime soon. And, Abi?”
His voice reached out to her just as she hit the threshold. Not trusting herself to turn fully around, she looked over her shoulder. He stood in the middle of the classroom, his stance relaxed, a lazy grin on his face. “Yeah?”
“That was a great way to blow off some steam.”
* * *
The next week, Keith made good on his promise to call Abi to set up a tour of the fire department. She drove up to the front of the building, parking on Silver Valley’s main street. The façade was over a century old and had been maintained to keep its National Historical Site certification. She’d expected maybe one engine, maybe an EMT vehicle. Pressing the buzzer on the left side of the entrance door, she spoke into the intercom that was similar to the security setup at the police station. “This is Abi Redland. Chief Paruso is expecting me.”
“Be out in a minute, ma’am.” The deep voice wasn’t Keith’s but still sounded familiar. A large figure loomed behind the frosted glass of the entrance door and she came face-to-face with Tiger when he opened the door.
“Tiger. Nice to see you.”
“Abi. Come on in. The chief’s in his office. He had some business to take care of.” Tiger wore a smirk on his face and Abi assumed he and Keith must be friends outside of work.
“So you don’t buzz folks in like they do at the police station? Don’t you have a security camera on the door?”
Tiger walked gracefully for such a muscular man. She was figuring out that firefighters had to be just as physically fit as she had while an FBI agent, or as much as a police officer. They also had to be quick and graceful, which often came out in their stride. Tiger’s stride was smooth, his demeanor almost charming.
“There’s a camera on the door and all other parts of the station, 24/7. We’ve had our share of solicitors lately, so we’ve taken to opening the door only for pre-approved guests. That includes any firefighter on duty or off, and their spouses. Some of the girlfriends, too. As you can see for yourself.” He shot her a grin and motioned at an open office door.