Deadly Heat (Deadly #2)(36)

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 *.”

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.”

True. “I want to catch the killer. Same as you.” He was about to get singed by that anger.

“Dammit, I–I know.” Lora’s gaze darted between him and Monica. “But your techniques are shit, got me?”

Loud and clear.

“It’s not my guys, or Amanda,” she said, and he knew she was talking about the other woman he’d seen in the workout room. “Look, Rick’s depressed—his wife left him and took the kids. Max is pissed. He’s just as angry as I am—and trust me, I’ve got a whole lot of anger—because he buried his friend. We’re all upset, all hurting because of what happened to Carter.”

“Is there any guy that’s a loner? Anyone who doesn’t join in—”