Deadly Heat

by Cynthia Eden

  She shot up in bed. “Wade? Wade’s up?” Her heart jumped in her chest.

  “Yeah. Hot damn, he’s talking.” Excitement had his voice breaking. “You saved him! Docs say he’ll pull through! He’ll need some grafts, some therapy, but he’ll make it!”

  There were voices in the background, laughing and talking. Their volume rising fast.

  “We ain’t losing him, not like—” Frank broke off.

  And right then, the silence was defeaning.

  Like Carter.

  She licked lips that felt numb. “I’m glad. Tell Sherri”—Wade’s wife of two months—“I’m glad he’s gonna make it.” Thank you, God.

  Because she hadn’t wanted to bury another friend, hadn’t wanted to see the dark casket slide into the ground. All the damn flowers surrounding the giant hole in the ground, their scent choking her.

  “I’ll tell her.” Silence, then, “Lora? Lora, you still there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “You did damn good, you hear me? You got him out. You did damn good.”

  “Thanks, Chief.” She hung up the phone. Lora stared down at her hands and saw the splatter of teardrops hit her fingers.

  “Heard you and Lora are getting… close.”

  Seth’s words froze Kenton right in front of the hollowed-out shell of the Randalls’ house on Millway. “And where the hell did you hear that?”

  Seth glanced back, his eyes narrowed. “I used to work in that station. I got friends there, and station gossip travels fast.”

  And Lora had bold-as-you-please announced to her chief that they were sleeping together. Kenton grunted. “Don’t really see how this is any of your business.”

  Two men came out. They pushed a gurney, one carrying a zipped-up black bag. Randall.

  That bag sure didn’t look very big.

  “Lora and I don’t always see eye to eye.”

  Kenton glanced back at him.

  “But I respect her, and I respected Carter. I was there that night. When Carter got caught in the flames, I saw her—” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Lora needs to heal. She hasn’t had time to—”

  Fuck this. Kenton stepped close to him, toe-to-toe. “Work the case and let me fucking worry about Lora.” Because the last thing he needed was this prick telling him how to handle his woman.

  Oh, Christ.

  The thought registered two seconds too late.

  His.

  But she was. Because even in the midst of this hell, he could smell her. Her scent was on him, pushing back the smoke. He could taste her, feel her against him.

  “She’s using you, man.” Seth’s hands formed tight fists. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I know her, and I’m trying to help you.”

  Like he needed this shit.

  “She’s done it before, Lake. You’re not him. She won’t—”

  What the hell? “Work the damn case,” he ordered. Because this guy was pushing, and in another three seconds, Kenton was gonna push back.

  Seth whirled around and almost slammed into the guys hauling out a second gurney, one carrying another black bag.

  Two? “No one told me there was another body inside.” Monica hadn’t known either. This changed things. Shit.

  Seth tossed a fast glance over his shoulder. “Michael Randall started playing with fire when he was six years old, right around the time his mother started burning him with her cigarettes.” Seth’s eyes glittered at him. “Hailey… had a bad problem with booze.”

  The gurney rolled past them, the wheels grinding.

  “To a screwed-up kid, fire became love.” Seth shook his head. “This time, he showed his mother one hell of a lot of love.”

  Hell. “You knew about the second body? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  Seth held up his phone. “Got the call on the way here. Haven’t ID’d her yet, won’t, until the dental records come back, but I know Hailey was here. This was her place. Techs say her booze started the fire.”

  No, that would have been her son.

  Right around the time his mother started burning him with cigarettes. Fuck. Didn’t people understand? Didn’t they get it? Half the bastards he chased, they weren’t evil because of some chemical imbalance. They were twisted because they’d been taught to act that way.

  A victim one day, a killer the next. It was the way nature worked.

  Kenton felt the same disgust that he saw in Seth’s eyes as they watched the two bags get loaded into the van. Two lives gone. Hauled away like garbage.

  “Come on, Special Agent,” Seth said as he grabbed some airtight containers from the back of the vehicle. Evidence collection. “Let’s go work the fucking case.”

  Kenton stepped forward, but then the purr of a car’s engine froze him. He glanced up and saw Lora driving up to the scene.

  Seth spun away and headed for the house.

  Kenton stalked toward Lora. When she parked, he pulled open the car door. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  Her face looked pale and a bit strained. “I need to keep working this case with you.”

  He forced his teeth to unlock. He was worried about her, but the damn truth was that he could use her eyes. MacIntyre had missed evidence before. Kenton didn’t want to risk another mistake.

  So he stepped back and let Lora exit the car. They walked together toward the blackened entrance of the house. She hesitated near the steps for a long moment. Kenton was reminded of her stumbling out of the burning house again, her hands locked on Wade.

  She straightened her shoulders and went inside.

  “There are multiple points of origin on this one,” Seth called out.

  “There had to be,” Lora said as her gaze drifted around the shell of the house. “When Randall came out, he had lighters in both hands. Liquid accelerant was everywhere, and he was lighting the place up as fast as he could.”

  Kenton brushed his fingers down her arm and saw the slight shiver that shook her body. “You okay?”

  Her eyes found his. “He almost took out one of my team members last night. Hell, no, I’m not okay.” Her shoulders straightened. “But I’m not broken either.”

  No, she wasn’t.

  “Got something back here!” Seth’s voice had Kenton tensing. Carefully, they made their way through the small house. Seth was in the back room, crouched low. The room was blackened, charred far worse than many of the other areas.

  Seth glanced back at them and grunted. “Another point of origin.” He gestured before him. “The female victim’s remains were found here. Based on the placement, the techs think she was sleeping when the fire started.”

  “Any signs she was restrained?” Kenton asked, but the room had been burned to hell and back, so he doubted that any evidence had been left behind.

  Seth exhaled on a hard sigh as he sealed one of the containers that he’d carried into the room. “Hailey loved her booze. Odds are good the woman was passed out. If she didn’t try to escape, I doubt she even realized the fire was around her.”

  Dead to the world.

  “Broken bottles were all around the interior of the house,” Lora said, and her voice was far more subdued than normal. Right, because she’d almost died there the night before. “Looks like Hailey’s alcohol was the accelerant.”

  Seth lifted the container. “Yeah, we’ll officially confirm that real soon.”

  Beneath the scent of soot and ash, Kenton could still smell the odor of whiskey and tequila. He had no doubt what the accelerant had been. And if the guy had used the booze…

  “He brings the accelerant when he knows there isn’t anything on site.” Excitement had his heart thumping faster.

  Seth and Lora both turned to him.

  “He knew there were accelerants he could use at Hatchen’s garage.” Motor oil and gas. “So he used what was on scene.” And that had thrown off the arson investigators. “This time, he knew there’d be plenty of alcohol to use.” No need to bring another accelerant, not when the place
was ready to blow on its own.

  “He would’ve had to know the Randalls,” Seth said, “if he came in—”

  “He came in knowing he’d set this place ablaze,” Kenton broke over the arson investigator’s words. “And he came in knowing that he didn’t have to bring a damn thing to start the job.” Because everything he needed had been right there.

  So easy to slip in when the scene is already set for you.

  “He’d been here before,” Kenton said as he surveyed the soggy, black remains of the house. “The bastard was here.” There one day to visit, there the next to kill.

  One cold sonofabitch.

  A calculating killer who’d taken the time to get to know his prey.

  CHAPTER Ten

  When they finally finished the sweep of the house, Lora and Kenton headed back outside. She sucked in the clean air, hating the bitter taste that always filled her mouth at an arson investigation scene.

  Kenton stared at the older houses that lined the street. The houses were packed tightly together. “If he came here before, then someone might have seen him.”

  She rubbed arms that shouldn’t have been chilled. “The police canvassed the scene last night, right?”

  “They interviewed everyone here.” His gaze zeroed in on the house directly across the pothole-lined street. The house that would’ve had the best view of the Randalls’ place. “But maybe they just didn’t ask the right questions.”

  He strode forward, heading for the light gray house with the broken shutter. Lora yanked off her latex gloves and followed behind him.

  Kenton pulled out his badge as he walked across the street. “They didn’t ask about visitors who might have been here long before the fire.”

  Excitement had her heart leaping. Could this be it? Oh, damn, but she hoped Phoenix had screwed up.

  The old porch groaned when Kenton hurried up the steps. “Stay behind me,” he told her.

  Kenton knocked on the door. The faded wood rattled.

  Footsteps thudded behind the door. It opened a few inches and a grizzled face poked out. “What the hell do you want?”

  Kenton moved forward, and she noticed that he positioned his right foot just inside that open door. He lifted his badge. “FBI, sir. I need to ask you some questions about—”

  The guy snarled and tried to slam the door shut. Not gonna happen. Kenton braced the door and—

  The man—balding, with thick arms and a burly chest—yelled when the door didn’t close. But instead of running back inside, he charged at Kenton.

  “Fucking asshole! You ain’t taking me back!” He barreled right into Kenton.

  Lora screamed.

  Kenton didn’t make a sound. He dropped his badge and caught the guy with a hard left hook. The attacker stumbled, blinked.

  “I told you, I’m with the FBI, and you need to—”

  The man just came at him again. His fist plowed into Kenton’s stomach.

  “Screw this,” Kenton muttered. He grabbed the guy’s arms, spun him around, and slammed the man face-first into the doorframe. The man’s body sagged, and only Kenton’s hold seemed to keep him upright. “Asshole, come at me again, and it’ll be the last mistake you make.”

  Lora’s breath rasped out. The violence had been fast and intense, and Kenton didn’t seem to have even broken a sweat.

  But he had his gun out now, and they all heard the soft snick as he released the safety.

  Lora realized her hands were balled into fists.

  “Ease back, Lora,” Kenton ordered quietly.

  Uh, right. She hurried back a few steps.

  Kenton flipped the jerk around, and his gun stayed locked right on the guy’s chest. The man froze at the sight. Then, after a heartbeat of time, he started talking, fast, “Pl-please m-man… I just didn’t want to go back to jail…”

  Kenton grunted. “And you thought swinging at an FBI agent was the way to stay on the streets? Wrong move, dumbass.”

  “I just sold a l-little bit, okay? Just a couple of d-dime bags…”

  The guy was a dealer? That was why he’d attacked?

  “What’s your name?” Kenton asked.

  “Q-Quint. Quint Harley.”

  “Well, Quint, I wasn’t here because of the drugs.” Kenton wasn’t lowering his gun, and Lora thought that was a good choice. She didn’t trust the dealer not to slam into him again. “I wanted to ask you some questions about the Randalls.”

  The dealer’s bulging eyes blinked a few times. “H-Hailey and that weird kid? They burned last night. Didn’t—didn’t you hear?”

  “We heard,” Lora said flatly, crossing her hands over her chest.

  Quint glanced her way, squinting against the sunlight.

  “Before your ass gets hauled to jail,” Kenton said, “tell me who’s been visiting the Randalls.”

  Quint shook his head. “N-no one. They weren’t real big on visitors.”

  No, Hailey hadn’t exactly been the welcoming kind.

  “You had to see somebody,” Kenton pressed. “I want physical descriptions, I want vehicle descriptions, I want—”

  But Quint was still shaking his head. “I’m tellin’ you… they didn’t have company. Hell, the only cars I ever saw over there were black-and-whites. Cops were the only damn visitors they had.”

  Kenton grunted. “So the boy kept causing trouble?”

  “Nah, he was quiet once he came back. But Hailey screamed at him all the time. Heard her tell him that she’d be tossing his ass on the street soon.”

  Only Hailey hadn’t tossed her son out. She’d burned instead.

  So Michael had known that his mother was getting ready to dump him. Had that been what pushed him over the edge? Yeah, that could have broken the kid’s already damaged mind.

  “Hey, man!” Harley’s brows rose, and a flash of hope had his lips curving. “Since I told you, does that mean you’ll let me go?”

  “No, it means you’ll be heading to jail. You’re under arrest for assaulting a federal officer.”

  Kenton was bone tired when he pulled up in front of Lora’s house that night. After he’d gotten a black-and-white cruiser to take Harley into the station, he’d interviewed the other neighbors. No one remembered any visitors at the Randall house. Most folks hadn’t seemed to care enough to ever bother glancing over that way. All the memories were of cop cars, nothing else.

  After leaving the neighborhood, he’d verified Garrison’s story about the school and his whereabouts at the time of the Randall fire. A teacher remembered Garrison cutting out right after he’d gotten a page.

  After he’d checked out Garrison, Kenton spent a few hours interviewing the pyros that Peter hauled into the station. He’d watched as Peter tossed the fire photos in front of them. No one’s reaction had raised his suspicions. Then, while Monica and Jon had checked out more firefighters in the area, Kenton had talked to the families of the victims and seen their grief. He and Monica had suspects. Oh, yeah, they had a whole shitload of them. But they didn’t have Phoenix.

  All in all, it had been one real bitch of a day.

  Sighing, Kenton shoved his SUV’s door open. He wanted to see Lora. His hand stretched back into the passenger seat and grabbed the roses that he’d picked up.

  Because he didn’t just want hot sex with her. Well, he did. But tonight, he wanted more.

  A date. It would be a new experience for him. Usually, he didn’t exactly stick around for date time.

  As he turned his head and caught sight of the front porch, he saw her.

  But Lora didn’t see him. She was too busy throwing her arms around some other asshole. Some tall, blond-headed ass who had his hands on her, his body pressed against hers.

  The sound of her laughter reached his ears, light and warm.

  She leaned up and kissed the man’s cheek.

  What the fuck.

  She turned, and the guy slipped past her, heading right into her house.

  “She’s using you, man. She’s done it be
fore. You’re not him. She won’t—”

  Seth’s words rang in his head. He’d wanted to punch the asshole at the time. Now he wanted to slam his fist into the face of the asshole who’d just gone into Lora’s house.

  She’d kissed him.

  Kenton slammed his car door.

  Lora turned at the sound. “Kent?” She glanced back at the house and then at him. She hurried forward, coming to stand at the end of the porch. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  His fingers clenched around the flowers. Idiot. “I told you I’d be by tonight.” Because he’d wanted to check on her. He knew Wade had pulled through those first life-or-death hours, but he’d wanted to check on her.

  No, he’d wanted her.

  “You did?” She eased down the top step. “Sorry, I, um, don’t remember you telling me that.”

  Probably because she’d been unconscious. His eyes locked on her face and then slowly slid to the open front door. “Looks like you’ve already got company.”

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and her eyes darted back to the open door. “Um, yeah, this isn’t a really good time for me.”

  His jaw clenched. “I don’t share, Lora.”

  Her brows scrunched. “Share what?”

  The wooden porch creaked. “Lora?” The asshole’s voice. The guy stood in the doorway, his face half-hidden in shadows. “Lora, there a problem out here?”

  Kenton bounded up the steps. “Yeah, there’s a problem. You.”

  “Kenton!” Lora’s strangled voice. “Don’t—”

  Fuck that. No way was he about to step aside while Lora got all nice and cozy with this prick. “Lora happen to tell you what she did last night? I mean, who?”

  “Oh, my God.” Lora really sounded like she was choking. Tough. He’d deal with her later, and he’d make it pretty fucking clear that while they were together, it would just be them.

  Not that jackass standing there, clenching his fists, and not either of the other two tall linebacker types who were suddenly crowding in behind him.

  Two other—

  Well, shit.

  “You got a problem with him,” one of the guys snapped, “then you got a problem with all of us!”

  Lora’s nails dug into the skin of Kenton’s back, hard and deep. “My brothers…”