“So from now on, you’re to watch the crowds.” Kenton’s stare tracked back across the room. “Note the faces. The body language. If he lights a place, our guy is there. We’ll be doing searches of surrounding buildings. We’ll write down car tag numbers. We will find this guy.”

“Before he kills someone else?” Ah, now Pete was speaking up. He’d been scribbling down notes during the briefing, but now his pen was poised in the air. “Sounds to me like you’re already factoring in his next hit. We search the crowd after the fire. We canvass the area after. What are we gonna do before he strikes?” His eyes narrowed, and his handsome face hardened. “What are we gonna do so that we don’t have to ID another poor bastard by using his dental records?”

Now this was why she and Pete had dated once upon a time. He went after the bad guys. And he tried to keep the victims safe. The guy wasn’t perfect, but he was a good cop. One who’d just been thwarted by his boss.

No one ever wanted to admit the problem was too big. The brass at the Charlottesville PD sure hadn’t wanted to admit they might have a serial on their hands. Better to bury their heads, bury the dead, and hope the guy left town.

Stupid.

“We’ve got members of the SSD cross-referencing fires that resulted in fatalities in the area.” A muscle flexed along Kenton’s jaw. “We’re going to review the files in the county arson investigator’s office and see what connections we find.”

“The key in cases like this,” Davenport added in her smooth voice, “is finding an early crime. You need to see what set off the serial. What drove him to cross the line that first time. Finding an earlier case could lead us right to our killer’s identity.”

Now that would be something.

“And we’re working on victims.” Kenton pointed at Pete. “Malone, I want you manning a team and ripping through the lives of the vics. There’s a reason he picked those people. They weren’t random—”

“They rarely are,” Davenport agreed.

“When we find the connection between them, we’ve got another piece of the puzzle. Another clue to finding him.”

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Sounded better than just sitting on their asses.

“But if there is another fire…” Kenton began.

“He means when,” Max said. Lora drove her elbow into his side. Straight into solid muscle.

“Then you need to be on your guard.” Kenton paused. “Because I think he likes playing with you.” He meant the firefighters, all of them, right? But he was looking only at her. “He’s getting personal. He took one of yours down. You have to stay on guard because he’s drawing you into his game.”

His sick, twisted game. “All right.” Kenton clapped his hands together. “Team leaders will stay to get their orders. Stay sharp, people. There’s a perp out there, playing in your town, and you’ve got to be ready for him. Twenty-four seven, be ready.”

“You heard the man!” Police Captain Jason Lawrence finally stepped up. Jerk. He should have stepped up long ago. He should have been the one to call the SSD. “We’re hunting this perp—we’re stopping him.” The perp he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. But now, his beady eyes were bright with excitement, even if his forehead was showing more than a trickle of sweat.

“He’s gotten a taste of blood, and he’s going to want more.” Davenport touched the pictures of the victims. First Jennifer. Tom Hatchen. Charlie Skofield. Carter.

Christ. Carter. Smiling. Wearing his fireman’s helmet. Handsome. Young. Alive.

Not anymore.

“Good job, Spade.” She glanced up at Chief Garrison’s gruff voice. His green eyes glinted at her.

“Sir, I didn’t—”

He caught her hand and pulled her to the side as the others filed out. “Glad you called ’em in. If you hadn’t, I would have.”

Her gaze darted to the line of uniforms filing out. “I was tired of seeing bodies.”

“Me, too.” His broad shoulders, football shoulders, rose and fell. “And I don’t like burying my men.”

Her chin came up. “No, sir, that f**king sucks.”

She caught his stare as it raked her face. Since Carter’s death, even the chief had been going easy on her, and the guy with the nickname of Grizzly wasn’t supposed to go easy on anyone.

“You okay working with those agents?”

She nodded.

He leaned in close. “Get ’im, Spade. Burn the bastard.”

Then he was gone, heading toward the group of firefighters waiting near the exit.

“Lora, you comin’?” Max called out. Pete and Seth were huddled behind him, talking fast. “We’re heading to Mickey’s.”

Probably to blow off steam. “No, I—”

“I need to brief her.” Kenton caught her arm. “Now.”

Max’s brows rose. “Uh, okay.” Surprise flashed over the hard lines and angles of his face.

Then Kenton pushed her in the office to the right. He slammed the door behind them, and she forgot about Max.

“You’ve still got blood on you.”

Ah, yeah, so she wasn’t pristine. “No time to change.” The guy might carry spare suits around with him, but she didn’t. “Not like I could—”

He kissed her. Drove those sexy lips right on hers and plunged his tongue deep.

Well damn.

Her fingers rose and clamped around his shoulders. Because she was tall, they stood almost chest to chest. Almost. Lora rose on her toes, held him tighter, and felt the heat from the hard ridge of his c**k press against her.

Wow. No pity there. Need. Lust. Passion.

Pleasure.

Give me what I need. He could. She knew it. Lora sucked his tongue, pressed harder against him, and heard the growl in his throat. He liked that. Then he’d sure love everything else she’d do to him.

His hands locked on her ass. Curled and pulled her against the swell of his cock.

No mistaking that arousal.

Or her own. Because Lora knew her panties were getting wet. A dozen cops within shouting distance, and she wanted sex. Right now.

His tongue swiped against hers, and her ni**les pebbled.

Right now.

Her fingers dug into his upper arms, urging him closer. Needing more.

His mouth tore from hers.

Dammit, she’d been enjoying—

His lips pressed against her neck. Right under her ear. Her weak spot. Oh, Christ.




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