Deadly Heat

by Cynthia Eden

  She lifted her gaze to his. The lamp was on beside them, spilling light onto the bed. “I’m okay.” But her lips curled as she stared at him. He looked so serious, with that faint line between his brows and the stubble lining his jaw. “But if you need to fuck me one more time, just to be sure…” She leaned up and licked his lips. “Go right ahead.”

  The laugh came, just as she’d wanted. A hard and deep rumble.

  At the sound, something inside her eased. Finally.

  “He didn’t get me,” she told him. “But the bastard really did manage to piss me off.” She loved that house. Loved it. She’d painted every inch of it herself, over Jake’s protests. The fact that the guy owned a painting company didn’t mean he had to paint her house.

  And she’d redone the kitchen on her own. She’d worked in the bathroom with Ryan and even put in new floors with Jake and Ben. Ryan had supervised everything, of course, since construction was his business.

  They’d all worked hard. Together, they’d turned the old house into her beautiful new home.

  Now…

  She blinked back the tears that wanted to fill her eyes.

  No, the arsonist hadn’t hurt her, not physically. But maybe that had been his plan. If he’d wanted the whole house to go up—fast—she knew he could have done it. But there’d been time for her to get out. Time to run. And the cops had been there.

  She bet Phoenix had seen them. He seemed to see everything. “I think he did it just to show he could.” Her words came, slowly, as she thought about the killer in the dark. Because if he’d really wanted her to burn…

  The fire would have been inside. He’d run a line of gasoline all the way around her house. Outside.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “The fire… I think it was a taunt. An I-can-get-to-you slap right in my face.” Because he’d wanted her to know that if he wanted her to burn, she’d burn.

  No, bastard, I won’t.

  “He knew exactly how to set the burn line so that the fire would stay on the edges of the house, and I’d be able to get out.” She shook her head. “If he wanted me dead, the fire would have ripped inside.” But he hadn’t wanted her dead. “He’s jerking us around.”

  “Maybe not us.” His words came slowly, still rough, deep. “Maybe just you.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s been you all along.”

  Lora shook her head. “Uh, no, I don’t think—”

  But he was shooting up in bed. “Those first four fires, they were when you were on duty. He planned those. Every detail. Every moment.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t on duty when that last poor guy was torched—”

  “Larry Powell was killed because he was a witness.”

  Uh, who? Her brows climbed. “Run that by me again.”

  “The dental records came back. The man handcuffed to the radiator? That was Larry Powell—”

  “The survivor from the fire on LeRoy.” Her shoulders slumped. He’d escaped one hell, only to have the flames seal him in another. “Why?”

  “Because I think Phoenix thought Powell was a loose end—and our guy doesn’t like loose ends.”

  Lora shook her head, aware of a growing chill in the room. No, not in the room. The chill was in her bones.

  “He wasn’t a planned vic, not like the others.” Kenton’s words came faster. “Phoenix didn’t have time to waste on him. He couldn’t pick the right moment. He had to act.”

  The right moment?

  “Changed his pattern,” he muttered, and Lora didn’t think the guy was really talking to her then. More to himself.

  “You shift up rotations, right?” Kenton fired at her.

  Lora nodded. “Every few days.”

  “You even said it, when Monica and I—” He broke off, but she helpfully supplied…

  “When you two had me stuck in that interrogation?”

  “You had alibis, remember? That’s what you told me, because you were working every shift.” Kenton jumped out of bed.

  Her brows rose as her eyes dropped to his ass. He had a really nice ass.

  But then Kenton yanked on his pants.

  Ah, well.

  Lora didn’t bother getting dressed. She just watched him. He was pacing, a lot. The guy was on to something.

  “It was right fucking in front of me, and I didn’t see it.”

  “What was in front of you?”

  He whirled to face her. “You.”

  She was really not liking the sound of that.

  “You’re the connection, Lora. Seth was right. You’re the link in all this.”

  “There’s no way! I didn’t even know who those other vics were.”

  “There’s something about you.” His eyes narrowed in an assessing stare. “Something that’s tying you to this guy. To these fires.” He stepped closer. “There’s no coincidence with perps like this. There never is. The pattern—it was your shift. He set those fires when you were working. There’s gotta be a reason for it.”

  Her palms pressed into the bed. She didn’t like this. Didn’t like where this was heading, not at all.

  But Kenton had his phone out and was punching in numbers with fast swipes of his fingers. Who was he calling this late?

  “Hey—it’s Lake. That search we’ve been running? See if you can link the vics back to Lora Spade.”

  Chillbumps rose on her arms.

  “Yeah, that’s right. The firefighter.”

  No, no, this didn’t make sense.

  “I need this ASAP, man. Fuck, I need it yesterday.”

  She pulled up the sheet, slowly, to cover her breasts. Lora thought about the fires. The bodies.

  The victims she hadn’t been able to save—the ones that haunted her.

  And she thought about the games that killers could play.

  Such twisted, sick games.

  CHAPTER Thirteen

  A pounding woke Lora the next morning. A pounding loud enough to have her groaning and shoving up in bed.

  Then she realized, damn fast, that she wasn’t in her bed.

  Smoke.

  Flames.

  Phoenix.

  She was still naked. Lora scrambled, finding her shorts and her top, yanking them on just as Kenton opened the bathroom door.

  Oh, he would be fully dressed.

  His gaze found her and seemed to heat.

  “Um… you expecting company?” Her voice came out husky. Jeez, what time was it? Seven A.M.? Had she managed to get a whole two and a half hours of sleep?

  Kenton shook his head before he hurried across the room and checked through the peephole. His shoulders stiffened, but he opened the door.

  Lora shoved back her hair and lifted her chin.

  “Morning, sunshine.” The rumbling voice of the other agent, Ramirez, reached her easily. He shouldered past Kenton, a brown bag in his hands. When he caught sight of her, standing next to the rumpled bed—didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d done last night—one black brow rose. “Lora.” He rolled the L on her name, let it go long and deep.

  The agent’s gaze raked over her.

  “Watch it.” Kenton’s snarled order came right at the same time as her—

  “Eyes up, buddy. Up.” She needed clothes. Clothing was definitely priority number one.

  Ramirez grinned at her, his lips stretching in a slow smile. “You are so wasted on him.” The guy took a step closer. “I brought you a present.”

  She wasn’t too sure she wanted anything from him.

  “Go on. It won’t bite.” He lifted the bag.

  But you might.

  Kenton snatched the bag from him and peered inside.

  “See, I can be thoughtful.”

  “What you can be is a pain in the ass.” Kenton tossed the bag to her. “Some clothes.”

  Yes.

  That grin still lightened Ramirez’s otherwise scary visage. But really, that guy—he didn’t seem the grinning type. Dark. Dangerous. Deadly. Like a fire ready to rage.

>   “They might smell like smoke, but I figured it was better than nothing.” Again his eyes skated over her. “Then again…”

  “Do you want me to kick your ass?” Kenton asked quietly, and there was no hint of humor on his face or in his voice.

  Ramirez just shrugged. “You can try.”

  “Ease up, boys,” she ordered, shooting a hard stare at them both.

  “Yes, ma’am.” From Ramirez.

  The guy was obviously trying to piss off Kenton. His attack was also quite obviously working.

  Ramirez reached back and pulled a folded-up newspaper from the belt loop on his pants. “Jones ran the story.”

  “Shit.” Kenton grabbed the paper.

  The news. She hadn’t even thought that the story about the fire at her place would be on the news and in the papers. “I’ve got to call my brothers,” she told Kenton, spinning around and heading for the bathroom to change. If her brothers heard about the fire before she had a chance to talk to them—

  They would freak.

  The door thudded behind her.

  What? Again?

  She glanced back, seeing it shake. A real strong fist must be hitting that thing.

  Kenton and Ramirez turned together. “That’s not Monica,” Ramirez murmured.

  Lora caught a glimpse of his gun.

  Kenton was armed, too. She could see his weapon now, poking through the line of his coat.

  “Easy,” he told Ramirez, even as the other agent moved to flatten himself close to the hotel room door.

  “Uh, Kent…” She began because that door was shaking again.

  He risked a glance through the peephole, then turned to stare back at her. He’d dropped the newspaper. “Sweetheart, I really think you should have made that call sooner.” His fingers curled around the knob, and he yanked the door open.

  Ryan. Ben. Jake. They spilled inside. Faces red. Jaws set.

  “What the fuck is goin’ on?” Ryan snarled.

  Her lips parted. “How did—how did you even find me?” She dropped the bag onto the bed.

  Ryan stormed across the room. “Your house was on fire. Fire.” He grabbed her, hauled her close, and nearly squeezed the breath from her.

  Okay, he did squeeze the breath from her.

  “Christ, Lora… when I heard the news…” He shuddered against her.

  “Who the hell are you?” Ben demanded. She glanced up and over Ryan’s shoulder and found Ben eyeing Ramirez. “What are you two pricks doin’ in here with my sister?”

  “Ramirez,” came the reply. “I’m Special Agent Jon Ramirez.”

  “Big damn deal,” was Jake’s reply. Pretty much the way her brothers had felt about Kenton’s title. Or, well, anyone’s title. Authority had never impressed them, that was one of the reasons why Jake hadn’t lasted so long in the army.

  And why they all ran their own businesses. The boys liked to be in charge.

  She pushed against Ryan’s chest. “I’m okay.”

  “Bullshit.” His eyes, the same gold as her own, stared back at her. His lips were tight, white around the edges, pulling down the scars. “Max told me you were in that house. That guy lit the place with you in it.”

  She hadn’t wanted this. Hell, she’d thought about calling him last night, but it had been 3:00 A.M. “I didn’t get burned.” She wouldn’t let her eyes go to his scars. “I got out before the fire escalated. He didn’t hurt me.”

  Jake was there. He elbowed Ryan to the side and pulled her tight against him in a bear hug. “I saw the house on the news this morning. Freaking six o’clock news.” She felt his ragged breath against her neck. “Those scenes scared five years of my life away. Another fire, like before.”

  Lora shook her head. “No, not like before.” Long ago, an electrical fire had spread too quickly on a cold winter night. That had destroyed their home then.

  Fate.

  This time…

  An asshole.

  Ben grabbed her next, hugging her so hard her ribs ached. When he eased back, he kept a tight hold on her right hand.

  “That guy, Phoenix, he did this, didn’t he?” Ryan could always cut through the crap.

  She gave a grim nod. Ben still had her hand. “We think so.” Know so. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from Ben. He watched her like a hawk.

  So did Ryan. But that was the way he always watched her. He’d pushed her toward the window that night, pushed and screamed for her to jump.

  But she’d glanced back and seen the fire take him.

  She hadn’t been able to leave her big brother. She’d gone back and grabbed his hand. She’d dragged him through the flames.

  Then the roof had fallen in.

  She didn’t remember much after that. She’d woken up… in Frank Garrison’s arms.

  “You can move in with me,” Ryan offered. “Until this bastard is caught, you can stay at my place.”

  How much heat can you handle?

  No. She’d never bring fire to Ryan’s door. Not again. “Kent…”

  He closed the hotel room door. “I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.”

  Ryan swung on him. “Oh, and why the hell not?”

  Kenton crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her brothers. “Because as of this moment, Lora is under protective custody. She’ll be staying with me.”

  Well, damn. That wasn’t quite what she’d—Lora blinked. “Wanna run that one by me again?”

  His eyes glinted. “Until this bastard is caught, consider me your personal bodyguard, sweetheart. Day and night, I’m gonna be with you.” He closed in on her. Jake tensed. So did Ryan, but Kenton didn’t back down. “Phoenix wants you? Too bad. He’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

  She sucked in a hard breath and shoved away from her brother. “I’m not going to hide from this guy. If you think you’re gonna toss me into some hotel room—” Uh, yeah, that’s where she currently was—“think again. I’ve got a job. People who count on me. I’m not vanishing just because some freak has the idea that killing firefighters is fun.”

  “Killing firefighters?” Ryan repeated. “I knew people died in those fires, but I thought the only firefighter was Carter—” He broke off, glancing at Lora’s face.

  Ramirez cleared his throat. “We’re keeping a lot of information about Phoenix under wraps,” he said. “The fact that he seems to be luring firefighters in and trying to trap them in the flames as they rescue victims—”

  “Sick fuck,” Jake grated.

  “That information wasn’t exactly fit for the morning news.”

  Kenton brushed around Ben and took her hand. His fingers rubbed over the back of her knuckles. “I need you to work this case.”

  The tenseness in her shoulders eased a bit. Good, then he wasn’t—

  “But I need you alive more. I’m not going to let him get to you.”

  She licked her lips. She hurried forward and scooped up the bag of clothes. “I’m not defenseless.” She didn’t need to sit around and wait for someone to save her. She did the saving, that was part of her job. She was strong, physically, emotionally. She’d had to be. “I’m not some weak target. If he wants to take me on, I can be ready for him.”

  “No.” Flat. “You won’t be. If he comes at you—comes at you to kill, not to just screw with your head—you’ll be as dead as Carter.”

  Lora took that hit, right in the heart, with only a ragged hitch of her breath.

  Carefully, taking her time, she pulled her hand away from his. “Let’s be clear.” Her voice didn’t shake and it didn’t whisper, though right then, she was pretty surprised by both facts. “I don’t want you throwing Carter up to me ever again.”

  “Lora…”

  “You think I can’t handle myself?”

  Ben eased back.

  Kenton’s eyes widened.

  “I got myself out of that house. Just like I got Wade out. Just like I’ve gotten hundreds of others out.”

  “I didn’t say you—” />
  “I work out every day. I know how to use a gun. I know how to use a knife—”

  “She’s a damn fine shot. I taught her… thought it was a good—” Ben broke off. “Never mind.”

  “I’m not some poor damsel in distress who needs to sit on her hands while the world turns to shit around her.”

  “Never been the sitting-on-shit kind,” Ryan drawled.

  “I get it, though,” she said, storming on, “you’re the special—”

  “Big damn deal,” Jake interrupted.

  “—agent so you call the shots. Fine. Call them.”

  “I—”

  Lora plowed right on, her vision reddening. “If you think that putting me into some safe house is going to stop him, you’re dead wrong. Locking me up will just make me better bait.” She whirled away from him.

  “Lora…” His fingers skimmed her shoulders.

  She kept going, and when she got into the bathroom, she slammed the door behind her hard enough to rattle the frame.

  “I’m afraid that the information delivered to the press last night was… premature.” Kenton’s voice came smoothly.

  Lora watched, her body tight, as the camera lens zoomed in on Kenton. He’d told her he that had to come to the Channel Five news station, to “smooth over some shit.” She hadn’t known quite what he meant until…

  “Did a witness see Phoenix?” Elle Shaw asked, her face tight with a reporter’s patent concern and intensity.

  Kenton smiled back at her. “We have multiple leads that we are following on this case. But, at this juncture, the SSD will not disclose the specifics of any witness testimony that we may or may not have.”

  Lora frowned and glanced over at Ramirez. “What’s going on?” She had the feeling she’d missed something important and that feeling sucked.

  “Last night, Captain Lawrence got a little too chatty with some reporters who’d been staking out the police station.” Ramirez sighed. “The guy told ’em we had a witness who could ID the killer.”

  Her heart lurched. “Is that true?”

  “No. The description we got is for a stick figure.”

  “Uh—what?”

  “He’s white, he’s tall, and he wears a baseball cap.” His arms crossed over his chest as his gaze scanned the Channel Five station. “In short, he could be just about any guy you passed on the street.”