by Debra Cowan
He tugged on the hem of her coat, drawing her marginally closer. "Yes."
"Do not leave here without letting the paramedics check you out." She motioned over one of the guys watching from the street.
"Sure. Whatever." His gaze softened and he squeezed her hand hard. His eyes promised later.
"There's my sister." He pointed to a white minivan that stopped two driveways down. "I'm glad I returned my brother-in-law's car tonight instead of waiting."
"No kidding. I'll call you about the fire as soon as I know something."
"I managed to save my cell phone, and my sister's in the book."
"All right."
He squeezed her hand one last time and ducked under the crime scene tape, following the paramedic over to his ambulance.
Terra watched him, struggling to level her racing heart. Seeing him in the middle of the sodden yard, surrounded by arson remains had jammed her breath painfully under her ribs. Thank goodness he hadn't been hurt. Or worse. Jack's close brush with death brought home just how much he'd come to mean to her. He was right to go slow with their relationship, but she was definitely interested in exploring the feelings between them. She'd make sure he knew that.
Her throat burned with sudden tears, but she fought them back. She had work to do. She was going to find out who'd torched Jack's house, and why.
* * *
Sitting at his desk the next morning, Jack felt like hell, inside and out. His throat was as raw as scalded flesh and his chest hurt from coughing all night, but he knew it could've been a lot worse. So far, he had exhibited none of the symptoms of smoke inhalation that the E.M.T. had described.
He'd spoken to his parents briefly last night, then for about half an hour this morning. Two hours with his sister had netted him a place to live until the repairs were finished at his house. Plenty of work stacked his desk, but Jack's thoughts were squarely on last night's fire.
Since being jerked awake by crashing glass right before midnight, a cold fury had settled inside him. He hoped Terra's investigation yielded a good jumping-off place to start tracking the S.O.B. who'd started the fire at his house, but it didn't matter. Jack would find whoever had done it. If it had been Reynolds, the reporter would need reconstructive surgery before he ever got back on the air.
Had last night been some kind of prank? Or had Jack been targeted by some do-wrong he'd put away in the past? He hung up from the Department of Corrections. None of his collars had been released recently and he hadn't received any threats lately. Besides this homicide investigation with Terra, Jack had three more open cases on his desk, but carjackers and sex pervs typically didn't send threats to the investigating detective.
Knowing he'd need more information before he closed in on the slimeball who'd tried to kill him, Jack decided to continue his check of Don LeBass. Terra's information that LeBass had received another negative assessment from Harris Vaughn just two weeks before the retired fire investigator's murder was reason enough to return to Harris's neighborhood and see if anyone recognized LeBass.
Just after ten-thirty, Jack arrived at the quiet residential section where the fall-splashed beauty was marred only by the blackened remains of Harris's house. Jack had cut out a picture of LeBass from this morning's newspaper article about the fire last night and he wanted to see if anyone recognized it. Since the photo was considered public domain, Jack could show it to whomever he wanted.
Forty-five minutes later, the widow in the house across the street from Harris gave Jack a sweet piece of information. Hoping to get more, he continued to interview the neighbors and had just finished the houses on one side of the street when his cell phone rang.
He recognized Terra's office number on the readout. "Hey, you." His voice was still raspy from smoke. "What's going on?"
"Could you please come to my office?"
"Sure, I'm almost finished with my canvass of Harris's neighborhood—"
"Could you come right now?"
The eerie stillness of her voice made the hairs on his neck stand up. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
He used his siren and reached the old brick building inside of ten minutes. What had happened to put that grim, flat note in her voice?
Darla looked up from her computer when he walked in. "Go on back. She's waiting for you."
"Thanks." His gaze shifted to the window of Terra's office. She stood with her back to him, looking down at something on her desk. Her body was rigid, her hair gathered up in a loose ponytail. His shoulders tensed. What was going on? Trouble with the mayor? The investigation?
He stepped into her office and saw the burst of fresh color in the middle of her desk. Red roses.
She looked up, her gaze dark and troubled.
"What is it?"
"You got here fast."
"I've never heard you like that." She'd sounded shaken, off balance.
She carefully held out a piece of paper and he noticed the latex gloves she wore.
A hard slam of certainty told Jack that it was from the arsonist. Fishing his own pair of gloves out of his jacket pocket, he pulled them on before he took the note. "The Molotovs were a nice change of pace, weren't they?" he read aloud, his gaze meeting hers. "So, it was definitely Molotov cocktails. And it was our serial arsonist."
"That seems to be the claim."
"But Molotovs aren't—"
"I know. There was no lightbulb plant. You weren't drugged. The pattern doesn't match, but an arsonist's main craving is fire. And this torch is obviously sending a message."
"Why me?"
"Because we're getting close."
"I wish we knew who we were close to. Cecily, Reynolds, LeBass. Or someone else."
She nodded, her features pale and tight.
"If it is Reynolds, he's got brass ones for showing up at my house right after he did this."
"Think about it, Jack." Her gaze locked on his. "The arsonist knows where you live."
He laid down the note before he crumpled it in his fist. "That means he or she has been watching other places in addition to fire scenes."
"Watching one or both of us."
A hot wave of protectiveness surged through him. "I went straight home from your place last night. They were either watching your house when I picked you up or when we returned from dinner."
She nodded, gripping the edge of her desk until her knuckles gleamed white. Her eyes glowed in her face like hot stones.
He cursed. The icy rage that had settled in his chest since last night grew sharper. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. We have to catch this torch." Fury made her voice as brittle as his. "And fast."
He didn't have to tell her they were working as fast as they could. She knew. But it reminded him of what he'd been doing when she called. Just as he started to tell her about the information he'd learned from Harris's neighbor, an irate voice boomed behind them.
He and Terra turned at the same time. Don LeBass marched toward them, his face florid with anger.
Darla jumped out of her seat and hurried behind the fireman. "I said you have to wait for her. She's busy—"
"She'll see me." LeBass stopped at Terra's door, his eyes flashing. He barely looked at Jack. "What the hell do you think you're doing, August?"
"What's this about?" Jack asked.
"It don't concern you." The burly fireman stabbed a finger toward Terra. "You been asking questions about me. I wanna know why."
Jack shifted until he stood partially in front of Terra. "Stop yelling."
"What's the matter, Ace? Can't find your arsonist so you're looking to hurt me?"
"Hardly, LeBass. I only wanted to know why you worked with Station Two last night."
"Ray Emery had to go to the Emergency Room with kidney stones. He called me from there and asked if I'd work his shift."
"I'm sure your friend will back up your story."
"Hell, yes. Why is it any of your business?"
"I didn't like seeing you at my house last night
," Jack put in.
The fireman drew up short. "I put out that damn fire and this is the thanks I get?"
"I wanted to be sure you didn't start it."
"Start it! Why the hell would I do that?"
Jack decided to see what kind of reaction he could surprise out of LeBass. "We just found out you applied to the O.C.F.D. for a fire investigator's position and Harris Vaughn gave you a negative assessment."
"This is about Vaughn?"
"Isn't it true that you got those results about a week before his murder?"
"You think I'd kill him because of that?"
"Weren't you furious?" Terra asked.
"Yes, but I wouldn't kill anybody."
"Hadn't Harris given you two negative assessments over the years?" Jack watched the man carefully.
LeBass clamped his mouth shut, glaring at Terra.
So far the fireman hadn't let anything slip, but Jack had one more tidbit. "I have a witness who saw you at Harris's house the night of the arson and murder."
Beside him, he felt Terra start, but he didn't take his gaze from the other man's face.
LeBass stilled and panic flared in his eyes. "I went there to talk to him about the assessment. See if I could get him to change his mind."
"How far were you willing to go?" Terra asked.
"Not that far."
"If you did it, LeBass, we'll prove it," she said.
"So what if I was there? You can't prove I didn't go just to talk to him. He wasn't even there so I never saw him that night."
"Where did you go after that? Looking for him?" Jack asked.
"I went home. I was there the rest of the night."
Terra gave an exasperated sigh. Jack was getting as frustrated as she by these "home all night" alibis. "You know we'll check that out."
"Go ahead."
"When was the last time you saw him?" Jack asked.
"If you want to know anything else, talk to my lawyer." His hateful gaze drilled into Terra. "Do your job, Ace, and stop wasting time on me."
With a final glare, he stormed out.
Jack waited until the front door closed behind the fireman. He turned to Terra, glad to see a bit of color high on her cheekbones. "You all right?"
"Yes." She huffed out a breath, looking tired and wan.
"Sorry. I didn't have time to brief you about what I learned during my canvass this morning. The widow who lives across the street from Harris told me she saw LeBass the night of the fire."
Terra frowned. "How did she know it was LeBass? Did she describe him?"
"I showed her the picture of LeBass that was in the newspaper."
"A picture?"
"It was in this morning's edition with the caption Firefighters Save Cop's House or some rot. Sure made LeBass nervous."
"Still, he's right. We can't prove why he went to Harris's."
"We may not have to."
"Yeah." She crossed her arms, her mouth tightening. "We're just going around in circles, Jack."
"No, we're not. We're weeding through things. We'll get this torch."
She was quiet for a long moment and when she looked up, tears brightened her eyes. "What if you'd been killed last night? What if you hadn't gotten out?"
"Hey, I did get out." He nudged her chin up with one finger. "I'm okay. Don't I look okay?"
She smiled tremulously. "You look great."
"Well, there ya go."
Terra dabbed at her eyes. "Sorry about that. It just kind of hit me all at once."
"No problem." He cupped the side of her face, stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. "Does this mean you're still interested? In us?"
"Very interested." She closed her fingers around his wrist. "You haven't changed your mind, have you?"
"Not a chance. Want to go out with me tonight?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"There's a dinner dance for outgoing District Attorney Gibson. I have to make an appearance."
"Sure, I'd love to."
"Great. I'll pick you up at seven-fifteen. The dress is 'after-five.'"
She nodded. "I'll be ready."
"We're not going to talk business all night, either," he warned.
"All right."
He wanted to kiss her, but he was aware that Darla looked on. Turning, he picked up the note that had been delivered with the roses and put it in an evidence bag he fished from his jacket pocket. "I'll take these things to the lab, see if I can get any prints. Then I'm going to visit this florist and see if I can get a description of who ordered the flowers."
"I'll see you tonight. I'm looking forward to it."
"Same here."
The smile she gave him hinted at a secret, flicked his nerve endings to heated life. He carefully picked up the vase of roses and started out the door, but that smile demanded he do something. Hell, he didn't care if Darla was watching. He stopped. Turned.
Terra moved up beside him. "Everything okay?"
He leaned over and kissed her softly. Her lips parted in surprise, then invitation. Leaning into him, she lifted one hand to his chest.
Jack's grip tightened on the glass vase. He pulled back and winked. "Now it is."
She gave him a slow smile, promises smoldering in her green eyes. His body hardened and he strode out of the room. Hell, he didn't know how he'd last until tonight.
He walked past the secretary's desk. "See ya, Darla."
She grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.
He chuckled.
Chapter 11
Silverware clinked against china as the last of the dinner dishes were cleared away by waiters and waitresses in crisp black suits and white shirts. This was the first time Terra had been to the Cowboy Hall of Fame since the name had changed to the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum. This banquet room, called the Special Events Center, looked fantastic.
A live band in a far corner started a medley of dance tunes. Soft light showered over the round table for eight where Terra and Jack sat. People at dozens of the same linen-covered tables surrounded them.
She politely listened to the female attorney on her left, but her thoughts were on the sexy homicide detective who draped his arm loosely across the back of her chair.
Jack Spencer had gotten under her skin, managed to erode her stubborn resistance to another relationship. If she needed any proof, it was in the cold panic that had knifed through her heart last night when she'd been paged to the fire at his house. And the fact that his presence had calmed her nerves today after she'd received the chilling note from the arsonist along with the now expected roses.
The fear that had clutched at her upon realizing the serial arsonist had been watching them—stalking them—had since turned to anger. The arsonist might have watched Jack or her this afternoon. Could be watching even now during the black-tie dinner dance.
Her gaze cut through the throng of people in front of her and scanned the magnificent oversized banquet room. Several reporters and cameramen lined the back wall where one of five giant, three-piece paintings of Western landscapes at sunset hung.
Bright camera bulbs overpowered the soft fall of light from the chandeliers overhead. The D.A., who'd given a farewell speech during dessert, stopped to have a few words with each reporter.
Terra didn't know whether to be grateful or suspicious that Dane Reynolds wasn't among those covering the dinner. Was the reporter on another assignment? Or was he somewhere watching them? They had no proof he was the arsonist, but too many things about him didn't add up.
The fire at Jack's was a plain warning that they were closing in on the arsonist, but who were they closing in on? Jack was looking hard at Reynolds, but LeBass couldn't prove where he'd been the night of Harris's murder, just as Cecily Vaughn couldn't, either.
As Terra responded to the attorney's questions about her job, Jack's easy, frequent touch drove all thoughts of the investigation to the back of her mind. During the drive down to the museum, he had brought her up to speed on the case. Sin
ce nothing new demanded her attention right now, she was determined to enjoy herself.
He sat to her right, talking to a cop buddy. Clay Jessup was a lanky hunk of man with sandy blond hair and green eyes. Occasionally, Jack touched her knee under the table or fingered the hem of her black cocktail dress. She wanted to get closer to him, feel his hands on her the way she had the other night.
Something had changed for Terra after the fire at Jack's. The man had come to mean more to her than she'd ever expected. As a result, she'd been a little nervous and giddy about their date tonight. She was used to controlling her feelings, but right now she wasn't sure she could control so much as a sneeze.
His hand felt incredible on the bare skin right above the low back of her dress. When he leaned forward to better hear something Clay said, his thumb stroked the base of her neck. A shiver danced through her.
She wanted him to touch her all over, wanted to touch him all over. Draped in the heat of his body she felt more protected and turned on than she had ever felt with a man.
A sudden rush of impatience made her restless. There were too many people in here, too much noise. She wanted him all to herself. When she could politely do so, she wound up her conversation with the attorney and waited for a lull in his chat with his cop buddy.
She laid a hand on Jack's granite-hard leg, curled her fingers lightly against the inside of his thigh. Beneath her palm, his muscles jerked and she smiled into his eyes. "Detective, what about that dance you promised me?"
"Yes, absolutely." As he stood and held her chair, he said to his friend, "Got a better offer, Jessup."
"Can't argue with that." The other man lifted a hand as they walked off. "Nice to meet you, Terra."
"You, too."
Jack swept her onto the crowded dance floor for the end of a quick tempo song. Completely ignoring the jazzy beat, he held her close and moved slowly.
She melted against him, looping her arms around his neck. "I'm not the greatest dancer," she said.
"You feel pretty great to me."
They swayed together, her thighs teasing in and out of his. The occasional brush of his erection against her belly set off the heat already smoldering inside her. He held her close, his touch burning through her dress. The measured friction of their bodies hardened her nipples and set off a chain reaction in her nerves.
