Deadly Heat

by Cynthia Eden

  The scent of sex in the air just made the lust drumming in his veins all the harder to control. “I want more.” More than the night they’d had.

  Her smile dimmed, just a bit.

  What the hell? A one-night stand? Is that really all she’d wanted from him—

  “Okay.” Soft, hesitant. Lora sure hadn’t struck him as the hesitant type. “After my rotation ends, if you’re done…”

  Done chasing a killer. Done examining bodies and seeing hell.

  “Come to me.”

  Like he had to be asked twice.

  He kissed her.

  Addictive.

  Damn, he hadn’t counted on her. Sure hadn’t expected her to be in the middle of his case. But now that he had her, he wouldn’t give her up.

  Not yet.

  “You’re not going to like this,” Monica told Kenton the minute he walked into their temporary office at the police station. Located next to the bullpen, the office was small, kind of cramped, but it gave them a bit of privacy away from eavesdropping cops.

  He raised his brows. “What, about this case, have I liked so far?” He figured that there wasn’t going to be a big change coming. The case was shit, no matter how you looked at it. Kenton glanced to the right. “Have fun tailing me last night?” he asked Ramirez.

  The guy grinned, and his black gaze glinted. “Had fun seeing that sexy lady yank you in by your fancy suit.”

  Sexy lady. Kenton’s eyes narrowed and a stab of jealousy sliced into his gut. “Watch it.”

  The grin didn’t fade.

  Kenton’s back teeth clenched, and he gritted out, “Other than ogling Lora, did you see anything I need to know about last night?”

  “Your girl’s got great legs.” A shrug. “And I didn’t see a damn thing else. No one was checking out that area on foot, and there weren’t any vehicles that didn’t belong in the neighborhood.”

  “There might not have been any sign of him yet,” Monica said, raising her voice. “But I’m thinking…” She shook her head. “He’s not going to wait long after that broadcast. He’ll hit fast, and he’ll hit hard.”

  Lora was on duty. Kenton’s heart rate kicked up. “We want him coming after me, not anyone else.”

  “Right.” Monica’s heels tapped on the floor as she paced the close confines of the space. “While he’s planning his move, we need to hunt him. We need to figure out who he is—and where he is.”

  “How?” Ramirez crossed his arms over his chest and waited. The guy was good at waiting. He was also good at remaining freakishly still.

  “We’re going to talk to the arson investigator, Seth MacIntyre,” Kenton said. He’d tried to get the guy before, but Seth had been out at a scene.

  Monica’s nails tapped the edge of the desk. “I want to see his files.” Kenton knew Monica really meant that she wanted to rip apart his files.

  “But first,” Monica said, “and this is the part you’re not going to like.”

  He held up his hand. “I already know.” And he did. It was a simple matter of connecting the dots. “We’re going to the Bringham station.”

  She nodded. “We need to interview every man and woman there.”

  Kenton’s jaw tightened. Sometimes there were parts of the job that he damn well didn’t like. “Lora’s clear.” He wanted to be definite on that. Yeah, they needed to question the firefighters, but Lora was clear. She’d been in his arms, her mouth soft and tempting against his, when that psycho had called in to the station.

  “We don’t know what we’re dealing with here.” Monica’s nails stopped tapping. “Maybe it’s not just one killer. Maybe it’s two. Maybe that wasn’t the real arsonist on the phone. Maybe it was some poor idiot that he hired to call—and we’ll find his burnt corpse in a few days.”

  She shook her head. “One thing I learned long ago, assume nothing about the serials. They don’t think like regular folks, so if you’re going after them, you have to think like them.”

  Dammit, he knew that, too. The SSD had taught him to trust no one but the team.

  “After the last case, we don’t take anything or anyone for granted,” Monica said. “We investigate all leads and, as much as you might not like it because of your, ah… situation—”

  “Him screwing the hot female firefighter,” Ramirez offered.

  “Fuck off,” Kenton fired back. Like Monica was in a position to judge a delicate “situation.” “Ice” had hooked up with the new guy at the SSD just days after Luke Dante had joined the team. She could stop throwing those stones at his house any old time.

  Her lips tightened. “We can’t overlook any of the fire departments in this town. They have to be checked. Everyone has to be checked.”

  And wouldn’t he be Mister Popular when he rolled in at the Bringham station. Lora was going to love this. “She called the SSD.” This arsonist had killed her lover. No way would she be helping him. “She wouldn’t—”

  “I don’t think she would. As I said last night, I believe our perp is a male.”

  Well, that was something.

  “I think Lora’s motive in all of this…” She wet her lips and cleared her throat, and his stare sharpened on her as she continued, “Lora Spade lost someone who was close to her. She views these attacks as being very, very personal. And I think—I think she’d do just about anything to bring down the killer.”

  “The lady’s not just jonesing for you.” Ramirez cocked a dark eyebrow. “She wants revenge.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Kenton didn’t blame her.

  Not one bit.

  “You know, don’t you…” There was hesitation in Monica’s voice. “She was the one who went back into the flames for him. The chief ordered an evacuation…” She walked around the desk. Picked up a folder and flipped through the contents. “But Lora went back inside and pulled Creed out. He was still alive, but not for long.”

  She’d gone back into the flames to save the guy.

  Must have loved him one whole hell of a lot. Enough to face the flames. But then, a woman like Lora would love like that.

  Fire and heat and passion.

  Loved so much—she’d risked death. And now she hunted his killer.

  And she’d thought about the guy last night.

  Fuck.

  He spun around. The office’s blinds were up. He could see straight across to the bullpen, and he could see Carter Creed’s grinning face.

  The man who’d had Lora. All of her.

  “I can come along. I’m great at backup,” Ramirez said, his voice quiet.

  “No,” Monica’s answer came immediately. “You need to get to bed. Kenton and I can handle this.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t worry, Ramirez. There are plenty of firefighters to go around. You can take the next station.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Shit. Kenton knew the drill. Wasn’t anything new. But—

  But he didn’t want Lora thinking he believed she was a suspect. He knew the woman was innocent. And when she found out he was interrogating her friends…

  Hello, cold shoulder.

  Pity, he sure liked things hot with her.

  He yanked open the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Because as much as it grated, he knew Monica was right. They had to do the interviews. You could tell a lot about a man—or a woman—when you had him locked down in an interview. Secrets came out then.

  Some good.

  Most bad.

  And if the killer turned out to be a man on Lora’s team…

  Well, hell, what better place to hide than in plain sight?

  Kenton wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but walking into the firehouse on Bringham Boulevard to find Lora wrestling with some sweaty blond bastard really hadn’t been part of the plan.

  They rolled across the floor. Twisted. Lora came up on top and did a fast shimmy. The guy grabbed her shoulder, yanked her back—

  And she flipped him, sending him f
lying on his stomach.

  “Two minutes! Spade takes ’em down!” A guy wearing gym shorts and a sweat-soaked white T-shirt pumped his arms in the air. “Another one bites that firehouse dust, huh, Lora?”

  She pushed up, grinning, and Kenton froze because he felt like she’d just punched him. Hard.

  Then she blinked, and her gaze drifted to the right. To him. “Kent—what are you doing here?” Her lips parted, and she jumped off the sparring mat. “Has something happened? Did you find the bastard?”

  “No.” The booming answer didn’t come from him. Or even from Monica, who stood like a shadow beside him. Frank Garrison stalked into the room. Garrison flatly announced, “They’re here to talk to you all.”

  The exercise room got real quiet, real fast. The guy lifting weights froze. The woman running on the treadmill jumped off. All their eyes hit him.

  “Talk to us?” Lora asked as she caught the towel one of the others tossed her, and then swiped it across her forehead. “Why?”

  “Because the SSD thinks the killer knows a little too much about fire.” Garrison pushed by Kenton. “So they’re gonna be questioning everyone at all the stations in the city.”

  “I told you last night, the killer’s a fire freak, not a firefighter.” This came from the guy Lora had sent flying. Quint. Max Quint. He’d already started a file on the guy. A firefighter and paramedic. He’d transferred down from New York about two years ago.

  “And I’m afraid we have to explore every possibility,” Monica said, her voice carrying easily and hinting at just the softest southern drawl. “This is standard procedure in a case like this, and it’s certainly not meant to make any of you here feel—”

  “Like a suspect?” Lora offered, her fingers tightening around the towel. “Lady, we fight his fires. We lost a man to that bastard. He’s not one of us.” Rage had her voice shaking.

  “Maybe,” Monica offered, and Kenton saw the firefighters relax a bit, until she added, “Maybe not.”

  CHAPTER Seven

  Lora’s temples pounded as she stared at Kenton. He stood there, stiff and tall, but not quite meeting her eyes. After last night, after this morning, she sure hadn’t expected this from him.

  But he’d told her. So had Hyde.

  They didn’t trust her. But they were ready to use her.

  “Some killers are very good at deception. They’re good at showing folks exactly what they want them to see.” Special Agent Davenport’s gaze swept the room. “You look, and you don’t see a man who has just torched a house and killed a woman. You don’t see a guy who just burned a handicapped man to death. You see a friend. A coworker.” Her shoulders lifted. “You don’t see the killer until he comes after you.”

  Lora’s hands fisted in the towel.

  “Chief, come on, you can’t let them—” Max began.

  But Frank shook his bald head. “The conference room has been cleared. You guys are up.” His finger stabbed at Max. “Quint, you’re first.”

  Frank turned away.

  “Garrison?”

  Kenton’s voice halted the chief. Frank glanced back.

  “We’re gonna need to talk with you, too.”

  Frank’s jaw tightened, but he nodded.

  Lora’s jaw dropped. The chief? No damn way. Lora sucked in a breath and marched over to Kenton. He’d turned to speak to Monica, but Lora grabbed his arm. “Did you know about this?” she whispered, glaring up at him. “Last night, did you know?” Because if he’d come to her bed knowing he’d be raking her and her team over the coals today—I’ll rip the guy a new one.

  His head moved in a slow shake. “It’s procedure.”

  “Fuck procedure.” It was hard to talk when anger boiled in her gut. The others were filing out. Some muttering. “You really think I could have something to do with this?” Lora asked. To think Kenton believed that, after last night… “And the chief? Frank?” Not Frank. He’d been with her through too much. He’d never do something like this.

  Lora shoved by Kenton. “Screw off, GQ.”

  He grabbed her, hands too tight, and spun her back around. “Lora, it’s procedure,” he gritted out. “I know you’re clear, but the questions have to be asked, and they have to answered, for the record.”

  He knew she was clear. That was something, but what about Garrison?

  “Ahem.” The chief slammed one ham hand onto Kenton’s shoulder. “Something I should know about here?”

  “Yes, sir.” Lora glanced his way. Not the chief. “I had sex with Agent Lake last night. Full disclosure.”

  “Lora—” Kenton’s brows shot up. “What the hell—”

  “Damn, Spade, I thought you had better taste.” The chief released him and stalked out of the room. “Much better.” He threw the words over his shoulder.

  Lora bared her teeth at Kenton. “Me, too.” Then she turned and marched right out after Garrison.

  Max Quint slapped his palms down on the table. “Let’s get this shit over with. What do you need? Alibis? Witnesses?” His bushy blond brows rose. “I was working with the team when Charlie Skofield died. I was here when the call came in, surrounded by a dozen men—and Lora. I didn’t set that damn fire, I wouldn’t hurt any of my—”

  “Why did you become a firefighter?” Monica asked, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. She had her files already stacked in front of her. That was Monica. Always calm and always organized.

  Let’s see what secrets you have.

  Monica was good at finding secrets. And hiding her own.

  “Huh?” Quint rocked back on the rear legs of the chair. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  Monica smiled her harmless smile. The cold one. But then, she didn’t really have a warm one. Not like Lora did—warm enough to singe a man. “Just answer the question.”

  He smiled back with a lot of teeth. “I’m an adrenaline junkie. What can I say?” He raised his hands and spread them wide. “I like the thrill of fighting fires.”

  Lie. Sure, Kenton knew some fire eaters did the job because they liked the rush, but Max was too cocky right then. The guy just seemed to be putting on a show for them and saying what he thought they wanted to hear.

  Max winked. “And the women think I’m sexy as hell in my uniform.” Max shot Kenton a glance from the corner of his eye. “Ask Lora. She’ll tell you. The ladies can’t get enough of me.”

  Kenton stared right back at him. Max didn’t blink.

  Monica flipped open her file. “Hmmm… an adrenaline junkie? It says here that both your father and grandfather were firefighters. Your dad—he died on the job.” A pause. “Guess they liked the adrenaline, too.”

  “My dad was a damn good firefighter!” Max blasted.

  Ah, now they were seeing some real emotion from the guy.

  “You don’t know how many lives he saved,” Max snarled. “He didn’t give a shit about—”

  “Oh?” Her head tilted back. “He didn’t care about the sex and the high from the fires? Not like you, huh?”

  His fingers balled into fists.

  “How old were you when he died?” Kenton asked, knowing it was time to slide his questions in and divide the guy’s focus.

  Max’s head nodded toward the files. “She knows. Let her tell you.”

  “You were sixteen,” Monica said.

  Max’s jaw worked. “My old man died a hero. A hero. He saved five people from that building on Kurtworth. He made a difference.”

  “He did,” she agreed and closed the file. But then Monica reached for another. “But your grandfather… he was another matter, right?”

  Max flinched but Monica kept talking. “He started those fires that he fought in New York, didn’t he? The guy went to jail because he was a—what did you call it a few moments ago?”

  “Fire freak,” Kenton supplied, watching the guy closely.

  “Right,” Monica agreed.

  Max’s fists slammed into the table. “I’m nothing like him.”

&n
bsp; “Well…” Kenton crossed his arms over his chest and carefully studied the guy. “That’s what we’re here to find out.” Time to cut through the lies.

  The door slammed behind Max forty minutes later.

  “Making friends left and right,” Kenton muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “It’s not about making friends.” Monica straightened her files. “It’s about saving lives.”

  Kenton heard raised voices from the hallway. A distinct “Piss off” came from Max. Exhaling heavily, Kenton said, “My gut tells me that’s not our guy. His alibis are gonna check out, and he’s got too much rage at his grandfather—too much hate for what he did. The last thing he wants is to walk in his footsteps.”

  “I think you’re right.” So she pushed his file away. “One down.”

  The stack of files was huge. It was going to be a long afternoon. He reached for the next file.

  Frank Garrison. Yeah, this one wouldn’t go easily. He rose and walked to the door. He twisted the knob.

  Garrison was waiting for Kenton when he opened the door. One of Garrison’s thick brows lifted. “My turn, Special Agent?”

  After this much time in the business, Garrison should know the drill. Kenton nodded and stepped back to make room for the chief to enter.

  Garrison took his time getting seated. He stretched out his legs and eased back in the chair, letting his arms hang loosely at his sides.

  Kenton closed the door and went back to his seat. Monica already had Garrison’s file open.

  “I don’t have any secrets,” Garrison said, shrugging. “And I’m not the one you’re looking at for these fires.”

  Everyone had secrets. Kenton’s gaze held Garrison’s. “You wanted Lora to bring in the SSD.”

  “Lora had a hunch. Her hunches are usually sound.” The deep lines around Garrison’s mouth tightened. “And I didn’t want to run the risk of burying any more of my men.”

  Sounded like the truth. Garrison’s gaze was steady and his voice was calm and easy. But Kenton didn’t really think the guy was the calm and easy sort.

  Monica’s nail skimmed down the report. “You were the one who gave the order to evacuate at the Skofield scene.” She glanced up at him. “Even though you knew one of your own team members was inside, you told the others to leave Carter behind.”