by Debra Cowan
Walker McClain turned to her. “Can I get you something to drink? He’ll be right out.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine.” If Collier was in such an all-fired hurry to show her what he’d found, where was he? “This house is great.”
“He’s remodeling the whole thing. We put down a new floor in the entryway this afternoon. That’s why I couldn’t let you in the front door. Would you like to see it?”
“Sure.”
They walked back to the small dining room and crossed to the arched opening in the opposite wall. The entryway’s dark red brick was laid in a meticulous herringbone pattern. “Wow. He did this himself?”
Walker’s eyes twinkled. “Well, he helped me do it.”
“Hardly,” Collier said dryly behind them. “You don’t know herringbone from a chicken bone.”
“Whoever did it, it’s beautiful.” She turned, and her words nearly slid back down her throat.
Sweet Saint Christopher. With his bare, muscular chest and low-slung jeans, Collier looked like Mr. July on the city’s firefighter calendar sold to raise money for the new community center. He was Mr. July, she realized with a start. Man, oh, man.
There was something to be said for all the hose dragging and lifting and chopping that firefighters did.
“Sorry to have made you wait, Detective.” His gaze did a slow sweep of her body as he rubbed a towel over his dark, wet head.
“No problem.” He wasn’t wearing socks or shoes, and something about his bare feet made her toes curl. “Your brother kept me entertained.”
Light from an overhead fixture slid across his golden chest. His shoulders and biceps were large, the muscles cut with definition. She’d felt that massive chest before, but she had never seen it. It probably would’ve been better if she hadn’t.
She cleared her throat. “You had something you wanted to show me?”
His brother arched a brow. “Like your etchings? I thought you had better lines.”
Kiley laughed, but a flush warmed her entire body.
Collier grinned good-naturedly. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, bro?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Collier swiped the towel across his chest then draped it over one shoulder. Muscles across his belly flexed with the movement, and the same unwelcome anticipation she’d felt during their dance rose up inside her.
She seriously had to stop looking at him. “Your house is great.”
“Thanks.”
She nodded. He really needed to put on a shirt. Was that a scar just below his navel, peeking over the waistband of his jeans?
From the corner of her eye, she caught a smile on Walker’s face and glanced over.
He slapped Collier on the shoulder. “I’m outta here. Looks like you two have business. Call me when you’re ready to do the hallway floor.” He turned to Kiley, amusement and open curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “Detective, it was nice to meet you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Maybe so,” she murmured. Doubtful, she thought.
He stepped over to his brother and said in a low voice, “Why can’t you ever leave any for the rest of us?”
“We’re working together,” Collier muttered. “That’s it.”
Oh, yes, Kiley thought. That was so it.
Walker disappeared around the corner with a tuneless whistle. Collier led the way back to the living room. She followed, hearing the garage door close, signaling the departure of his brother.
“Sorry I had to ask you to come here. I’m expecting a delivery from the home store. This’ll be the third time they’ve tried to get my order straight, and I want to make sure it’s right.”
“No problem.”
“You got here fast.”
“Your message sounded important.” She dragged her gaze away from the flex of sinew and muscle, her thoughts going to his disgustingly active and very well-known dating life. Which had no bearing on this case at all. “I’m ready any time you are.”
“Nice to know, Detective.” His voice lowered suggestively.
She arched a brow. “How long before you’re ready, McClain?”
“Let me grab a shirt.”
Please. “Okay.”
The back view had to be as good as the front so she refused to watch him leave the room. He returned wearing a red T-shirt stamped with PFD in faded white letters. The sleeves snugged around hard, sculpted biceps, and she admitted to a little disappointment that his chest was covered.
He glanced at his watch. “I thought Terra would have called me back by now.”
“I don’t mind waiting until she arrives to watch the video.”
“She’s probably on her way. Can I take your coat?”
She shrugged out of it and watched as he hung it in a small closet behind them.
He moved past her to the recliner closest to the sofa and curled his big hands over the back of the chair.
“I—” she started.
“Terra,” he said at the same time. He gave her a crooked smile. “You first.”
“I tried to interview Sherry Vail yesterday, but she’s still away on a business trip.” The former Presley firefighter had been dismissed in disgrace and told she would never work as a firefighter again. After the murder of victim number two, Rex Huffman, Terra and Kiley had learned about a sexual harassment complaint Vail had filed against him, so they’d talked to her back in November.
“When she was fired five months ago, she took a job with a company that sells parts and accessories for firefighting equipment. I think she has to go out of town quite a bit.”
Kiley tucked her hair behind her ear. “I recall that Lazano was one of those called to testify against her at her disciplinary hearing.”
“Yes, just like the other three victims.”
The blonde had ample motive to hate the firefighters from her old station house. Kiley knew the woman’s termination had been justified. Vail had been lazy, frequently absent, undependable at a fire and at different times had filed sexual harassment complaints against two male firefighters who pissed her off.
Collier ran a hand across his nape. “I agree she should still be on our list.”
“I’ll keep trying until I connect with her.” Kiley stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “What were you about to say before I started?”
“Terra told me that the two of you interviewed the coffee warehouse manager and all the employees. The manager said there was a working alarm system.”
“Yes.” Kiley pushed up the sleeves of her dark green sweater, fighting the urge to pace. She could smell the fresh soapy warmth of his skin and couldn’t stop wondering about the line of puckered flesh that disappeared beneath his waistband. She needed to focus. “Their system is computerized, so we were able to get an activity printout from the security company. The alarm was activated last night at closing, just after eleven o’clock, then bypassed at eleven-thirty. They have a backup battery for situations like that, but it was disabled, too.”
“So, we’re talking about someone who knows the warehouse schedule and also how to deal with security systems.”
“Right. And maybe someone who knows electricity in general. Not just some cat burglar who can jimmy open a door.”
“Were any prints lifted from the alarm box?”
“No, no prints anywhere.”
“You’re not still blaming that on the firefighters?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I checked into the warehouse across the street, the one where you thought the shot came from. It’s for a lightbulb manufacturer. I looked around on the roof and had some uniforms search around the building, but we didn’t find anything.”
Collier nodded.
“We’re running the names of the victims who died during the rescue calls alongside the names of employees of the warehouse to see if we can find any connection.” She paused. “Changing the subject, I heard from some of the firefighters that Lazano used to be involved with
our third victim, Lisa Embry.”
“Yeah. That was a while back.”
“The man sure got around. How long ago were they together?”
Collier thought for a minute. “Probably close to five years ago. She was married for four years, and her affair with Lazano ended before she even met her husband. Ex-husband,” he amended. “Lisa and Alan divorced at the end of last summer.”
“I just heard from more than one source that Alan Embry is a possessive, jealous man and harassed Lisa mercilessly until some of you guys paid him a visit.”
“That’s true.” Collier folded his arms over his chest. “Our whole shift threatened to hurt him if he didn’t back off. I wasn’t in on it, but I would’ve been if I hadn’t been at the training center. Embry was really scaring Lisa, actually stalking her. He thought she had hooked up again with Lazano and he made her life miserable. Phone hang ups at all hours of the night, pictures of her undressing slid under her door or stuck in her mailbox. Threats. One time he flattened all her tires, and she couldn’t get to school to pick up her sick kid.”
“So it’s not a stretch to imagine this guy could’ve killed her in her garage and killed Lazano tonight.”
“No, and he was plenty hot about the guys paying him a visit. That could be motive for Miller’s and Huffman’s murders.”
Kiley nodded. “In our interviews with him right after Lisa’s murder, Alan said he had never owned a gun and didn’t know how to shoot.”
“No one’s disputed that so far.” Collier shoved a hand through his hair. “So I’d say we still consider that he hired the murderer.”
“I agree. Since he works for the city as an electrician, he’d certainly have the know-how to screw with a security system. He could get into the building, start a fire and let the sniper do the rest.”
“Yeah, talking to him is definitely on our to-do list.”
“I tried to see him yesterday, but he wasn’t at home or work.” Kiley’s next step was talking to McClain’s ex-fiancée, but she didn’t want him around for that, since his name would likely come up.
She was too aware of the fresh-showered scent of him, the underlying tension between them that went back to that dance at the Christmas party. “I’m anxious to see what you found on the video. Maybe we can watch it now, then again when Terra gets here?”
“All right.” His quick agreement was the first sign she’d had that he might be just as antsy as she was. “You’ve seen the videos of the other fire murder scenes, right?”
“Yes.” Kiley took a seat on the end of the sofa. Across from her, a burning log crackled in the fireplace, and warmth from the flames reached across the floor. The television sat on the adjacent wall, facing the end of the room where Collier stood. “I know y’all video most of your fires.”
He nodded. “We use them to train others in investigation and also to keep the chain of evidence in our control. That way it can’t be tampered with.”
He eased down into the chair closest to her, then picked up the remote and turned on the television and VCR.
The picture flickered to life, and they watched grayish-brown smoke plume out of the side windows of the coffee warehouse. The camera picked up the occasional orange flame shooting through the smoky wall. A firefighter, unrecognizable because of his hood and helmet, rushed forward with the nozzle.
“That’s Lazano,” Collier said quietly.
A second firefighter appeared behind him in the frame. “You?”
“Yeah.” Maybe a second later the sharp crack of a gunshot rang out. Lazano went down.
Collier hit the ground and vanished out of the frame. The shouted “Mayday! Firefighter down!” was muffled but audible. A pair of firefighters—the Rapid Intervention Team—rushed into the picture, bending low then straightening to drag Lazano away from the flames. Another two-man team rushed toward the building with a hose gushing water. There were no more pictures of Collier and the victim.
For several minutes the camera stayed focused on the fire, catching the sounds of thundering water, yelling voices, sirens in the distance. Flames crackled and hissed in the background. The firefighters moved in smooth synchronization. After the blaze was out, the camera panned the perimeter of the building, down the west side of the driveway to the street and across three fire engines.
Kiley wondered what Collier was thinking. Despite what had happened between the two men, watching a brother firefighter die in front of him had to be hard.
He paused the tape. “Right there.”
She leaned forward, studying the frame. “Ladder truck, hoses, hydrant, fireman.”
“Since he isn’t wearing a hood or a helmet, I can see his face. That guy isn’t a firefighter. At least not from here.”
“What?” Kiley dragged her hair over her shoulder with one hand as she scrutinized the screen.
“I know almost every firefighter in Presley, and I’ve never seen this guy.”
“Really?” She got that little head rush she always did when she got a good lead.
“I went back over the tapes from the three previous fire scenes and I didn’t see him in any of them. There’s an unidentified male in the first tape, but Terra already tried to have that enhanced. The tech couldn’t get a clear shot of the person.”
“But we have a clear shot of this guy.” Kiley rose, excited. “This is the first lead we’ve had on this murder, McClain. Good job.”
“All I did was look at the video,” he said wryly, stopping the tape.
“But you picked up on the man. I wouldn’t have. That’s why it’s such a good idea to have guns and hoses working these cases together.”
“Guns and hoses? You’re a piece of work, Russell.” He chuckled at her slang for cops and firefighters as he stood and started into the kitchen. “I’m going to call Terra again. You want something to drink?”
“Sure.” She followed him. “We need to get a photograph made from the video. The police lab can do it if you don’t have the equipment.”
“That’s where I’d take it, too.” Grabbing a cordless phone from its spot on the wall, he punched in a number and waited for several seconds, then hung up. “Still no answer on her cell. I’ll try her house.”
There was no answer there, either.
“Maybe she and Jack are out to dinner.” Kiley traced his steps to the refrigerator, leaning a hip against the counter that butted up to it. “We can show the picture to the other firefighters and anyone else at the scene.”
He nodded, opened the fridge, bent down to grab a cola and handed it to her.
She leaned forward, taking the chilled can. “We’ll need to check mug shots, too. And maybe the enlarged picture will show if the guy has a tattoo or any other distinguishing marks. If he does, we can have Crime Analysis check the field interview cards for any matching descriptions.”
“I’ll touch base with all the station houses and see if anyone has reported any stolen gear.” Collier straightened and stepped away from the fridge at the same time she popped the top on her soda can. His elbow banged her forearm, jostling her drink.
They both grabbed for the can, their combined grips crushing the tin and spewing soda all over her front and down her arm.
Collier quickly reached behind her and tossed her a towel. “Sorry.”
“No problem. I was in the way.” She blotted the front of her sweater then the sleeve and her hand. Facing the sink, she set down the towel and her drink, then turned on the faucet and put her sticky hands under the water.
“You missed some.”
“Where—” She broke off, jolted by the sudden feel of his big hand settling hotly on her hip. He reached toward her with the towel. With one knuckle, he angled her head and dabbed at the underside of her jaw.
She froze. They hadn’t been this close since the FOP Christmas party. She could feel the heat of his body and his subtle woodsy scent drift into her lungs. His lean thigh brushed hers, but it was the hand on her hip that shocked all her nerve endings. His fi
ngers splayed low on her back, right where her hip curved into her bottom. He’d held her the same way while they danced. The memory was so vivid she could almost feel the provocative friction of his body moving against hers.
“Got it.” His voice curled around her with just an edge of seduction.
The low, sexy drawl was the same she’d heard that night, too. And her body did that same melt-in-the-center thing. The realization forced some energy through her dazed limbs. She turned off the faucet and plucked the towel out of his hand, drying her hands as she walked away. “Thanks.”
No way was she going all soft around him. She didn’t care how good he sounded. Or looked. Or felt.
Just then the phone rang. Collier crossed to the wall and picked it up. His side of the conversation consisted of “oh” and “yeah” and “okay.” She tried to read his face and determine if he was talking about the case.
In a few moments he hung up, his features tight and grim. “That was Jack Spencer, Terra’s husband. She’s in the hospital.”
Apprehension started a low drumbeat inside her. “Don’t tell me.”
“She’s having her baby.”
“Now?” Kiley squeaked.
“Now.”
She saw the realization in his eyes the same time it hit her. Now only the two of them would be working this investigation.
“Oh, great,” they said in unison.
Chapter 3
On Monday afternoon Collier left the fire investigator’s office early to attend Dan Lazano’s wake. Not just out of obligation to a fellow firefighter, but also because he had come darn close to being in that casket himself.
Lazano’s parents hosted the gathering at their modest brick home in northwest Oklahoma City. Collier stepped through the front door and scanned the people overflowing from the spacious living room into the dining room. He managed to make his way through the throng of firefighters, paramedics and city officials to Tony and Simone Lazano and offer his condolences on the loss of their son.
Collier might have resented Dan for what he and Gwen had done, but he hadn’t hated the guy. Not anymore, despite what Kiley Russell thought.