“Perhaps you’re not putting them at risk,” Kenton spoke slowly. He could see the pulse racing just beneath the skin on Garrison’s throat. “I mean, if the firefighters were good enough, they’d save the victims and escape without injury. Maybe it’s not about hurting them. Maybe it’s about testing them.”
Monica leaned forward. “Are they failing your test?”
“They’re my team! I wouldn’t, I—”
“Since the arsons started in your area, there has been no more talk of budget cuts, right?” Kenton saw the chief’s face redden when he asked the question.
“Folks just realized they needed us,” Garrison snapped out the words.
“Guess they just needed a little fire to remind them,” Monica said, her voice quiet.
Two hours later, Kenton and Monica had worked their way through most of the firefighters at the Bringham station. They’d gotten some answers, some suspicions, and a lot of angry door slamming.
“Why don’t you… ah… let me handle the next one alone?” she asked.
Christ. He’d wondered when they’d get to her. “Lora?”
A nod.
Kenton stalked across the room and yanked open the door. “No, I can do my damn job.” The hallway was clear now as he marched forward, rounded the corner, and nearly collided with Max. “I need Lora.”
Max’s blue eyes narrowed. “I’m not a killer.”
“Neither am I.” Lora’s voice. She stepped into the hallway. “But I guess I’m up, huh?”
She’d changed and put on a light blue T-shirt with a firefighter’s logo on the right pocket. She wore a pair of slim black pants, pants that hugged her thighs. He averted his gaze. “Just a few questions…”
“Right.” She brushed past him. “And when will you guys go after the real killer?”
Ah, hit. The woman was good at taking her shots. If he didn’t watch it, he’d be as bruised as Max.
Luke followed her into the room and shut the door with a soft click.
“This is cozy,” Lora murmured and eyed the files. “Let me guess, my whole life is in one of them, right?” She glanced his way. “Know all my dirty secrets, yet?”
His lips pressed together.
Lora used her foot to yank out a chair, and she sat down, crossing her arms over her chest.
Oh, yeah. That cold shoulder was frigid. Sometimes doing his job could be a real bitch.
“So…” Lora drawled, “is this where you ask me where I was when the fires started? Because I can tell you that, easy. I was working, right here at the station, when those calls came in. Well, except for the fire that took that last poor bastard at the drug house on Byron, and the chief can back me up—”
“I’m sure he can.” Monica’s fingers hovered over the file, and she shot a quick glance his way. What? Did the woman really think he was going to cut out?
No way. He crossed his arms and stared down at them from his position near the table. Lora might be pissed as hell at him, but he wasn’t leaving her.
They’d both suffer through it.
Monica cleared her throat with a delicate little cough. “Have you observed any unusual behavior here at the station? Any guys seem preoccupied? Maybe depressed?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
“You’re not the killer.” Absolute certainty from Monica. “Kenton and I both know it. He said it before we even came down here, before I even got…” Her nails tapped on the manila folder. “Your file.”
Lora’s gaze jumped back to him. “Good to know, GQ.”
Hadn’t he told her that already? He stepped forward.
“But I’m thinking you’re a real observant woman, Ms. Spade.” Monica gave her a smile. “I’m observant, too. I notice things about people. It’s what I’m good at.”
“Good for you.”
Kenton coughed, his not quite as delicate-sounding as Monica’s.
Another tap against the file. “I noticed right away that this case was very personal for you. You want revenge.” Monica paused. “You don’t just want the killer stopped, do you? You want him to pay.”
“Innocent people died.” Lora gave a little shrug. “Payback can be a painful bitch. Just the way life is.”
“Since you want him stopped so badly, I know you’ll help us in any way you can with the investigation.” Monica was very smooth.
“I have been helping. I stopped waiting on Seth to dick around with these fires. I got your asses down here. I took GQ to the crime scenes—”
“And now you’ll tell us what you’ve seen, right? Tell us if you’ve observed anything odd from the guys in the station? Because that would really help, Lora. It would help a lot.”
Lora’s eyes couldn’t narrow much more. “I do love to be a helper.”
Kenton grabbed a chair, flipped it around, straddled it and locked her in his sights. “I’m an ass**le.”
Couldn’t get much blunter than that.
“Kenton…” Monica began, her finger no longer tapping.
“Yes, you are.” Lora assured him at the same moment. Ah, so much fire there.
He smiled. “But I’m good at my job. And you’re pissed, I know you’re pissed, but I also know that you understand what we’re doing. You don’t like us being here, questioning your friends, but you know we have to do it. You wanted us to investigate this perp, and that’s what we’re doing. We’re following all the leads, even the ones that might make you uncomfortable.”
Oh, but when this day was over, he damn well hoped that she’d let him back into her good graces. And into her bed.
She exhaled, and her shoulders relaxed a bit. The routine might piss her off, but she understood the way cases were worked. “You could have tried asking us to all give statements. Not telling us that we had to come in here for a grilling.”
He held her gaze. Earlier, he’d been afraid to meet that stare. Too nervous—so much for being the big, bad agent—about what he’d see. Because he liked to see need in Lora’s gaze. Lust. Interest.
Not anger. Not coming at him.
“I’m not real big on finesse.”
“Bullshit.” Lora’s lips twisted. “You’re fine at finesse. Better than fine. You’re trying to finesse me now. You’re a manipulator, GQ. You do whatever you have to do in order to get what you want.”