CHAPTER Four

Who the hell are you, and what are you doing at my scene?” The snarl came at him the minute Kenton and Hyde crossed under the yellow line of police tape at the torched house on Byron Street.

A tall guy, with blond hair and narrowed brown eyes, glared at them, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’re the FBI,” Hyde told him, in that deep, booming voice of his. The voice that made the words sound like I’m God—who the fuck are you? “And, son, this is our scene.”

The muddy eyes became slits then. “I don’t think so.”

“Serial Services Division.” Kenton pulled out his ID. Just to be official. Sometimes, you had to follow the rules. “We believe this case is linked with a series of arson-related murders in the area, and we’re taking over the investigation.”

“Didn’t get your name…” Hyde said, but the words were a definite demand.

“Gentlemen, you’re looking at Chief County Arson Investigator Seth MacIntyre.” The husky words came from behind them.

Kenton spun around. Ah, there she was. Right on time.

Lora had on a black T-shirt, faded jeans, and a pair of tennis shoes. Casual, but damn, still sexy.

The woman always was.

As he watched, Lora pulled on a pair of gloves. One blond brow rose as she turned her gaze on Kenton’s boss. “And you’re Keith Hyde.”

Hyde turned his head slowly and locked his eyes on her. “Spade.”

Her head inclined, just a bit.

“What? Hold on, just hold on a minute here!” Seth snapped. “I don’t need any Bureau boys coming in, telling me how to do my job. Clear my scene, now. I haven’t even had time to check for—”

“Seth, you’ve been here for five hours.” Lora’s cool-as-you-please voice. “Forget the pissing match. They’re taking over because we’ve got to stop this bastard.”

The man’s face flushed red. “I’ve got this, Lora. I can—”

“We’re all in over our heads. They’re the SSD—this is what they do. They stop the serials.”

“W-we can’t even prove all the cases are linked,” Seth sputtered. “With Jennifer Langley—”

“Let us worry about the links,” Hyde told him, stepping into the charred house. “You just worry about collecting arson evidence from the scene.”

The scent of smoke burned Kenton’s nostrils. Two of the walls were all but gone, leaving blackened studs struggling to hold up part of the roof. Ashes covered the floor. Burnt insulation hung from the sagging roof.

“The SSD. I heard about y’all but…” Seth’s jaw clenched.

But you didn’t call us in. You had a serial hunting and you thought you could handle him on your own? Kenton stared at the guy. Just stared.

Seth swiped his hand over his face. “What are you hoping to find here?”

Kenton didn’t answer as he headed inside. Lora followed close behind him, then she swept past them all, going to study the partially intact wall in the back.

Seth took a deep breath. He’d come in behind them. “There’s no signature, okay? With the arsonists, there’s always a tag. They like to start ’em the same way. Same place. Origin’s usually fixed.”

Not with this guy.

The arson investigator shook his head. “I know these guys. They have a pet accelerant. One they always use to get the burn just right—”

“I told you, Seth. This jerk likes to change his fires.” Lora tossed this back without looking over her shoulder.

Seth’s shoulders sagged a bit. His face didn’t look quite so tense and angry then. Fear flickered in his eyes. “Another call came in?” A little bit of fear there, probably because the guy knew.

“Yeah,” Kenton told him. “It did.”

A rough sigh slipped past Seth’s lips. “I didn’t—I wasn’t told—”

“Your fires might be different, son, but the victims are all trapped and the killer—he wants to make sure we know he’s the one behind the flames.” Hyde stalked around the interior, being careful not to touch any of the evidence. Like the chunk of radiator that still had a handcuff closed around one blackened pipe.

Poor bastard.

“He’s a serial,” Hyde said. “And he’s ours.” Pissing match over. They’d take these cases, and Seth could work with them, or not at all.

Seth’s fingers clenched. “The first two—they were so different. A woman in her apartment. A guy in his garage. Not tied. Not bound. Not…” His gaze darted to Hyde and the radiator. “Cuffed.”

“And then the third kill came.” Kenton watched him, curious about the investigator’s reaction.

“His own body trapped him.” A hard swallow. “If the bastard hadn’t called us in on Hatchen…”

“He wanted us to know.” Lora turned around and put her hands on her hips. “The guy gets off on the fires, but he wants attention, too. He didn’t claim the first kill, but he’s claiming them now. Every one.”

“He wants the world to see how good he is.” Hyde’s eyes were on Lora. Studying her, weighing her.

“He wants the world to see that he’s fucking better than we are.” She shook her head. “Maybe Jennifer Langley was some kind of test, to see if he could do it. And when he torched her…”

He saw he could get away with murder.

Lora exhaled. “He sets it up as a race, the fire versus the firefighters, and every time, we lose.”

And sometimes, they died.

“That’s sick, Lora.” The arson investigator’s lips twisted.

“That’s what we’re dealing with here, Seth. I told you after the second kill—before Carter went into that fire—he’s setting us up. Getting us all to play his way.”

He frowned. “I checked. Those two—Langley and Hatchen—didn’t seem linked.”

The guy’s voice was gruff, and his shoulders couldn’t drop much more. The attitude was gone now, finally, so maybe they could get someplace. It sure looked like the arson investigator knew he was in over his head now. “But after Creed died, you knew what was happening, didn’t you?” Kenton asked.

“We all knew about that call.” Seth’s chin came up. “But there weren’t any more fires, everything seemed to stop after that, and I thought—”

“There have been two fires within the last few days.” Kenton stared him down. “Both claimed by the arsonist. I think it’s safe to say our boy is back in business.”

Seth exhaled. “Yeah, yeah… aw, Christ. I thought it was over!”

Kenton figured that it was just getting started. Two fires, so fast…

“What do you have on the vic?” Hyde demanded. “Cuffed to the radiator? That’s one hell of a way to go.”

He would have seen the flames coming at him. Probably nearly ripped his own wrist off trying to get free.

“D-dental records. The cops will have to ID him with dental records.”

No big surprise.

How is he picking the victims? The question was driving Kenton crazy. If he was going to link all the crimes, the victims would be the key. He needed Monica down there, yesterday.

Lora went back to pacing the perimeter. Part of the roof had fallen, a large chunk of wood and shingles. She bent down, inching along the remains of the tiled floor. “Ghost marks,” she whispered.

Kenton frowned. Ghost marks?

Lora glanced back up. “You can tell a liquid accelerant was used here because the gasoline bled under the tile.” She pointed to the stained outlines. “Like a ghost leaving a trail behind.”

“We already took samples, Lora,” Seth rushed to say.

“Glad to hear it,” she muttered and turned to head deeper into the hull of the house.

“That’s not too stable!” Seth lunged after her, his right leg sagging a bit behind him. “You need to—”

“I see something.”

Kenton crossed to her instantly, barely beating out the other guy.

“Small bag… looks like cocaine,” Lora said.

“It’s a drug house.” Seth bent toward her. “No big surprise—”

“The bag’s half-full…” She pulled it out, holding up the small, plastic bag. “That’s real unusual for a place like this.”

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.

Ash trickled down onto Lora’s shoulder. A small dusting, almost like a mist. Her fingers lifted, rubbing the darkness.

Another soft groan rose from those blackened walls.

Her gaze darted to the left, then up. She stared at the black lines above them. “I want you to move real fast, Kent, okay?”

Her voice was calm, but her eyes, when they slowly lowered to his, were glowing bright.

“Get to the door,” she told him as another groan burst from above them, louder this time. Much louder. Lora lunged toward him. “Get to the door!” A stark whisper.

Not without her. No way.

Kenton caught her arm and they shot forward. Not groans from the ceiling anymore. Screams.

Darkness, all around—no, ash. Falling. Covering him.

His fingers dug into her flesh, and he shoved her through the doorframe, slamming into her as he stumbled out on her heels.

They hit the cement. Hard. At the impact, the skin tore on his palms, and his chest rammed into her back.

But they got out—just before what was left of the second story crashed down on them.

Kenton choked on the dirt and dust filling his lungs. “Fuck.” He pushed up, feeling the cuts in his palm tear deeper. “Lora, you okay?” All he could see was the back of that silky hair. She rolled a bit, wincing as she turned toward him. Long red scratches marred her right cheek. Her face must have hit the cement.

“Yeah, I’m—” Lora coughed a bit. “I’m all right.”

He wanted to kiss her then because his heart was racing, and he was so damn glad they’d gotten out of there. He wanted to—

Kenton crashed his mouth onto hers and drove his tongue deep. He tasted. He took. And he wanted a hell of a lot more.

More he’d be getting, very, very soon.

Lora moaned into his mouth, a sweet, tempting little sound that had his cock twitching. She felt soft beneath him. Smooth muscles, silken flesh. And her mouth…

Her tongue swiped against his. Her lips pressed tight against his mouth. The woman knew how to make a man weak. And very, very hungry.

His mouth hardened on hers, and his tongue thrust deeper. Her fingers were against him, pressing lightly. Her body soft and close and—

More.

The demand echoed in his mind, but…

Not the fucking time.

Forcing his head to lift and his mouth to free hers, Kenton sucked in a hard breath. Lust and fury beat in his veins. “What the hell just happened? I thought that building had been cleared! The search teams had the okay to go in, it should have been stable—”

“It was stable.” Her lips were red from his mouth. Trembling.

They could have fucking died in there.

His heart slammed into his ribs.

“This place was checked, double-checked. It was secure.”

A rivulet of blood dripped down her cheek.

“Then what happened?” But the ice in his gut told him. Before she spoke, he knew—

“Someone had to come back and damage the structure. There was no reason for the upper floor to fall. It shouldn’t have given way.”

Unless someone had given the collapse a hand. Someone who knew the building’s weak spots.

Someone who might want to bury evidence.

And who’d almost buried an FBI agent and a firefighter.

Sonofabitch. Now the asshole was getting personal.