Not quite. “We’re following up on a few leads right now,” Kenton allowed carefully. “We’ve found a connection between the victims.” Kenton figured he could say that much. Now, where was Peter Malone? He needed to talk to the detective ASAP. An officer was supposed to be checking on him, but damn, how long did it take to find one cop?

“A connection?” Seth’s gaze darted between him and Sam. “What kind of connection? I never saw a link. I looked through the victims’ files—”

“This link was a bit harder to find.” But not impossible to discover. At least, not if you knew how to slide into prison files and arrest records on a cyber trail.

And, in the case of Jennifer Langley, not if you could find someone willing to talk about some dark deeds.

“Is Lora connected to them?” Seth ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe he went after one of our own!”

“He’s been going after firefighters for a while.” One of our own. The phrase stuck in his head. “Seth, what did you do before you became the arson investigator?”

He straightened a bit. “I was a firefighter at the station on Bringham.”

“With Lora?”

A ghost of a smile lifted his lips. “Uh, yeah. I worked there until I transferred to arson.”

Of course the guy had been a firefighter, but he hadn’t thought the man had worked with Garrison’s current crew. “Why’d you leave?”

The smile faded away. “I couldn’t do the job anymore.” Seth’s gaze fell, and so did Kenton’s.

The limp. Shit. Right.

“You were injured on the job?” The soft question was Sam’s.

Seth exhaled, hard, and the fingers of his right hand went to his long shirt sleeve. He rolled up the material with quick movements of his hand. “You could say that.”

The flesh was smooth, tanned at first. Then…

Rough. Red. Twisted and raised.

He rolled up the other sleeve. That arm was scarred the same way. Christ.

“Got caught in a building collapse. My leg was pinned, broken, the bone breaking out of the skin.” Seth shrugged his shoulders. “My arms really aren’t so bad. My back… it’s much worse.”

“How’d you get out?” Sam asked. She’d barely escaped death herself. Actually, she hadn’t escaped. For a few precious seconds, death had held her in his grasp.

Seth swallowed and looked away. He began to tug his left sleeve down, in hard, angry moves. “Carter Creed hauled me out. He found me and pulled me out of there when I figured I was as good as dead. I was screaming and choking on smoke and flames.”

Kenton glanced at Sam and saw her lips tremble.

Seth rolled his shoulders. “Two years later, I’m here, and he’s in the ground. Life can be a real bitch sometimes.” His eyes lifted. “I am working this case. Lora might not think I’m trying but I am. I got my whole department on board with me. We’re not stopping, not until this is over.”

The faint lines around Seth’s eyes tightened as he stared at Kenton. “I meant what I said last night. Carter Creed was a hero. He didn’t deserve to die in that fire, and if it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna repay my debt to him.”

Carter. “So you’re a fan of his, but not hers.” Seth’s earlier words still rang in his ears. She’s using you, man… She’s done it before. You’re not him.

No, he wasn’t Carter.

“No, that’s not…” Seth shook his head fast. “I saw what she was like, after, and I know her.” His dark stare glittered. “You met her days ago, but I’ve known her for years.”

Kenton knew her, too, inside and out, and he didn’t need this guy telling him about his lover.

He could feel Sam’s stare on him but he didn’t look her way. Not now. He kept Seth pinned with his gaze.

“Lora tries to forget sometimes.” Seth licked his lips. “She hasn’t learned yet that you can’t forget.”

Kenton remembered the first time that he’d had Lora in bed. Look at me. He’d never be a stand-in for a dead man.

No matter how much of a f**king hero the guy was.

“This isn’t—I didn’t come here to—”

“Special Agent Lake!”

He turned at the call and found a nervous-looking cop shouldering across the bullpen.

“I found Detective Malone,” the cop called out. “He’s gone to the Bringham fire station to talk to Garrison.”

“We need to detain him, now.” Kenton’s phone rang, vibrating in his pocket. He yanked it out. “Lake.”

“I thought you’d want to know,” came Jon’s easy voice. “Lora’s on her way to the fire station. The captain called her, and she’s gonna fill in for someone with food poisoning.”

Lora was headed to the station. Malone was there. Shit. “Stay with her, and when you get there, don’t let Detective Malone out of your sight.”

Because all these puzzle pieces were lining up. And right in the middle, like a big giant X, was the fire station on Bringham.

“I’ll meet you in twenty, Jon,” Kenton told him. He spun away from Seth and Sam and hurried toward Captain Lawrence’s office. He knocked first, barely, then pushed inside. “I’m gonna need your personnel reports.”

The captain looked up at him. “The hell you—”

He’d left the door open because he didn’t care who overheard them. Twenty minutes. No time to waste. “You know how the Watchman case ended.” He shook his head. “You really want that same shit on your doorstep?” Kenton’s control was razor thin.

Silence filled the air behind him as those in the bullpen strained to hear.

The captain slowly stood up. “You’re sayin’ my men—”

“We’re checking the firefighters. We’re checking the cops.” Not all of them. But there were some right at the top of the SSD’s list. “And I want to start with Peter Malone.” The detective seemed like a good guy, but appearances could be deceiving.

He knew that too well.

“Starting with him, but there’ll be others.” There always were.

Lawrence gave a jerky nod and walked toward the door. “I—I’ll go to personnel.”

“We’ll go.” He followed right on the captain’s heels. “And we’ll f**king hurry.”




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