"I'm sorry, Kate. I can't help you. My boss instructed me not to take his calls. They had some altercation last year, and until we have more than Mr. Scott's gut instinct, we're not talking to him."
"Emma, I've seen the case files. And I've looked at the pattern of fires. If Devin is right, then more fires are coming. I know you don't want that."
"I told you; I can't talk to him."
"What about me? If you wanted to have lunch with me, and we happened to run into Devin, would that be your fault?"
Emma stared back at her and then let out a breath. "You've always been able to find the angle, Kate."
"Is that a yes to lunch? I know you, Emma. You follow your gut, and so do I. So does Devin."
"We have limited resources, Kate. And arson is one of the most unsolvable crimes there is. We have to go with evidence."
"But this wasn't just arson; it was murder."
"And it was investigated," Emma said. "Not just by us but also by the FBI. They took over the case. You should be talking to your superiors."
"I have all the information that the FBI has on the case, and I'm going through Devin's files as well, but it appears to me that the case was closed a little too quickly. I think you should hear Devin out. You should talk to him about the most recent school fire, because if the arsonist is getting back into business, you're going to want to know."
Emma thought about her words. "If I talk to Devin, it has to be off the record."
"It will be. Where shall we meet?"
"Not anywhere near here."
"How about the Wild Garden on Union Street in the Marina?" she suggested.
"That sounds fine. None of the other investigators in this office would be caught dead in a vegetarian restaurant."
"Great. Is noon okay?"
"Let's make it one."
"Done." She felt a wave of relief that Emma had agreed to talk to Devin. If she'd had to go back and say she couldn't even convince her cousin to help, she'd feel like a complete failure and as green and unseasoned as Devin thought she was. "Thanks, Em. I owe you one."
"Don't expect too much, Kate. I really don't think your guy is operating on anything more than guilt and grief."
"Hear him out. Then decide." As she got to her feet, she added, "And if you don't mind, I'd prefer if you didn't tell anyone in the family you saw me today."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"I'm not supposed to be getting into town until next Wednesday, and I need to keep the family out of my business until then."
"Good luck. A lot of people in this town know you or one of our relatives. I'm not sure you can get out of this building without running into someone you know."
"I'm going to give it a shot. See you in a couple of hours."
"I'll be there, and just so you know, Kate, you're buying."
"Of course." She opened the door, then looked back at her cousin. "It's going to happen for you, Em—having a baby. I know it. And when it does, you'll make an amazing mother."
"Thanks, Kate. I really hope you're right."
"I usually am. No one ever seems to realize that, but it's true."
Emma laughed. "I often feel the same way."
Five
"We have lunch with Emma," Kate said, as she walked into Devin's office thirty minutes later. "You can say thank-you." She sat down in the chair in front of his desk with a satisfied, smug smile. "It was not easy to get her to say yes. Apparently, you're on everyone's blacklist, but I convinced her you were worth a meet. I can be very persuasive."
"I wouldn't think your cousin would be the toughest target, but okay," he said dryly. He actually was a little impressed, but he wasn't going to tell her that, if only for the fun of seeing the angry, irritated blue fire fill her eyes. Kate definitely wore her emotions on her face. If she wanted to be a good agent, she'd have to learn how to put on a better mask.
"Emma might be my cousin, but she's putting her job on the line for this. She's been ordered not to talk to you. She said you got into an altercation with her boss."
He shrugged. "It was a discussion; that's all."
"I have a feeling he doesn't remember it that way. Anyway, lunch is at one o'clock at the Wild Garden down the street."
He groaned. "Vegetarian? Is she one of those?"
"Actually, no, Emma is not a vegetarian, but it's a good restaurant. It has excellent reviews, and I suspect you could use a few vegetables in your diet." She picked up the empty bag of chips on the top of his desk. "Breakfast of champions?"
He took the bag out of her hand and tossed it in the trash. "I've been working. I didn't have time to make breakfast."
"What have you been working on? PI stuff or the fires?"
"Both. I spoke to Brenda earlier."
"Did she have it out with her husband?"
"She did but not until she spoke to her lawyer. Because we gave her a heads-up, she was able to prevent Russell from selling his stake in the company to Lily Holbright. After she informed him of that fact, she threw him out of the house, and said she was filing for divorce."
Kate nodded approvingly. "Good. I'm glad she stayed strong. So are you done with that case now?"
"I am."
"What about other cases?"
"I've been working for a couple of law firms. They keep me busy, but I also have the ability to turn down jobs, which I did as soon as I heard about the fire at St. Bernadette's."
"Emma said you're going to need more than gut instinct to convince anyone the serial arsonist is back. They've had other school fires that were set by students."
"St. Bernadette's fits the pattern. Let's go in the back and look at the map again." He got to his feet. If he was going to convince Emma Callaway to help him, he needed to convince Kate first.
He led the way down the hall to the wall map. "The green thumbtacks are school fires started at Catholic schools in the past five years. There have been five, not counting St. Bernadette's." He pointed out the tacks. "They form three-quarters of a circle."
"That's true," she murmured, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she studied the map.
"The blue thumbtacks represent the community or recreation center fires. There have been five of those as well. All of the fires took place within three miles of a school fire—basically within the same community. They form a V in the middle of the almost complete circle."
"I can see that. And the historical structures go in a straight line or relatively straight. Line to the bottom of the V. Nothing is exact, though."
"But close enough that you can see the pattern." He pointed to the one yellow thumbtack. "That's St. Bernadette's. Do you see where it falls? Do you see how it's following the arc of the circle?"
"I do," she said, tilting her head to the right as if to get a different angle. "Devin."
"Yes?" he asked, seeing a light in her eyes as she turned her gaze on him.
"You know what this is, right?"
"I have an idea. What do you think it is?" he asked.
"I think the arsonist is making a huge peace sign."
As her gaze met his, he felt in sync with someone for the first time in a very long time. "So do I."
"I didn't see anything about this pattern in the files Hal gave me." She paused, frowning. "There was a map, but it didn't look exactly like this." She turned back to the wall. "What's different about yours?"
"There were a few other fires on the Bureau's map. Sam and I were looking at some additional fires that I now don't believe were part of the pattern. They had similar characteristics, which led us to put them on the list. But during the past year, I've been able to eliminate a couple of them. So this map looks different than the one in the old files."
"Have you shown it to anyone but me?"
He sighed. "I sent a picture to Hal, but he wasn't convinced."
"What about the local fire department?"
"They don't agree that all of these fires are part of a pattern. There are at least three or four they would
dispute."
She sent him a speculative look. "There was a fire about eight months ago that you thought was the work of the arsonist, right?"
He really hated to admit that he'd been wrong, but there was no way around it. "Yes, but a suspect was caught and confessed to the arson. His story was irrefutable." He paused and placed his finger on the map where there was a small X. "That fire was here. It didn't quite fit the pattern, but it was close enough to make me concerned."
"So you were wrong, and now no one will listen to you," she said bluntly.
"That about sums it up. But just because I was wrong then doesn't mean I'm wrong now."
"It doesn't mean you're right, either." She looked back at the map. "This pattern means something, but what?"
"I've been asking myself that question for a long time. What does the peace sign mean to the arsonist?"
"Maybe he's looking for peace."
"It's as good an answer as any. The most important part of this pattern is not necessarily answering the question of why but rather where. I haven't had a chance to show anyone in the fire department how St. Bernadette's fits into the pattern."
"We should show Emma." She grabbed her phone and took several photos of the map.
"I believe the next fire has to be within this area." He moved his finger around the uncompleted portion of the circle.
"How many miles does that cover?"
"About five miles. But San Francisco is a dense city with blocks of buildings that share common walls."
"So there are only about a thousand targets," she said with a sigh.
"For houses, yes; for community centers, no." He moved over to his computer that was open on the kitchen table. "I've made a list of potential targets."
She walked up next to him to peer over his shoulder. For a moment, he was distracted by her scent, by her closeness. In fact, his body had an instantly appreciative reaction to her hips as they came into contact with his.
"It looks like you've expanded beyond community centers," she said.
"What?" he asked, his brain taking a second to refocus on the computer screen.
"What is Delores Hall?"
"That's a senior citizen center," he said, clearing his throat and moving far enough away from her that they weren't touching. "Raymond Street Rec is an after-school program at Raymond Park. It's mostly outdoor activities, but there is a small one-room building on the property where the smaller kids do art projects. Payton Community Center runs a complete program of activities for toddlers to seniors. Bayside Neighborhood Club is a teen program run out of a Victorian house."
"That sounds like it fits two criteria—community center and possibly a historic building."
"It's not on the register, but that could be just because no one tried to put it on there," he said.
She turned her head, giving him a smile. "I should have figured you already checked."
"I did. I like it as a possible target, though. I didn't put these in order but that's at the top of my list." He turned his attention back to the screen. "Bric-A-Brac offers art classes for kids. It's run out of a studio in the back of the owner's house." He moved on to the next one. "Keystone is another senior center. It's part of an assisted living program at Keystone Residences. It's a little out of the target range, but close enough to be included. Basically, I put anything on the list that had an outreach to the community—some type of classes for kids, seniors, at-risk teens, whatever."
"Oh, my God," Kate said suddenly, her body stiffening.
"What?"
"Ashbury Studios? Why would you put a music studio on the list?"
"They offer music and dance classes for kids after school. It's a free program for at-risk teens. That's what I just said. I included any business that reached out to the community and was within a five-mile radius of St. Bernadette's." He paused, feeling the tension rolling off her body. "What's wrong?"
"My cousin Sean owns the music studio, and his wife Jessica runs the dance program." She gave him a concerned look. "If they're a target, I need to warn them."
"Then you should warn them," he said evenly. It was actually refreshing to have Kate take his assessment at face value and to give his theory some respect. "But I wouldn't say that studio is at the top of the list."
"It doesn't matter. It's on the list. The least I can do is tell them to be extra vigilant on doors and windows, since the arsonist often seems to have an easy entry point. They probably have some kind of security system. They need to make sure that's working properly. Maybe I'll go by there after lunch."
He nodded. "Is your cousin Sean related to Emma?"
"Yes. He's her younger brother by a year or two."
"Then maybe we should show her this list."
Kate met his gaze. "Print it out. But don't be surprised if she questions whether the studio made the list because you wanted to get her attention."
"Since I didn't know there was a connection until thirty seconds ago, hopefully you can set her straight." He hit Print on his computer.
"Have you spoken to any of the other targets?" she asked.
"No. I have to be careful in my approach."
She raised an eyebrow. "You? Careful? Those two words don't seem to go together, especially in this situation."
He tipped his head. "They didn't always go together, but the police paid me a visit after I tried to warn the principal of a school that they might be a target. They told me to stop inciting fear and panic and said that I could be charged for harassment if I didn't cease and desist."
"You pissed someone off."
"More than one person I'm sure."
"Was St. Bernadette's on your target list for schools?" she asked curiously.
He leaned over, tapped a few keys and opened a new file on his computer. "Take a look for yourself."
"It's there," she said. "But you never went there?"
"No. Besides the fact that I didn't feel like getting thrown into jail for a few hours, I've found that warning people is usually a waste of breath, time and energy. What I need to do is figure out the target, stake it out, and catch the arsonist."
"Well, that sounds simple," she said with an edge of sarcasm. "I'm surprised you haven't done it already."
"I had to wait for the arsonist to show up again. Obviously, he went underground after Sam's death. But he wasn't going to stay buried forever. The thrill, the release, the excitement—whatever emotion he needs to fill by setting a fire is always simmering beneath the surface." He took a breath and let it out. "I was wrong eight months ago, but my gut tells me I'm right this time. That's why I went out on a limb and contacted Hal. I knew he would probably laugh and hang up on me, but I had to take the chance. Not for me—for Sam. This has never been about me; it's always been about her."
Kate's blue gaze clung to his, and she looked at him in such a way that he felt like she could see right into his soul. For a split second he wanted to turn away; he'd always had a strong guard in place, but somehow Kate was getting past it.
"I believe you," she said slowly.
His heart flipped over in his chest. "That I'm not doing this out of ego? A desire to prove I'm the smartest; I'm the best?"
"Yes. Although, I don't doubt your ego is involved, because you are a man, after all. But mostly I believe that you're right about these fires, about the arsonist, about more blazes coming and the possibility of more people getting hurt. So let's stop him."
She might be green as grass, but he liked her fire, her determination, and the fact that she'd been so quickly able to understand what so many other people had not. Maybe that was because she was naïve, optimistic, idealistic, but whatever it was, he'd take it. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him without disbelief, anger or disgust.
"Okay," he said with a nod.
"That's okay, partner." She emphasized the word partner with a smile. "And don't tell me I'm still on probation, because you need me."
He did need her; he hadn't realized how much unt
il this second. Unfortunately, his need had to do with a little more than just work. Standing this close to her, he had to fight the almost irresistible impulse to lean over and kiss her smart mouth.
Luckily for him, Kate's phone buzzed, and she walked around the table to pull it out of her bag.
"It's a text from Emma. She got to the restaurant a little early. I'll tell her we're on our way."
He nodded, happy to get out of the apartment and away from at least a few bad ideas.
* * *
As they walked down Union Street in San Francisco's Marina District Thursday afternoon, Kate felt on edge—not a dangerous kind of on edge, but a tingly kind of on edge. The way Devin had looked at her in his apartment had gotten her pulse pounding. She'd thought for a second there he was going to kiss her, an idea that seemed both ridiculous and appealing at the same time.
They were coworkers, colleagues, partners, and that was it. They were not friends and definitely not kissing friends.
But she couldn't deny there was an attraction.
She'd always been drawn to bad boys, especially those with sharp minds, and passionate drive. Unfortunately, those bad boys usually ended up to be really bad boyfriends. They might have had passion for her, but love, respect, tenderness…they'd always come up short in those areas. While a fling would no doubt be really enjoyable, she was done flinging…she was a serious FBI agent now. She had to focus on her career and prove how good she was, because just saying it wasn't enough to make it true.
While Agent Roman probably didn't care all that much about her performance on this case, because he didn't believe there was a case, he would care if she screwed up, if she missed something, if she didn't perform to the highest level of her ability. And she would care even more. Not just because it was a case, but because it was a case that involved the death of an agent.
She understood how important it was to Devin to get justice for his partner, because she would feel exactly the same way. She might not have gone about it in the same manner, but she would have wanted to keep fighting.
At least…she thought she would have. She did wonder if she would have been able to stand as strong as Devin had in the face of so many doubters. Would all those disbelievers have shaken her faith in herself, in her instincts?
Tender Is The Night (Callaways Book 10) Page 5