Deadly Heat
Page 15
“A few weeks back. Chief can tell you.” The scratch on her cheek was better today. He hadn’t even thought about any bruises or scratches last night.
Though he was pretty sure she’d given him a few.
“So this is the deal? You’re pressing us all, getting us to spill station gossip so you can see which suspect shakes loose?” Lora’s brows climbed. “And here I was thinking an interrogation from the SSD would be trickier.”
“Not everyone gets the same questions,” Monica murmured. “And trust me, sometimes the questions get much harder.”
And Kenton was struck by the two women. Complete opposites, not just physically.
Monica—pretty and poised, with dark hair, an almost perfect black. Calm, controlled, with icy blue eyes.
Lora—sexy but tense, with short, thick blond hair, wild. With those golden eyes that could scorch a man if he wasn’t careful.
Kenton was trying really hard to be careful.
Monica offered Lora a faint smile as she asked, “How long have you known Frank Garrison?”
Lora’s whole body tensed. “Almost twenty years. And believe me, you’re way off base with him. Garrison is not the one you—”
“He was almost pushed into early retirement earlier this year, wasn’t he?” Kenton asked.
Lora slanted those golden eyes his way. “There were cutbacks, but luckily the brass realized that we couldn’t afford to lose someone like him.”
“I bet Garrison didn’t like the idea that he’d be pushed out of his station,” Monica murmured.
“No.” Clipped. “He didn’t like it all.” One brow lifted. “And I’m sure he told you just that very fact when you interviewed him. Garrison doesn’t believe in bullshitting.”
Lora’s gaze centered on Monica. “I think I was wrong,” she told Monica, studying the other woman carefully. “I think you know just how to lead your suspects, how to press buttons, and how to get right under the skin.”
Monica stared right back at her. “Tell me, Lora, why did you become a firefighter?”
Lora’s hands flew across the table, and she snatched the file away from the agent in a blink. “Isn’t that in here? Isn’t everything in here?”
Yeah, it was.
Lora’s voice stayed low and hot as she fired back, “Isn’t this little talk more about you watching us, observing, seeing our reactions up close and personal so you can decide who might be the weak link here? Who just might be verging on the edge of crazy?”
Monica didn’t make a grab for the file but just watched Lora. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Tell me, have you danced with crazy lately?”
Kenton tensed. What the—
Lora laughed and tossed the file onto the tabletop. “Every single night. That’s what happens when you pull someone you love from the fire, and you watch them die. When you can’t do a thing but watch.”
Monica’s face went blank.
Lora inched in closer. “What about you, Special Agent Davenport? Have you ‘danced’ real close with crazy?” she whispered. “ ’Cause something tells me that you’ve done it more than me.”
Holy shit—Monica flinched.
Lora shoved away from the table. “I’m done here.”
And he watched the fine sway of her ass as Lora stormed out.
Silence. Then Monica turned to stare at him. “Better be careful with her,” she said with a bit of admiration. “That’s a lot of fury there.”
“You know she’s torn up about Carter.” Kenton kept his voice even with an effort. It had been six months, but the rage still burned bright for Lora.
He might be getting her body, but it looked as if Lora’s heart belonged to a dead man.
Monica shook her head. “I don’t think she was talking about Carter.” She lifted the file. “The SSD’s report came in on Lora and all the firefighters at this station.” Monica gave a little shrug. “The killer is targeting them for a reason, you know. This city, these firefighters, this station… there’s a link, somewhere.”
He knew it. The perp had a target zone for his kills—a zone that wrapped all the fires up and had them locked to station eleven on Bringham Boulevard.
Kenton stared at the file. He’d read a preliminary file on Lora before, but not the newest data from the SSD. His fingers flexed, and he remembered touching smooth skin. Soft, like satin.
Smooth skin, then—
The rough line of scars that ripped across the base of her spine.
Blue eyes stared back at him. “What do you know?” Monica asked.
He exhaled on a long sigh. “She was hurt. A long time ago, probably in a fire.” This hadn’t been in the first report, but he’d learned that secret in the darkness.
“Yes, she was thirteen.”
So young. Hard to imagine Lora young like that.
Before the fire.
“The flames spread at her house, too fast. She was hurt. Her brother—the fire caught him, burned over 60 percent of his body. The doctors didn’t think he’d make it, and her dad, well, he only lived a few seconds after getting pulled out of the house. He died right in front of her.”
And all you can do is watch.
Sonofabitch.
He spun away and yanked open the door. “Lora!”
CHAPTER Eight
Lora, wait!” Kenton grabbed her hand and spun her around. “Lora, dammit, I-I’m sorry.”
Her brows shot up. “Sorry for being an ass?”
“Sorry you had to come in there.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Look, it sucks, okay? The situation is shit.”
Agreed.
His voice lowered. “But Lora, the evidence is pointing to a firefighter, and we have to follow that trail.”
She shook her head. “I don’t—”
“You know the guy has insider knowledge.”
Yes, dammit. Those fires had been too perfect.
“He uses different accelerants,” Kenton continued, “and the fires all have different points of origin.” He shook his head.“Most arsonists have a pet accelerant and they stick to a standard point of origin.” He paused. “That’s not the case with this guy, and the fact that he knows how to successfully use so many accelerants in so many different locations…”
Kenton didn’t have to finish. She knew where he was headed. A firefighter would have knowledge like that. Any firefighter could walk into a house and immediately find the weak spots—those places that would burn so well.
Just like the arsonist was doing.
She swallowed the denial that wanted to rise in her throat. Hell, he was right and that part hurt her the most.
“It’s not personal,” he told her. “We’re doing our jobs.”
And his job had brought Kenton to her station to interview her and her friends. To dig into their pasts. Lora blew out a hard breath. “You know, don’t you? You investigated us all, and you know about me.” He’d already felt her scars, he’d touched them last night, so there was no reason for her to be feeling so—
Exposed.
Vulnerable.
No reason, but she did. And those feelings had driven her right out of that conference room. Why couldn’t she be more like Davenport? Why couldn’t she have more control?
Rick and Wade rounded the corner and nearly slammed right into them. “Hell.” Kenton shoved a hand through his perfect hair. “Where can we talk, alone?”
The guy didn’t get it. There were always eyes and ears at this place. But she took his hand and elbowed past them as she led Kenton up the narrow stairs, then to the right. To the room that had been reserved for her and Amanda.
He slammed the door shut behind them.
“Fine, we’re alone—” She turned back toward him, aware that her voice was shaking just a little. All my secrets. “Now you can—”
He grabbed her and kissed her and drove his tongue deep into her mouth like he had some kind of right to her.
Her nails bit into his arms. Her ni**les tightened because, ah, damn, she might be pissed, but she still wanted him.
Last night was not enough. More like just an appetizer, and she was ready for the main course.
Kenton’s hands curled over her ass, and he pulled her up against his cock.
Full, thick and ready with lust, hunger, and need.
Not pity. Even though he had to know…
Her hands flattened over his muscled chest, and she shoved back. Her breath panted out, mixing with his.
“You know.” She didn’t make it a question because she was sure all the facts about her life were in that thin little manila file. All typed up, nice and neat, ready to see.
He didn’t let her go. His hands stayed locked on her ass, and that erection—it was all she could do not to arch against him. “I know about the fire when you were thirteen, if that’s what you’re asking about.”
Her chin lifted. “Let me go.” She couldn’t talk to him like this. Too close. His body too hot.
“This isn’t over.” It came out as a snarl. “We’re not.”
She blinked. “Uh, run that by me again?”
“You might be pissed, you might want to kick my ass out of the station, but that’s business. The case.”
The doorknob rattled. “Lora?” Amanda called. “You in there? The knob’s jammed—”
“Busy!” Kenton yelled.
Silence, and then they heard the quick thud of retreating footsteps.
Ah, great, now Amanda would think they were screwing, and Amanda had one big mouth.
Screwing at the station. Yeah, that was the gossip she wanted floating around her team.
Having sex with the agent on her own time, that was one thing. She’d take the ribbing from that, but at the station…
A dull throb began in her right temple.
“Maybe you wanted a screw to make you forget.”
His flat words had her chin lifting.
“Maybe you wanted to remind yourself that you are alive, even if he’s not.”
Okay, now he was getting damn personal. “Watch it, GQ.” She yanked away from him and paced in front of the window. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Really? I think I do. I think I’m learning a whole lot about you.”
She wouldn’t look at him. “I’ll keep working the case with you. You know I want to catch this bastard.” But the perp’s not here. Not at my station. Not on my team. She’d know.
“I want more than that.” The floor squeaked beneath him, and she knew he was stalking her.
She stopped moving. “I don’t have a lot to give right now.” True. He didn’t understand. Sex—that was all. Inside, she was too hollow.
I don’t want to hurt again. It was too easy to care, then it hurt too much when you lost the one you cared for.
He was right behind her now. She could feel him.
“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone.”
Her eyes stayed on the ground outside the window. Max was leaving, heading out, probably on a grocery run.
Kenton stood behind her, not touching her, but standing close, warm and strong. “When I was ten,” his voice rumbled, “a drunk driver hit me and my mom. We were driving home, on the way from soccer practice.”
She looked back at him. Had to. “I–I’m sorry.”
His eyes gazed at her, but she had a feeling the guy saw the past. “He hit the side of our car and slammed into her. For the longest time, I could hear the sound of that metal, crunching around us… and her crying. She cried a lot.” He swallowed. “Cried so much, because she didn’t die, not right away.”
Oh, God.
She whirled to face him. “Kent…”
“I couldn’t get to her. I was pinned in the back.” Cold and flat. She knew that voice. She’d used that voice before. “And that bastard—he ran and left us there.”
Lora could only shake her head.
“She kept telling me that everything was going to be all right. Not to worry. It’ll be all right.”
Lora’s brother had told her that, too. He’d been wrong.
“But I knew. I could smell her blood. See it on the broken windshield. I knew. And all I could do was sit there and wait for her to die.”
Lora’s eyes closed.
“By the time someone else came along that stretch of road, she wasn’t talking anymore.”
“Kenton…” Her eyes opened. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me—”
“I do.” His eyes glittered with fury and pain. “You’re not the only one who’s lost. You’re not the only one who sat there when death came, and you couldn’t do anything.”
She wanted to reach out and touch him. He was right there, so close, and—
He’s just like me.
Twisted by the past.
“What…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “What happened to that driver?”
“He went to prison. Vehicular manslaughter. Got five f**king years.”
Five years didn’t seem so long when balanced with a life.
“Six months after he got out, he hit a big rig, head-on. Bastard died at the scene.”
Was that justice? She wasn’t sure. These days, she didn’t have any idea what real justice was anymore.
“My dad never got over her death. Hell, for years it seemed like he could barely look at me. He shut himself off, all but crawled into the grave with her.”
Jesus. At least she hadn’t been alone after she lost her dad. With her brothers, she was never alone.
Though he was pretty sure she’d given him a few.
“So this is the deal? You’re pressing us all, getting us to spill station gossip so you can see which suspect shakes loose?” Lora’s brows climbed. “And here I was thinking an interrogation from the SSD would be trickier.”
“Not everyone gets the same questions,” Monica murmured. “And trust me, sometimes the questions get much harder.”
And Kenton was struck by the two women. Complete opposites, not just physically.
Monica—pretty and poised, with dark hair, an almost perfect black. Calm, controlled, with icy blue eyes.
Lora—sexy but tense, with short, thick blond hair, wild. With those golden eyes that could scorch a man if he wasn’t careful.
Kenton was trying really hard to be careful.
Monica offered Lora a faint smile as she asked, “How long have you known Frank Garrison?”
Lora’s whole body tensed. “Almost twenty years. And believe me, you’re way off base with him. Garrison is not the one you—”
“He was almost pushed into early retirement earlier this year, wasn’t he?” Kenton asked.
Lora slanted those golden eyes his way. “There were cutbacks, but luckily the brass realized that we couldn’t afford to lose someone like him.”
“I bet Garrison didn’t like the idea that he’d be pushed out of his station,” Monica murmured.
“No.” Clipped. “He didn’t like it all.” One brow lifted. “And I’m sure he told you just that very fact when you interviewed him. Garrison doesn’t believe in bullshitting.”
Lora’s gaze centered on Monica. “I think I was wrong,” she told Monica, studying the other woman carefully. “I think you know just how to lead your suspects, how to press buttons, and how to get right under the skin.”
Monica stared right back at her. “Tell me, Lora, why did you become a firefighter?”
Lora’s hands flew across the table, and she snatched the file away from the agent in a blink. “Isn’t that in here? Isn’t everything in here?”
Yeah, it was.
Lora’s voice stayed low and hot as she fired back, “Isn’t this little talk more about you watching us, observing, seeing our reactions up close and personal so you can decide who might be the weak link here? Who just might be verging on the edge of crazy?”
Monica didn’t make a grab for the file but just watched Lora. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Tell me, have you danced with crazy lately?”
Kenton tensed. What the—
Lora laughed and tossed the file onto the tabletop. “Every single night. That’s what happens when you pull someone you love from the fire, and you watch them die. When you can’t do a thing but watch.”
Monica’s face went blank.
Lora inched in closer. “What about you, Special Agent Davenport? Have you ‘danced’ real close with crazy?” she whispered. “ ’Cause something tells me that you’ve done it more than me.”
Holy shit—Monica flinched.
Lora shoved away from the table. “I’m done here.”
And he watched the fine sway of her ass as Lora stormed out.
Silence. Then Monica turned to stare at him. “Better be careful with her,” she said with a bit of admiration. “That’s a lot of fury there.”
“You know she’s torn up about Carter.” Kenton kept his voice even with an effort. It had been six months, but the rage still burned bright for Lora.
He might be getting her body, but it looked as if Lora’s heart belonged to a dead man.
Monica shook her head. “I don’t think she was talking about Carter.” She lifted the file. “The SSD’s report came in on Lora and all the firefighters at this station.” Monica gave a little shrug. “The killer is targeting them for a reason, you know. This city, these firefighters, this station… there’s a link, somewhere.”
He knew it. The perp had a target zone for his kills—a zone that wrapped all the fires up and had them locked to station eleven on Bringham Boulevard.
Kenton stared at the file. He’d read a preliminary file on Lora before, but not the newest data from the SSD. His fingers flexed, and he remembered touching smooth skin. Soft, like satin.
Smooth skin, then—
The rough line of scars that ripped across the base of her spine.
Blue eyes stared back at him. “What do you know?” Monica asked.
He exhaled on a long sigh. “She was hurt. A long time ago, probably in a fire.” This hadn’t been in the first report, but he’d learned that secret in the darkness.
“Yes, she was thirteen.”
So young. Hard to imagine Lora young like that.
Before the fire.
“The flames spread at her house, too fast. She was hurt. Her brother—the fire caught him, burned over 60 percent of his body. The doctors didn’t think he’d make it, and her dad, well, he only lived a few seconds after getting pulled out of the house. He died right in front of her.”
And all you can do is watch.
Sonofabitch.
He spun away and yanked open the door. “Lora!”
CHAPTER Eight
Lora, wait!” Kenton grabbed her hand and spun her around. “Lora, dammit, I-I’m sorry.”
Her brows shot up. “Sorry for being an ass?”
“Sorry you had to come in there.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Look, it sucks, okay? The situation is shit.”
Agreed.
His voice lowered. “But Lora, the evidence is pointing to a firefighter, and we have to follow that trail.”
She shook her head. “I don’t—”
“You know the guy has insider knowledge.”
Yes, dammit. Those fires had been too perfect.
“He uses different accelerants,” Kenton continued, “and the fires all have different points of origin.” He shook his head.“Most arsonists have a pet accelerant and they stick to a standard point of origin.” He paused. “That’s not the case with this guy, and the fact that he knows how to successfully use so many accelerants in so many different locations…”
Kenton didn’t have to finish. She knew where he was headed. A firefighter would have knowledge like that. Any firefighter could walk into a house and immediately find the weak spots—those places that would burn so well.
Just like the arsonist was doing.
She swallowed the denial that wanted to rise in her throat. Hell, he was right and that part hurt her the most.
“It’s not personal,” he told her. “We’re doing our jobs.”
And his job had brought Kenton to her station to interview her and her friends. To dig into their pasts. Lora blew out a hard breath. “You know, don’t you? You investigated us all, and you know about me.” He’d already felt her scars, he’d touched them last night, so there was no reason for her to be feeling so—
Exposed.
Vulnerable.
No reason, but she did. And those feelings had driven her right out of that conference room. Why couldn’t she be more like Davenport? Why couldn’t she have more control?
Rick and Wade rounded the corner and nearly slammed right into them. “Hell.” Kenton shoved a hand through his perfect hair. “Where can we talk, alone?”
The guy didn’t get it. There were always eyes and ears at this place. But she took his hand and elbowed past them as she led Kenton up the narrow stairs, then to the right. To the room that had been reserved for her and Amanda.
He slammed the door shut behind them.
“Fine, we’re alone—” She turned back toward him, aware that her voice was shaking just a little. All my secrets. “Now you can—”
He grabbed her and kissed her and drove his tongue deep into her mouth like he had some kind of right to her.
Her nails bit into his arms. Her ni**les tightened because, ah, damn, she might be pissed, but she still wanted him.
Last night was not enough. More like just an appetizer, and she was ready for the main course.
Kenton’s hands curled over her ass, and he pulled her up against his cock.
Full, thick and ready with lust, hunger, and need.
Not pity. Even though he had to know…
Her hands flattened over his muscled chest, and she shoved back. Her breath panted out, mixing with his.
“You know.” She didn’t make it a question because she was sure all the facts about her life were in that thin little manila file. All typed up, nice and neat, ready to see.
He didn’t let her go. His hands stayed locked on her ass, and that erection—it was all she could do not to arch against him. “I know about the fire when you were thirteen, if that’s what you’re asking about.”
Her chin lifted. “Let me go.” She couldn’t talk to him like this. Too close. His body too hot.
“This isn’t over.” It came out as a snarl. “We’re not.”
She blinked. “Uh, run that by me again?”
“You might be pissed, you might want to kick my ass out of the station, but that’s business. The case.”
The doorknob rattled. “Lora?” Amanda called. “You in there? The knob’s jammed—”
“Busy!” Kenton yelled.
Silence, and then they heard the quick thud of retreating footsteps.
Ah, great, now Amanda would think they were screwing, and Amanda had one big mouth.
Screwing at the station. Yeah, that was the gossip she wanted floating around her team.
Having sex with the agent on her own time, that was one thing. She’d take the ribbing from that, but at the station…
A dull throb began in her right temple.
“Maybe you wanted a screw to make you forget.”
His flat words had her chin lifting.
“Maybe you wanted to remind yourself that you are alive, even if he’s not.”
Okay, now he was getting damn personal. “Watch it, GQ.” She yanked away from him and paced in front of the window. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Really? I think I do. I think I’m learning a whole lot about you.”
She wouldn’t look at him. “I’ll keep working the case with you. You know I want to catch this bastard.” But the perp’s not here. Not at my station. Not on my team. She’d know.
“I want more than that.” The floor squeaked beneath him, and she knew he was stalking her.
She stopped moving. “I don’t have a lot to give right now.” True. He didn’t understand. Sex—that was all. Inside, she was too hollow.
I don’t want to hurt again. It was too easy to care, then it hurt too much when you lost the one you cared for.
He was right behind her now. She could feel him.
“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone.”
Her eyes stayed on the ground outside the window. Max was leaving, heading out, probably on a grocery run.
Kenton stood behind her, not touching her, but standing close, warm and strong. “When I was ten,” his voice rumbled, “a drunk driver hit me and my mom. We were driving home, on the way from soccer practice.”
She looked back at him. Had to. “I–I’m sorry.”
His eyes gazed at her, but she had a feeling the guy saw the past. “He hit the side of our car and slammed into her. For the longest time, I could hear the sound of that metal, crunching around us… and her crying. She cried a lot.” He swallowed. “Cried so much, because she didn’t die, not right away.”
Oh, God.
She whirled to face him. “Kent…”
“I couldn’t get to her. I was pinned in the back.” Cold and flat. She knew that voice. She’d used that voice before. “And that bastard—he ran and left us there.”
Lora could only shake her head.
“She kept telling me that everything was going to be all right. Not to worry. It’ll be all right.”
Lora’s brother had told her that, too. He’d been wrong.
“But I knew. I could smell her blood. See it on the broken windshield. I knew. And all I could do was sit there and wait for her to die.”
Lora’s eyes closed.
“By the time someone else came along that stretch of road, she wasn’t talking anymore.”
“Kenton…” Her eyes opened. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me—”
“I do.” His eyes glittered with fury and pain. “You’re not the only one who’s lost. You’re not the only one who sat there when death came, and you couldn’t do anything.”
She wanted to reach out and touch him. He was right there, so close, and—
He’s just like me.
Twisted by the past.
“What…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “What happened to that driver?”
“He went to prison. Vehicular manslaughter. Got five f**king years.”
Five years didn’t seem so long when balanced with a life.
“Six months after he got out, he hit a big rig, head-on. Bastard died at the scene.”
Was that justice? She wasn’t sure. These days, she didn’t have any idea what real justice was anymore.
“My dad never got over her death. Hell, for years it seemed like he could barely look at me. He shut himself off, all but crawled into the grave with her.”
Jesus. At least she hadn’t been alone after she lost her dad. With her brothers, she was never alone.
