Max winked. “And the women think I’m sexy as hell in my uniform.” Max shot Kenton a glance from the corner of his eye. “Ask Lora. She’ll tell you. The ladies can’t get enough of me.”
Kenton stared right back at him. Max didn’t blink.
Monica flipped open her file. “Hmmm… an adrenaline junkie? It says here that both your father and grandfather were firefighters. Your dad—he died on the job.” A pause. “Guess they liked the adrenaline, too.”
“My dad was a damn good firefighter!” Max blasted.
Ah, now they were seeing some real emotion from the guy.
“You don’t know how many lives he saved,” Max snarled. “He didn’t give a shit about—”
“Oh?” Her head tilted back. “He didn’t care about the sex and the high from the fires? Not like you, huh?”
His fingers balled into fists.
“How old were you when he died?” Kenton asked, knowing it was time to slide his questions in and divide the guy’s focus.
Max’s head nodded toward the files. “She knows. Let her tell you.”
“You were sixteen,” Monica said.
Max’s jaw worked. “My old man died a hero. A hero. He saved five people from that building on Kurtworth. He made a difference.”
“He did,” she agreed and closed the file. But then Monica reached for another. “But your grandfather… he was another matter, right?”
Max flinched but Monica kept talking. “He started those fires that he fought in New York, didn’t he? The guy went to jail because he was a—what did you call it a few moments ago?”
“Fire freak,” Kenton supplied, watching the guy closely.
“Right,” Monica agreed.
Max’s fists slammed into the table. “I’m nothing like him.”
“Well…” Kenton crossed his arms over his chest and carefully studied the guy. “That’s what we’re here to find out.” Time to cut through the lies.
The door slammed behind Max forty minutes later.
“Making friends left and right,” Kenton muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s not about making friends.” Monica straightened her files. “It’s about saving lives.”
Kenton heard raised voices from the hallway. A distinct “Piss off” came from Max. Exhaling heavily, Kenton said, “My gut tells me that’s not our guy. His alibis are gonna check out, and he’s got too much rage at his grandfather—too much hate for what he did. The last thing he wants is to walk in his footsteps.”
“I think you’re right.” So she pushed his file away. “One down.”
The stack of files was huge. It was going to be a long afternoon. He reached for the next file.
Frank Garrison. Yeah, this one wouldn’t go easily. He rose and walked to the door. He twisted the knob.
Garrison was waiting for Kenton when he opened the door. One of Garrison’s thick brows lifted. “My turn, Special Agent?”
After this much time in the business, Garrison should know the drill. Kenton nodded and stepped back to make room for the chief to enter.
Garrison took his time getting seated. He stretched out his legs and eased back in the chair, letting his arms hang loosely at his sides.
Kenton closed the door and went back to his seat. Monica already had Garrison’s file open.
“I don’t have any secrets,” Garrison said, shrugging. “And I’m not the one you’re looking at for these fires.”
Everyone had secrets. Kenton’s gaze held Garrison’s. “You wanted Lora to bring in the SSD.”
“Lora had a hunch. Her hunches are usually sound.” The deep lines around Garrison’s mouth tightened. “And I didn’t want to run the risk of burying any more of my men.”
Sounded like the truth. Garrison’s gaze was steady and his voice was calm and easy. But Kenton didn’t really think the guy was the calm and easy sort.
Monica’s nail skimmed down the report. “You were the one who gave the order to evacuate at the Skofield scene.” She glanced up at him. “Even though you knew one of your own team members was inside, you told the others to leave Carter behind.”
Garrison’s hands rose only to flatten on the table. Ah, now that relaxed pose was starting to vanish. “Staying in would have risked other lives. I had a job—I had to get them out of there.”
“Lora didn’t listen to your order, did she?” Kenton asked.
Garrison’s breath rasped out. “I thought it was a damn miracle that she managed to get out alive.”
“Shortly after that fire,” Monica said, “you nearly left this station.”
Kenton caught the slight narrowing of Garrison’s eyes. “There were budget cuts.”
“And you were almost forced into early retirement.”
“Almost doesn’t count.” Garrison’s smile held a hard edge. “I’m still here. No one’s taking over my team.”
Interesting. “Do you trust all the men and women here, Chief?” Kenton threw out the question, wondering about the response he’d get.
Garrison’s eyes held his. “I trust them as much as you trust your own team.”
Ah, good answer. No wonder Lora liked the guy so much.
“We’re going to need to verify your whereabouts for the arsons.”
“I was on vacation for the first fire, doing some fishing down in Biloxi.” He shrugged. “For the others, I was here in town. I got to the scenes as fast as I could. Hell, I was on duty for the Skofield arson. I was right there when—” He broke off, swallowing, and he lowered his head.
The moments ticked by in silence before Garrison looked back up at them. “I don’t got a wife. No kids. So I’m not going to have somebody who can step right up and tell you where I was when these damn fires were set.” He leaned toward the table, his body tense. “For thirty years, this job has been my life. The fire has taken me down, but it’s never beat me. I stay here, every day, because this is where I belong. The people here—my team—they’re my family.”
So the station was his life, and he’d almost been kicked out of his only home. Sure would be cause enough to piss off most people.
Garrison stood, and his hands shook a bit. “I’m not the damn arsonist. I wouldn’t put my people at risk. I’d f**king never do that.”