Deadly Heat (Deadly #2)(34)

Lora shoved by Kenton. “Screw off, GQ.”

He grabbed her, hands too tight, and spun her back around. “Lora, it’s procedure,” he gritted out. “I know you’re clear, but the questions have to be asked, and they have to answered, for the record.”

He knew she was clear. That was something, but what about Garrison?

“Ahem.” The chief slammed one ham hand onto Kenton’s shoulder. “Something I should know about here?”

“Yes, sir.” Lora glanced his way. Not the chief. “I had sex with Agent Lake last night. Full disclosure.”

“Lora—” Kenton’s brows shot up. “What the hell—”

“Damn, Spade, I thought you had better taste.” The chief released him and stalked out of the room. “Much better.” He threw the words over his shoulder.

Lora bared her teeth at Kenton. “Me, too.” Then she turned and marched right out after Garrison.


Max Quint slapped his palms down on the table. “Let’s get this shit over with. What do you need? Alibis? Witnesses?” His bushy blond brows rose. “I was working with the team when Charlie Skofield died. I was here when the call came in, surrounded by a dozen men—and Lora. I didn’t set that damn fire, I wouldn’t hurt any of my—”

“Why did you become a firefighter?” Monica asked, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. She had her files already stacked in front of her. That was Monica. Always calm and always organized.

Let’s see what secrets you have.

Monica was good at finding secrets. And hiding her own.

“Huh?” Quint rocked back on the rear legs of the chair. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Monica smiled her harmless smile. The cold one. But then, she didn’t really have a warm one. Not like Lora did—warm enough to singe a man. “Just answer the question.”

He smiled back with a lot of teeth. “I’m an adrenaline junkie. What can I say?” He raised his hands and spread them wide. “I like the thrill of fighting fires.”

Lie. Sure, Kenton knew some fire eaters did the job because they liked the rush, but Max was too cocky right then. The guy just seemed to be putting on a show for them and saying what he thought they wanted to hear.

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?”