by Debra Cowan
He could read nothing in the midnight-soft voice. He wondered what she was thinking, then asked himself why he cared. "It's my job."
She crossed her arms, putting an invisible wall between them. "You're right. Firefighters can move into investigation whenever they pass the tests. I wasn't sure until then that I wanted to be a fire cop."
There was a story there; he could read it in the way her eyes shuttered against him. That old familiar itch to solve a puzzle, dig out every secret kicked in.
What kind of training had she had? From what he remembered, there were no formal courses for fire investigation offered at their local universities, just on-the-job training. Jack found himself wanting to ask Terra questions that had no direct bearing on the case, only on her. The realization irritated him as did the anticipation thrumming in his blood. He felt as if he were losing his focus and his voice came out hard.
"Is there anyone else who could be jealous of you seeing Mr. Vaughn?"
She stiffened. "I already told you about Cecily."
She still looked a little disoriented. Again, he felt the same clench in his gut that he'd felt upon seeing her so torn up at the crime scene. He knew this had to be hard on her, but didn't think she would appreciate the observation.
"I meant whoever you're seeing." For some reason, he really wanted to know who that man was. Jack fingered the velvet-soft petals of the rose nearest him. "Like whoever gave you these flowers."
Her gaze skipped away and she rubbed at a spot just below her collarbone. Jack found his gaze trailing down the sweet line of her neck, the hollow in her throat where her pulse fluttered softly.
"I don't know who those are from. I've got a…secret admirer."
"A secret admirer?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. "These aren't from someone you're dating?"
"I'm not dating anyone at the moment."
He ignored the sharp jab of adrenalin that hit his system. "So you can't think of anyone who might be upset by your seeing too much of Harris Vaughn?"
"No."
"What about your ex-husband, Keith Garcia?"
"Only if it interfered with something he wanted to do."
Whoa, he'd hit a nerve there. "How long have you been divorced?"
"Two years. As if you didn't know."
He wondered if her quiet anger was due to pain over the breakup of her marriage or his blatant digging into her past.
"That's a long time to go without dating." Not that he had any room to talk.
"I didn't say I hadn't dated," she responded coolly. "Just that I wasn't dating anyone now."
A grin tugged at his lips. "Did your relationship with Vaughn have anything to do with your marriage breaking up?"
"No."
Her curt answer indicated that was all he'd get on the subject. Good thing he believed her. "Any ideas about the identity of your secret admirer?"
"I think it's one of the local news reporters. I figure if I ignore him, he'll eventually give up."
Shifting his weight to the other foot, Jack squashed an unexpected—and unwanted—flare of jealousy. Maybe her divorce had been caused by Garcia's having another woman. Or if not, could their breakup have been related to the dangers of her job?
He supposed some men might find a woman exciting who battled fire, who risked her life, but Jack didn't. Women in perilous jobs were as unappealing to him as working as a crossing guard.
He didn't have a problem with women in dangerous jobs—combat, police work, fire fighting. He just had a problem with his woman being in such a line of work. His wife's job had seemed low-risk and she'd been gunned down by a pissed-off social work client. Since her death, his work had been his world. Not much penetrated, but Terra August certainly had.
"What about you, Detective?"
"What about me?" He stuffed his notebook into the inside pocket of his khaki jacket.
"Are you dating anyone?"
Sliding his hands into the pockets of his navy slacks, he arched a brow. He was the one who asked the questions.
"Not married, are you?"
This was a job, not The Dating Game. Jaw tight, his gaze locked with hers. "I'm heading over to talk to Cecily Vaughn. Are you coming?"
Her gaze measured him, sending a lick of fire through his belly. She tucked her hair behind her ears, the movement stretching the red sweater taut across her lush breasts.
Jack looked away, trying to ignore the way his body hardened from his shoulders to his calves.
She walked around the desk toward him. "Before I left the burn site, I picked up the videotape."
"Of the scene?" He opened the door, then followed her out. As his mother would say, Terra August was a handful.
"Yes, inside and out. Also the ones from the other three fires. An arsonist almost always returns to the scene."
"Wants to see what he's done?"
"Yes."
Again he caught a faint whiff of smoke, overlaid by the clean sweetness of her skin. His pulse drummed low and hard. Clenching a fist, he tried to stem the awareness shifting through him. "I'd like to watch those tapes with you later."
"Sure."
Her agreement came readily enough, but he sensed the same reticence he'd had all during his visit. Maybe it was due to the wariness that had clouded her eyes since he'd first met her. And maybe he was imagining things. Hell, his mind had certainly worked overtime doing just that since he'd met her.
That had to stop. Now. The only reason his awareness of her was a big deal was because she was the first woman he'd given more than passing attention to in three years. And more important, because Terra August represented everything he didn't want.
Forget those are-you-man-enough eyes and killer lips. The woman chased fire for a living. No thanks. No way. No how.
Chapter 3
No man had ever made Terra's head spin. It was spinning now. Jack Spencer looked at her as if he wanted to get inside her head, inside her.
His penetrating, midnight-blue gaze gave her the same spine zap she got at a fire. Except she understood fire. She did not understand this at all. When she'd taken off her turnout coat and caught his gaze on her breasts, a sizzling awareness of him, of her own body, had hit her fast and hard. The force and heat of it exploded like a fire that had fed for hours.
At the crime scene, she'd been too numb to register anything except shock and grief, but she did so now. During the ride to Cecily's, sitting only a foot away from the hollow-eyed cop, Terra had to admit Jack affected her. Even Keith had never gotten to her like this.
She breathed in the scent of clean male, a tang of aftershave. His heat settled over her like a second skin. She gripped the armrest, fighting to push away the thoughts. She should be thinking about Cecily and the questions she needed to ask, but this guy crowded out everything else.
Her gaze followed the slant of streetlight across a chiseled jaw and cheekbone. Huge hands palmed the steering wheel and Terra felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach.
She and Keith had enjoyed good sex and wonderful intimacy, but getting there had been a process. Two years of distance and resentment about her job had whittled away the closeness of their marriage. Since the divorce, she hadn't come close to wanting that again. Wanting, period. She'd learned she couldn't trust what she thought she knew, who she thought she knew. Which meant she absolutely couldn't trust this quick flare of attraction.
She'd never been this curious about a man. Or this aware. She wanted to know whether the shoulders beneath Jack's khaki jacket were as broad as they appeared to be, whether the thighs covered by neat navy slacks were as powerful as his stride hinted as they walked from the car to Cecily's door.
His not answering the personal questions she'd lobbed earlier only made her want to figure him out the same way she figured out the burn path of a fire.
Whether or not he was married was none of her business and it bothered her to admit it, but she hadn't stopped wondering about that either. The desire to know more was like an itc
h she couldn't reach.
Whatever a woman had with him wouldn't be casual and probably not brief. Harris and Granddad had always urged her to listen to her instincts. Right now those instincts screamed at her to nip this fascination with Jack in the bud, and focus on finding the arsonist and whoever had murdered Harris.
Jack Spencer was the man who could help her do that. She couldn't, wouldn't, let things get personal between them. Do your job. Keith had always said she did that to the exclusion of everything else. She wondered if Jack Spencer would feel the same.
Telling herself to knock it off, Terra slid her gaze to the tall man standing beside her on Cecily Vaughn's sweeping porch.
Jack jabbed the doorbell button, shoving his other hand through his thick, seal-brown hair. While darkness edged the sides of the house, light glowing from fixtures flanking the door highlighted the whisker stubble that shadowed his jaw, giving him a rumpled, dangerously sexy look. A woman would have a hard time resisting him when the lights went out. She knew she would have a hard time.
She had an investigation to run and information about Jack Spencer was not pertinent to that. She needed to think about the coming interview with Harris's ex. "I need to warn you, Cecily probably won't be too happy to see me."
Jack slanted her a look just as the door opened.
Cecily Vaughn, wrapped in a candy-pink peignoir, stared dully at Terra and Jack for a moment. Her unfocused brown gaze told Terra the woman was still under the influence of the sedative Jack said she'd taken earlier.
Pulling together the thin edges of her robe, Cecily's gaze registered recognition. "I guess I should've expected you."
"I'm sorry we have to meet again under these circumstances, Cecily." Terra's throat tightened as a fresh wave of pain rolled through her. Shoot, she couldn't lose it now.
Jack stepped into the pool of light, flashing his badge. "My condolences, Ms. Vaughn. I'm Detective Spencer and we need to ask you a few questions."
She studied his badge for a moment, then cut her gaze to Terra. "Is she with you? Is that allowed?"
"Yes, ma'am. Investigator August is working this case with me, so her being here is perfectly legal. And expected," he added.
"Remember that Harris used to work with the police from time to time?" Terra asked quietly.
The other woman's stare flattened, but she stepped back to allow them grudging access. Her filmy pink robe trailing, she led them into a small, formal sitting area with matching moire Queen Anne love seats and a high-sheen cherrywood coffee table. She stopped behind one of the love seats, her long manicured nails curving onto the muted tan-and-black striped fabric. "How did the fire start?"
"We're not sure yet," Jack answered.
Dark shadows ringed Cecily's eyes. Her usually flawless makeup couldn't hide her wan skin or the tight lines around her mouth. She looked at Terra. "Maybe that's where you need to be."
Terra told herself the woman was upset. Who wouldn't be? For the moment, she let Jack take the lead. Cecily was on the edge. Easing into asking questions of her own seemed the best idea to Terra.
Jack flipped open his small notebook. "Harris Vaughn was your ex-husband?"
"Yes."
"How long were you divorced?"
"Six months."
"Any children?"
Terra noted that Jack kept his voice low and soothing. Evidently he had plenty of practice with distraught people. She wondered how long he'd been a detective.
"No children." Tears welled in Cecily's heavily made-up eyes and she grabbed a tissue from a box on the glass-topped end table next to the love seat.
Jack gave her a minute before continuing in the same soft tone. "When was the last time you saw him?"
"A week ago Sunday. Our divorce was final and I wanted to talk to him."
"About getting back together?"
"Yes."
"Did you see him here?"
"At his house." She dabbed her eyes again with the tissue.
Terra planned to confirm that with Harris's neighbors. Edging a step away from Jack and the power he exuded like heat, she asked, "Did he indicate he was worried or upset about anything?"
Cecily stared at her flatly. "He was upset about our divorce."
Anger streamed through her, but Terra reminded herself that staying calm was the only way she and Jack would get anywhere. She focused her gaze on Cecily's diamond ring, a huge butterfly. Terra had never liked that ring. It was gaudy.
"Ms. Vaughn?" Jack drew Cecily's attention back to himself. "Was there anything else that might have upset him?"
"He really didn't talk to me about other things," she answered with a meaningful look at Terra.
"Do you know anyone he'd argued with or might've been angry with? Did he talk about anything like that?"
"No."
"He never mentioned any enemies at all? Anyone who may have threatened him or had a reason to harm him?"
Cecily frowned, crumpling the tissue in nervous hands. "Wasn't this fire an accident? What's going on?" She seemed to struggle to focus, her gaze bobbing from Terra to Jack. "Are you a homicide detective?"
"I do investigate homicides."
"Was he murdered?" she shrieked.
"Ma'am, please try to stay calm." Jack stepped around the love seat toward Cecily.
Despite her feelings about Harris's ex, Terra's heart ached for the agony she read in the woman's eyes. "Cecily, can I get you something?"
Hatred flashed across her face and she pushed past Jack to stalk around the love seat toward Terra. "He told me he was helping you on a case. That's why he's dead, isn't it? It's your fault."
"Ma'am." Before Terra even saw him move, Jack planted himself in front of Cecily, his face and voice stern. "We don't know that Ms. August's job has anything to do with this."
"I do." She glared, stepping around him. "Harris wouldn't be my ex if it weren't for you, Terra. He wouldn't be dead if it weren't for you, because he would've been with me. All I ever wanted was to take care of him."
There was a difference between taking care of someone and smothering them, Terra thought. "Cecily, I didn't come here to upset you. We're trying to find out who would do this to Harris."
"My marriage was fine until he started spending so much time with you." She poked a finger in Terra's chest.
Fury erupted, but Terra stepped back, fighting to rein in the hurt and anger crashing through her. Her hands curled into fists. "Don't do that again, Cecily."
Jack firmly gripped the woman's elbow. "Ms. Vaughn, please try and calm down."
"You're the reason he left me in the first place." The woman's voice rose high and brittle with anger.
Terra wasn't going to be drawn into an argument, but she let out a sigh of relief when Jack guided Cecily to the love seat. "Here, take a seat. Let me get you a glass of water or something."
"No." She glared through her tears at Terra.
He studied her for a moment, then walked over to Terra. Keeping his back to Cecily, he pitched his voice low. "How do you want to play this?"
His shoulder brushed hers, sparking an unexpected warmth. She forced herself to read his eyes, appreciating the earnestness in the blue depths. "I don't want her calling a lawyer. I'll wait for you outside."
"You don't have to."
"It's for the best. She'll talk to you. I'm only upsetting her."
"You sure?"
"Yes." She kept her voice low, her stomach knotting at the sound of Cecily's sobs. Terra felt like doing the same thing. The whole situation was horrible enough. Antagonizing Harris's ex would only prolong things.
She moved toward the door.
"Where's she going?" Cecily demanded.
"Outside—"
Terra closed the door on Jack's soothing tone. As she made her way down the sidewalk toward his pickup truck, anger at Cecily and whoever had killed Harris burned through Terra. She paced from the hood of the blue pickup to the tailgate.
She had to calm down, shake it off. Leaving Cecily's
house was the best thing for the investigation. Terra would be no good to anyone if she were angry. After a few minutes, her anger subsided. The cool night air skipped over her, raising goose bumps on her arms.
She hugged herself against the chill.
Crossing her arms, she walked the sidewalk to the end of the block, then back. She hoped Jack was getting somewhere with Cecily.
A sudden vibration at her hip had Terra grabbing for the cell phone clipped there. "August."
"Hey, it's me." Robin Daly's normally sunny voice was subdued. "How are you doing today?"
"Okay." Terra leaned against the truck's door, grateful for such a good friend.
"Did you eat?"
"Yes, Mom." Terra laughed, though she couldn't remember how long ago she'd finished the cheese and crackers she'd grabbed on her way to the office earlier that day.
"Were you able to stop by your place and shower?"
"Yes. I was at the office until just a while ago."
"I'm off duty and so is Meredith. She doesn't have to be back at the hospital until tomorrow night. Want to meet us for dinner?"
"I wish I could, but I'm still working." She, Robin and Meredith Boren had been friends since both the other girls had moved to Presley in junior high. "I came over to interview Harris's ex."
"Ugh. How's that going?"
"I'm outside and she's inside. What does that tell you?"
"So, who's interviewing her?"
"Jack Spencer."
"You're with Detective Yummy?" Robin squeaked.
It wasn't her friend's incredulity, but the nickname, that had Terra grinning. "Detective Yummy? I guess I can see that."
"I should hope so, since you're female and still breathing. Well, well, no wonder you don't want to meet your two best friends for dinner."
"Hardly." Terra would rather be with them. She knew what to expect from the two women who'd been her closest friends since eighth grade, who'd seen her through the deaths of her parents and her grandfather, and had been there for her immediately upon hearing about Harris last night.
"…pretty sad."
"What's that?" Terra snapped back to Robin's conversation.
"His wife. She was murdered by one of her social work cases."
