The victims… it’s all about them.
An image of Larry Powell flashed before Kenton’s face. The guy had been shaking, sweating—
Jonesing for his drugs.
Looked like their vic had been jonesing, too. Only he hadn’t gotten to enjoy his stash.
Death had come first.
Shit, if the vic was Larry…
Larry Powell had seen someone at that fire scene on LeRoy.
And maybe, just maybe, the other bastard had come back. “I’ve got to make a call.” The ME would have the body. Maybe he could cut down some of that IDing time if he gave Heather Jennings a nudge in the right direction.
Maybe. Maybe not.
Keith Hyde intimidated the hell out of her, and normally, Lora wasn’t intimidated by anyone or anything.
“So you called my office.”
They were outside. A few more techs were sweeping the scene. Maybe they’d do a better job and not—oh, overlook the evidence. The techs should have found that cocaine bag long before she did.
She glanced at him. “The cases needed to move faster. I was pretty sure the SSD could give them an ass-kicking to the top of the priority list.”
Seth headed to his van, limping slightly, his head bent as he talked with a tech, a petite redhead with very animated hands.
“You risked pissing some folks off by going over their heads,” Hyde told her.
And she knew he was right. She could immediately think of two men who would fall into that pissed-off category: Seth and Jason Lawrence, the police captain who’d refused to acknowledge the link between the arson murders.
“I piss folks off every day.” She’d never been Miss Congeniality. One shoulder lifted. “You can’t please everyone.”
“So you try to please yourself?”
She blinked. Ah… “You know, don’t you?”
“About you and Creed?” His lips firmed. “Yes. Trust me, if I’m on a case, there’s little I don’t know about.”
“It’s not… just about wanting justice for him.” Or making the screams stop.
Her screams because Carter hadn’t even had the chance to scream. Or to call for help or—
“Revenge can twist you up. Destroy you from the inside out.” He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were on Kenton as the guy paced back and forth, talking fast to someone on his phone.
Revenge. “But sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps you going.” When you thought about lying down in a grave with someone, you needed something to live for.
“I want the bastard to pay.” She wouldn’t lie or spout some high moral crap. “I want him to burn.”
“I suspected you did.”
And she suspected there was a whole lot more to Keith Hyde than met the eye.
She turned toward him, really saw him. Perfect suit—hell, he and Kenton must shop at the same place. Short black hair, cut close to his scalp, faint lines around those black eyes, the barest hint of gray at his temples, and skin a deep, dark brown.
The guy was older, but his body looked strong and hard. This wasn’t a man who sat at his desk, shoving papers around and dicking away his day.
This was a man who could look and know people.
“I don’t want anyone else to die.” Another honest comment from her. Because she could be honest. Just as she could be selfish. “If he’s not stopped, he’ll just keep burning and killing.”
“True.” His smile flashed. A lot of sharp, white teeth. “That’s why I’m here.”
Kenton shoved his phone back into his pocket. When he whirled to face them, she saw the butt of his gun.
“Watch your step with my agent, ma’am.” Hyde’s warning surprised her.
She blinked and dragged her gaze back to him.
Hyde’s smile had dimmed a bit. His brows lowered and he said, “When folks go after revenge, they can lose control. Sometimes, those people can become as dangerous as the killers I hunt.”
She wasn’t dangerous. She just wanted some peace. Was that so much to ask?
“Good job finding the bag.” Hyde adjusted his jacket. Not that it really needed adjusting. “Frank was right. You do have a good eye for the details.”
He’d been talking to Frank?
Of course he had. Hyde knew the name of her last lover. The guy could probably tell her what kind of toothpaste she used.
“I never go into a situation blind.” Hyde’s eyes bored into her. “If you’re the contact here, I have to make sure you’re clear before we bring you on board.”
Lora wet her lips. “You can trust me.”
Hyde laughed. “No, I can’t. But we can still use you.”
Ah, at least he was being honest, too.
Kenton stopped beside them. His brows were drawn low. “What’s so funny?”
“Not a damn thing,” Hyde assured him.
Kenton’s eyes narrowed, but then he asked, “When’s Monica getting here?”
Hyde glanced at his watch. “Probably a little after sunset. I’m gonna get Ramirez to come down, too. I want a strong team working this one.”
“We’ll catch him.” Kenton sounded certain.
“I’ll be flying to Colorado tonight. Kim’s found four graves out there.” Hyde took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Every time I turn around, there’s another one…”
And they hunted the freaks every day. Day in, day out, seeing the worst that humanity had to offer. “You ever get to save anybody, Hyde? Or is it—” What had he said about the woman? Kim? She’d found four graves. Is it just dead bodies?
Most days, she saved lives, and Lora liked that. Seeing a family safe—best damn part of her job.
Not the adrenaline, though sure, that rush could make you feel fifty feet high. But it was more.
Getting someone out safe—a hell of a lot more.
“I put the killers in cages, and they don’t hurt anyone else.” His head cocked. “That’s saving lives.”
Because if he didn’t stop them, they’d just keep killing.
Her gaze swept to Kenton. What about him? How did he work in this game? And why?
“Call me if you need anything, Lake, and watch your ass. I don’t want another agent going missing, ever, you got me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Another tight nod, then Hyde was gone. He strode away with his head and shoulders up.
Lora finally released a full breath. “He’s kinda scary.” In the chew-you-up-and-spit-you-out way.
“Yeah,” Kenton told her, voice expressionless. “He is.”
She cleared her throat. “What did he mean about an agent going missing?”
Kenton rubbed his jaw. “You ever hear of the Watchman?”
Sounded familiar. It took a second, but the name clicked. “Uh, wait, he was the guy killing down in Mississippi, right? Torturing the women—”
“He made their worst fears come true.” Same flat voice.
He’d worked that case? Talk about your real-life monsters.
Jeez, was there ever any light in the guy’s life? Or was it always blood and death?
“He took one of the agents working the case. Nearly killed her.”
Her heart thudded into her chest. She didn’t remember reading about that in the papers. “Holy shit.”
“We got her back.” Grim now, with some fury cracking his flat surface. “It was the first time I ever worked a case that became personal. He made it personal because that was part of his twisted game.”
She swallowed and rocked back on her heels. Her hands were balled into fists because she had the stupid urge to touch him. To pat his arm or just… touch. Because there was pain there, and if she understood anything in this world, it was pain. “She’s okay now?”
His lips tightened. “We got her back,” he said again, and it really wasn’t an answer.
Screw it. Lora reached out to him. She skimmed her hand down his arm and felt him tense. “Why do you do this?”
“Because someone has to.”
 
; Her fingers curled around him. The heat from his body reached out to her. So warm. So strong.
“What about you?” His stare was steady and deep. “Running into burning buildings isn’t the safest job. Why do it?”
She knew her smile was sad. Because she wasn’t going to give him the truth either. “Because someone has to.”
He’d watched them haul out the body.
What was left of it.
Watched the swarm of techs. And the news vans that came and went, as the reporters stopped for scene shots of the “gruesome” death.
He’d watched it all.
Then he’d seen her.
Lora came back to his scene, and she brought the Bureau bastards with her.
A trickle of sweat slid down his back. Fucking heat. Summers here were always a bitch.
His eyes narrowed as he watched them, Lora and the special agent. Kenton Lake.
He was running a check on the agent. He’d find dirt. There was always dirt. Always secrets.
Even Lora had secrets. Secrets she’d hoped were buried in the ashes. But he’d found them. He was good at finding secrets.
And if the secrets he discovered were bad enough, well, sometimes he had to punish the wicked.
Fire was perfect for that job.
If Lora wasn’t careful, he’d have to punish her soon.
The match flipped between his fingertips.
• • •
“I want to see Jerome’s crime scene,” Kenton told her and saw Lora’s eyes widen.
“What? You mean now?”
“Yes.” They still had daylight, and he needed to see the place on LeRoy for himself. “Come on, we’ll take my SUV.” He’d bring her back later. He wanted her eyes with him at the scene. She’d be able to paint a picture of exactly how that fire had started. And he wanted the details. Every one.
He needed her.
She gave a slow nod, her hair skirting her cheeks. “Okay.”
They strode toward his SUV, and Kenton wondered how long it would take to hear back from the ME. If she turned up a match, if that poor bastard turned out to be Larry Powell—
Then they had the first victim link.
He was sure it would be a match.
“Agent Lake?”
He looked up and met Detective Peter Malone’s stare. The cop blinked. “Lake, wh-what are you doing here?”
“Trying to catch a killer.”
“Uh—”
“The FBI is starting a task force.” Might as well tell him now. Lora stilled beside him. “By the time you get back to your office, your captain will be ready to brief you.”
“A task force?” A thick line appeared between Malone’s brows, and his blue eyes widened. “But—”
“We’ve got an arsonist who likes to burn folks in Charlottesville.” His teeth flashed. “The SSD is taking over—and we’re taking him out.”
Peter’s gaze darted to Lora. “You told him about the others?”
“Yes.”
He exhaled. “Good.” The cop glanced at the house, his nose twitching. “Lora and I—we’ve been talking about the connections, but I couldn’t get my boss to listen. Couldn’t get more manpower. I knew there was more going on—” He swiped sweat off his brow. “Let’s just say I am damn glad you’re here.”
Kenton blinked, a bit surprised. Guess that meant he could count on some cooperation from the cops.
Of course, he’d thought he’d had cooperation on the last case, too.
That had gone to shit.
“I’ll be in to talk to your unit.” He gave Detective Malone a slow nod. “But first I’ve got a pit stop to make. We’re going back to the Jerome murder scene.”
Malone sidestepped out of his way. “Be careful, man, that place ain’t safe.”
“Don’t worry,” Lora murmured. “I’ll keep him safe.”
Right. Because that was just what he needed.
“He didn’t seem pissed that you’d gone over his head.” Kenton slammed his door shut and engaged the alarm. He glanced to the left, the right, and wondered if he’d come out to find his rental stolen. In this neighborhood, a stolen vehicle was a definite possibility.
“Pete’s been following the cases pretty hard. But brass gave him trouble. We needed more help. He knew that.”
“Did you tell him you were calling the SSD?” He headed for the line of yellow police tape that secured the property.
“Uh, no.” She shot him a sheepish glance. “I wasn’t even sure you guys would believe me. But I knew I had to do something.”
He eyed the blackened holes where windows had once been. “Trust me, we’re believing.” It was pretty hard to ignore a pile of bodies.
“Kent, I—” She broke off, shaking her head.
Ah, what was this?
“Thank you,” she gritted, and it really seemed like the words were hard for her. Probably because they were.
“Don’t thank me yet, sweetheart. I haven’t got your killer.”
Her hands clenched. “Hyde doesn’t like me much.”
Hyde wasn’t the liking sort. Kenton shrugged and let his eyes drift back to the hollowed building. “I don’t really care about that.”
“Because you screw who you want?”
He blinked. Didn’t expect that. But… “Yeah, that would be the general rule.”
“He said he didn’t trust me.”
Kenton’s mouth curled. “Hyde doesn’t trust anyone outside the SSD.” And as they’d all learned the hard way, when you were working cases this intense, it paid to watch your back and trust only those on your own team.
One mistake, and you’d be dead.
These killers were too sharp. There was a reason the local law enforcement folks called them in.
Lora exhaled heavily and walked ahead of him, skirting the police tape, moving easily, lightly on her feet. “So you always try to take women to bed even though you don’t trust them?”
She’d thrown that one back nicely. He let his gaze drop from the sagging roof he’d been studying and onto her very fine ass. “Trust doesn’t stop pleasure.”
Lora stilled. “So it’s just about the pleasure?”
“What’s wrong with that?” After hell, pleasure sounded really good to him.
She looked back over her shoulder, the setting sun reflecting in her eyes. So gold.
Fuck. Was he supposed to have lied? He’d never lied his way into a woman’s bed, and he wouldn’t start now.
He wanted Lora.
He was pretty damn sure the sex between them would be incredible. Hell, the woman was explosive. Just looking at her made him hard.
But he was talking about lust and pleasure. What did she want? More?
Kenton wasn’t sure that he had more to give.
“I like the way you look at me,” she whispered.
She’d lost him, again. Because Kenton figured he was looking at her like a man starving. It was those eyes, those lips—the things he wanted to do with that mouth. To that mouth. He cleared his throat. “How do I look at you?”
“Like you want me.”
Damn straight. Now. Naked.
“Not with pity.”
What the hell?
“Or worry. Just… need.” Her tongue swiped out, pretty and pink. “I like that.”
She might as well have punched him in the stomach or given his cock a long, slow stroke.
Lora turned away. “When you work an arson scene, you start investigating from the outside, then work in. The most damage is always around the point of origin, and from what I could determine, the origin of the fire was on the first floor, in the back room…”
The woman was a tease. Shit, when they were done with this scene—
“Gasoline was the accelerant. If you look,” her hands pointed. “You can see the scorch marks on the wall. The fire started on the floor, following the path of the gas. It snaked back here, then rose to the second floor.”
Kenton took a breath. Tasted ash and her. Focus.
He’d asked her out here to pick her brain, not to fantasize about having her naked.
I like the way you look at me.
Lora Spade was very dangerous.
“Fire always wants to burn up,” she told him as her gaze scanned the scene. “So when you see the flames staying low, that’s a sign that a flammable liquid is controlling the direction of the fire.”
“The storage closet where they found Jerome…” He cleared his throat because his voice sounded too rough. By-product of the lust raging through his blood. “It’s directly above us, right?”
A grim nod.
“If the killer had gasoline, he came here, knowing he’d set the fire.”
“The guy always comes prepared,” Lora said, cocking her head to watch him. “Or at least, he has been on the last few fires.”
Because the guy had evolved with the kills. Standard behavior for a serial. Those killers who weren’t caught learned to get smarter. Their arsonist had learned to prepare.
Time to reveal a bit more to her. “Jerome was an informant. His handler delivered a message to the SSD. Said Jerome had some info on the Skofield arson.”
Her lips parted. “And you didn’t tell me this right away?” She marched toward him. “You knew I wasn’t sure if this fire was connected. He never kills his victims first—”
“He did this time.” Kenton was certain of it. “Because he wanted to make sure Jerome never had the chance to talk.”
“The chance to talk… to you. That’s why you were here—you were coming to find out everything Jerome knew.”
He remembered the sight of the dancing flames. “I just got here too late.”
The floor above them creaked. Hell, the whole place seemed to be creaking and groaning.
“What did you hope to see here?” Lora asked, narrowing those sexy eyes. “Seth has been all over this place, and he didn’t—”
“He didn’t find the drugs at the last scene.”
“No, he didn’t.” She glanced behind her.
A car horn blared in the distance.
“Why’d he start the fire here, Lora? Why this spot?”
“The trail he set gave him easy access out. Toss and burn, that’s all he had to do here.”
“After he killed Jerome.” Just in case, huh, bastard? Just in case the firefighters beat you at your sick game, you didn’t want to take any chances.