Deadly Heat (Deadly #2)(67)

“He wasn’t a planned vic, not like the others.” Kenton’s words came faster. “Phoenix didn’t have time to waste on him. He couldn’t pick the right moment. He had to act.”

The right moment?

“Changed his pattern,” he muttered, and Lora didn’t think the guy was really talking to her then. More to himself.

“You shift up rotations, right?” Kenton fired at her.

Lora nodded. “Every few days.”

“You even said it, when Monica and I—” He broke off, but she helpfully supplied…

“When you two had me stuck in that interrogation?”

“You had alibis, remember? That’s what you told me, because you were working every shift.” Kenton jumped out of bed.

Her brows rose as her eyes dropped to his ass. He had a really nice ass.

But then Kenton yanked on his pants.

Ah, well.

Lora didn’t bother getting dressed. She just watched him. He was pacing, a lot. The guy was on to something.

“It was right f*cking in front of me, and I didn’t see it.”

“What was in front of you?”

He whirled to face her. “You.”

She was really not liking the sound of that.

“You’re the connection, Lora. Seth was right. You’re the link in all this.”

“There’s no way! I didn’t even know who those other vics were.”

“There’s something about you.” His eyes narrowed in an assessing stare. “Something that’s tying you to this guy. To these fires.” He stepped closer. “There’s no coincidence with perps like this. There never is. The pattern—it was your shift. He set those fires when you were working. There’s gotta be a reason for it.”

Her palms pressed into the bed. She didn’t like this. Didn’t like where this was heading, not at all.

But Kenton had his phone out and was punching in numbers with fast swipes of his fingers. Who was he calling this late?

“Hey—it’s Lake. That search we’ve been running? See if you can link the vics back to Lora Spade.”

Chillbumps rose on her arms.

“Yeah, that’s right. The firefighter.”

No, no, this didn’t make sense.

“I need this ASAP, man. Fuck, I need it yesterday.”

She pulled up the sheet, slowly, to cover her breasts. Lora thought about the fires. The bodies.

The victims she hadn’t been able to save—the ones that haunted her.

And she thought about the games that killers could play.

Such twisted, sick games.





CHAPTER Thirteen


A pounding woke Lora the next morning. A pounding loud enough to have her groaning and shoving up in bed.

Then she realized, damn fast, that she wasn’t in her bed.

Smoke.

Flames.

Phoenix.

She was still naked. Lora scrambled, finding her shorts and her top, yanking them on just as Kenton opened the bathroom door.

Oh, he would be fully dressed.

His gaze found her and seemed to heat.

“Um… you expecting company?” Her voice came out husky. Jeez, what time was it? Seven A.M.? Had she managed to get a whole two and a half hours of sleep?

Kenton shook his head before he hurried across the room and checked through the peephole. His shoulders stiffened, but he opened the door.

Lora shoved back her hair and lifted her chin.

“Morning, sunshine.” The rumbling voice of the other agent, Ramirez, reached her easily. He shouldered past Kenton, a brown bag in his hands. When he caught sight of her, standing next to the rumpled bed—didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d done last night—one black brow rose. “Lora.” He rolled the L on her name, let it go long and deep.

The agent’s gaze raked over her.

“Watch it.” Kenton’s snarled order came right at the same time as her— “Eyes up, buddy. Up.” She needed clothes. Clothing was definitely priority number one.

Ramirez grinned at her, his lips stretching in a slow smile. “You are so wasted on him.” The guy took a step closer. “I brought you a present.”

She wasn’t too sure she wanted anything from him.

“Go on. It won’t bite.” He lifted the bag.

But you might.

Kenton snatched the bag from him and peered inside.

“See, I can be thoughtful.”

“What you can be is a pain in the ass.” Kenton tossed the bag to her. “Some clothes.”

Yes.

That grin still lightened Ramirez’s otherwise scary visage. But really, that guy—he didn’t seem the grinning type. Dark. Dangerous. Deadly. Like a fire ready to rage.

“They might smell like smoke, but I figured it was better than nothing.” Again his eyes skated over her. “Then again…”

“Do you want me to kick your ass?” Kenton asked quietly, and there was no hint of humor on his face or in his voice.

Ramirez just shrugged. “You can try.”

“Ease up, boys,” she ordered, shooting a hard stare at them both.

“Yes, ma’am.” From Ramirez.

The guy was obviously trying to piss off Kenton. His attack was also quite obviously working.