Burning Love

by Debra Cowan

  "You've got to be thinking the same thing I am—our serial arsonist is responsible."

  "Yes. We have no proof yet and the pattern is different, but something tells me this is the work of our torch." The sick feeling in her gut was the result of that hunch and not over the differences between her and Jack. "I'll take samples to see if the same accelerant was used as in our other fires."

  "Why would Reynolds come here?" Jack asked. "This is the scene of the first arson."

  "I think he was doing some background work on the case. Today during the interview, he asked several questions about this fire and the second one, at the photography studio. He kept checking his dates carefully against something in his notebook."

  "How was he the rest of the time?" His gaze flicked over her. "Still trying to put the moves on you?"

  Terra knew she should tell him to mind his own business. "He was his usual self."

  Jack's jaw tightened and Terra wondered how he'd react if she told him the reporter had tried to back her against the office building and kiss her.

  The air between them hung stilted and heavy. Her mind was able to separate from the last time she'd seen him, keep up a mental guard, but her body ached for his touch. She shifted, restless and annoyed.

  He pointed to several reporters who circled the officer guarding the front line of the crime scene. "Wonder where Reynolds's buddy is? The cameraman?"

  She looked over her shoulder, hating how uncomfortable she felt around Jack. "I don't know. He wasn't with Reynolds during our interview either."

  "I thought they always worked together."

  "So did I. I asked about him, and Dane said that he wanted someone on the camera other than T.J."

  "Maybe T.J. was shooting another story."

  She didn't think she could stand this close to Jack much longer. Smelling the sexy earthiness of his aftershave, remembering how his muscles rippled beneath her hands, her lips. "I guess I should get started."

  "Me, too. That means I need to ask you some questions."

  "Me?"

  "From what I've gathered so far, you were one of the last people to see him alive."

  Her head came up. "Just like Harris."

  "Just like Harris," Jack repeated grimly. "Both murders happened within hours after you were with these men."

  The watching, the stalking. It had been about her, not her and Jack. "The Molotov cocktails at your house."

  "A murder attempt?"

  She nodded. "Because you were with me?"

  "It could be. If we go by body count, the theory is that the arsonist knew you were with Harris, knew you were with me, knew you were with Reynolds."

  "But why kill them?"

  "And not me?"

  "That's not what I meant," she said crisply. "Why kill them at all? I wasn't involved with Harris or Reynolds. At least not the way I was with you."

  Jack looked away, a muscle ticcing in his jaw. He rubbed a hand over his face. "What are motives for arson?"

  "Revenge. To hide a crime."

  "Attention."

  "He or she has been getting attention," Terra pointed out. "Television, newspaper, radio."

  "Maybe they want your attention."

  She swallowed around a hard knot in her throat. "This can't be because of me. No."

  "We've got to look at every angle, Terra. This is one we haven't seen before."

  The thought that these men might have been killed simply because she'd spent time with them sent a chill through her. "I probably didn't spend thirty minutes total with Reynolds. Why him?"

  "I'll start retracing his last steps. Maybe we can figure it out."

  The thought that Jack could have been killed because of her cut her breath. Maybe he'd broken up with her just in time, but he could still be in danger. The arsonist had no way of knowing Jack had walked away from her. From them.

  "What time did Reynolds leave your office?"

  "Around six-thirty. I stayed and worked until a little before ten, then went home." She wanted to ask what he'd done all day, but she didn't.

  "You say T.J. wasn't present at the interview. Who was?"

  "Another cameraman. I think Dane called him Lonnie. And Darla was there. She stayed until after they left."

  "Okay." Jack scribbled in his pocket notebook. "I'll go talk to these people. See if Lonnie knows why Dane might have come here. I'll also find T.J. and ask if he saw Dane tonight or knows why Reynolds might've come here."

  Terra tried to shake off her distress about Reynolds's death. Her forced closeness to Jack wasn't helping. Still, she had a job to do. Popping the lens off her camera, she prepared to take pictures of the burned van.

  "Let me know when you get the tox results."

  "I will." She turned to walk away, relief and disappointment mixing that she was finally getting some space from Jack.

  His voice stopped her. "We can't prove that Cecily and LeBass were at every fire scene, but we can prove Reynolds was."

  She glanced over her shoulder, wondering at his thoughts. "Right."

  "As much as Dane worked with Coontz, it's likely the cameraman was at all the scenes, too."

  "But his alibis checked out."

  "They didn't send up any red flags," Jack admitted, "but it can't hurt to check them again. Besides, Coontz's connection to Reynolds is something we should definitely explore further."

  Terra faced him. "Are you thinking Coontz could be the torch? You saw photos of him at his cousin's wedding the night of Harris's murder."

  "True." Jack thought for a minute. "He could've slipped out during the wedding, shown back up at the reception and had his picture snapped."

  "So maybe there's a crack in the alibi he also gave for the night of the arson at the photography studio, when he said he was out of town."

  "Right."

  "This scene may take me several hours."

  "I plan to check in with all the florists this morning. If the arsonist stays true to form, you should be getting a flower delivery sometime today. I'll show Coontz's picture along with Cecily's and LeBass's. Maybe we can get an identification this time."

  As much as anything, she would miss working with Jack, figuring things out. How could standing in this damp cold air at the crack of dawn talking about a torch make her want him? "Sounds good."

  "I guess I'll get started."

  Under the lights, his eyes were dark, unreadable. Yet something held her there, something provocative and powerful. "I'll keep you posted."

  "Good luck finding what you want in the lab tests."

  "Good luck getting an ID." This was ridiculous. One of them had to walk away sometime. "Please be careful, Jack. If this arsonist is killing people because of their involvement with me, he may not know we're…over."

  Fierce heat flared in his eyes. His face hardened and for a moment, Terra thought he might say something. Change his mind about them. All he did was give a curt nod.

  She walked away, pressing a fist to her chest to stave off the stab of pain at what they'd given up.

  * * *

  Over. Yes, he and Terra were over. It had been at his insistence. He had no right to feel angry or irritated, but he did.

  Rubbing his face, he tried to shift his gaze from the graceful sway of her hips as she moved off, then gave up. He didn't like their splitting up to follow different leads, especially not now that they had a hunch the murders had been committed because these men had spent time with her, but she'd be safe enough here. Pope would be here and so would the other officer guarding the crime scene. Jack would just have to take comfort in that fact, brush off the irritating knowledge that someone besides him would be protecting her.

  The best thing he could do, especially if the arsonist was trying to get her attention, was to solve this case as quickly as possible. A cleared case would also wipe out the fog of desire and need affecting his mental equilibrium. Just being around her made him second-guess the decision he'd made. The only decision he could make.

  Tear
ing his gaze from her long-legged stride, he forced his thoughts to the investigation and mentally laid out what he needed to do. Stopping at the television station to ask who'd last seen Dane Reynolds was first on his list. He'd follow the bread crumbs from there until it was time for him to appear in court this afternoon.

  Terra stood near one of her high-powered floodlights, her hair a warm glow of color in the drab night. He had to get to work before he did something stupid like grab her and tell her he'd made a huge mistake.

  He'd done the right thing by putting the brakes on their relationship. Even if he couldn't stop thinking—dreaming—about the green-eyed woman who seemed to have effortlessly made herself a permanent part of him.

  As he watched her snap pictures of the van, Jack wondered darkly if walking away from her had been the biggest mistake of his life. It didn't help his disposition that a voice inside his head screamed back "yes."

  * * *

  All that morning and into the afternoon, Terra told herself to focus only on the work. The sooner this case was solved, the sooner Jack Spencer would be out of her life. That thought had her gripping the steering wheel tight enough to cramp her hands. Seeing him at the scene of Reynolds's murder had made her realize that she'd been waiting these past two days for Jack to tell her he'd made a mistake, see if they could try it again. But she knew now that wasn't going to happen.

  It had also made her realize something else. She'd fallen in love with him.

  Despite thinking she'd never go there again, despite knowing he didn't love her back. She loved him enough to risk getting her heart broken, enough to risk him walking out on her.

  Tears tightened her throat and she took a shaky breath. Jack was out of her life. He'd made that clear. She had to move on and forget. Somehow.

  Work would help. Dane's death was awful, but perhaps it was just what they needed to finally get a break. She had worked the scene thoroughly, finishing up about eight-thirty that morning. Rather than send her samples to the lab in Oklahoma City, she drove them there, and told the chemist she'd like to wait for the results. It was urgent.

  The tests took a few hours, but Terra put the time to good use. She made exhaustive notes, drew a timeline and began to plug in what she knew about T. J. Coontz and her arson dates. Several phone calls netted her the information that T.J. had registered for the out-of-town training seminar he'd given as an alibi for the date of the photography studio arson, but had never picked up his name badge. The seminar chairwoman didn't remember seeing him at all.

  For lunch, she had half a sandwich and a cup of coffee from the vending machine in the hall. Shortly before noon, the head chemist gave her toxicology and accelerant reports.

  Now, hours after Dane Reynolds had burned to death, she read the results, satisfaction sweeping through her. Paper in hand, she called Jack's cell phone.

  When he answered, she said excitedly, "I've got news."

  "Let's hear it."

  After telling him that Coontz's training seminar was unverified, she said, "Test results show the accelerant used to torch the news van is the same as the alcohol-based cleaning solution used at Harris's house and the other three arson sites. Also the toxicology report reveals high levels of Halcion in Dane's system."

  "Enough to have rendered him unconscious and unable to get out of the van," Jack said.

  "Yes. So we're definitely dealing with the same arsonist here, even though the pattern is different."

  "One link is the same. You."

  The knowledge put a queasy knot in her belly.

  "I've got some news, too." He sounded tired, but determined. "You and Lonnie were the last ones to see Dane. No one knows why he went to the janitorial supply store. Coontz wasn't at the studio when I was there, nor was he at home. We need to talk to him."

  "Together."

  "Absolutely. I did find a florist who thought T.J. was in her shop this morning buying flowers. She wasn't one hundred percent on the ID when I showed her his picture, but she definitely remembered a Channel Four van driving away. I decided to come to your office. I wanted to be here if the roses were delivered, and they were, right before you called."

  "Is there a note?"

  "Yeah." Jack didn't want to read it, felt his whole body pucker up. But his personal feelings had no place in this investigation. Not anymore. "It says, 'I guess I wasn't clear last time. No other men.'"

  "Ohmygosh!"

  The tremor in her voice had Jack's hand tightening on the phone. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes," she whispered. "I just can't believe these men were killed because of me. How sickening."

  He couldn't argue. He also couldn't protect her, at least not from here. "I think it's Coontz."

  "I'm afraid you might be right," she said dully.

  His heart ached for her. He wanted to solve this case and he knew she did, too, but she'd never once suspected the cameraman. Hell, neither had he. "I've got to go."

  "Please be careful, Jack." Her voice trembled, reaching through the phone to twist in his gut. "He could go after you next, just like he did Harris and Dane."

  "You've got to be careful, too. I'm sending someone over to watch your house. We don't know where he might show up."

  "What about you?"

  "There's no sense having anyone watch the place I'm staying. No way would the lieutenant okay the manpower for someone to sit on an empty place. I'll make sure no one follows me. You need to do the same."

  "I will."

  "Damn, I've got to be in court this afternoon and you won't be able to reach me on my cell phone."

  "I'm sure I'll be fine. If I find out anything else, I'll leave a voice mail on your phone."

  "I'll check it as soon as I can. We can interview Coontz tonight, once I'm out of court."

  "All right. I'll meet you at your rent house. What time?"

  "Six. I should definitely be finished by then."

  "I'm going to stop by each of the arson sites and talk to the owners and managers. See if any of them can identify T.J. or give me some kind of connection. I want to have as much information as possible when we interview him tonight."

  "That's good. I've got the department secretary running a check on him. I'll let you know if I turn up anything. Watch your back, Terra."

  "You, too."

  She hung up, apprehension suffocating her. Fingers crossed, they would have their serial arsonist and murderer by tonight.

  * * *

  An hour later, Terra was certain T. J. Coontz was her torch. How could she have missed him? He'd been in plain sight the whole time, but so unsuspicious.

  The owner of the burned photography studio recognized the picture of T.J. immediately. Randy Wates told her that Coontz had been a part-time employee and done a fine job until he'd started misplacing orders. After dozens of missing orders and two reprimands, Wates had no choice but to fire T.J.

  Terra's second stop, at the dental office, reaped more compelling evidence against Coontz. She called Jack's cell phone and left him a voice message. "Jack, T.J. has to be our guy. I've found connections between him and the photography studio and the dental office. I'll meet you at your house at six o'clock. Be careful."

  I love you, she wanted to add, but she bit off the words. Jack didn't want to hear them. He'd made that perfectly clear.

  * * *

  All afternoon, while Jack sat impatiently in court and waited his turn to testify, he kept seeing the hurt in Terra's eyes the other night, the way her face had paled. She had tried to reason with him, but obviously he'd been insane, driven crazy by fear. He'd let fear push her away. And now he couldn't shake the sense that his future had flashed right past while he worried about getting hurt.

  He'd been so sure that breaking things off with her was the right thing. Which, of course, was why he couldn't concentrate worth a damn. He couldn't stop thinking about her. Couldn't breathe when he realized that the end of this case would signify the finality of their relationship.

  He wasn't goi
ng to get over her.

  He was crazy in love with her.

  He didn't need his sister telling him—three times today—that he was an idiot for walking away from Terra. He'd figured it out all by himself.

  And he was going to tell her tonight as soon as she got to his house. He would do whatever he had to, including grovel, to win her back.

  After the longest hours of his life, Jack finally gave his testimony and court was recessed until Monday. A glance at his watch told him he had almost an hour before Terra arrived at his house. Enough time to stop for some flowers, maybe some root beer and ice cream.

  As he slid behind the wheel of his truck and left downtown Oklahoma City, he called the department secretary. "Wanda, it's Jack. Did you find what I was looking for?"

  "You betcha. That boy, Coontz, has a juvenile record. For arson."

  Arson. There were still questions to be asked, pieces to fit together, but he and Terra had found their arsonist. Listening to the voice mail she had left confirmed for Jack that Terra knew it, too.

  After they nailed this sicko, Jack was going to beg her forgiveness. Ask her to give them another chance.

  He stopped at a florist's shop, then the grocery. Careful to make sure he wasn't followed, Jack drove on to the older stone house he was renting until the repairs on his own were finished. He got out to lift the wooden garage door, then nosed his truck inside. After opening the door that led into the utility room, he leaned back into the vehicle to get his purchases.

  A shuffle at his back had him turning, then pain exploded in his head. He crumpled to the floor, his vision blurring before everything went black.

  Chapter 14

  Terra parked her Explorer in Jack's driveway and sat there for a moment, psyching herself up to see him. Working with him scraped across her bruised and raw nerves like a blade.

  She hadn't expected their split to hurt this much or to feel like she'd lost a part of herself. It would pass, she thought. Sometime in this century, please. Keith and her failed marriage had taught her she couldn't commit to anyone who wasn't willing to take her as a whole. Still, Jack's rejection and the lost promise of what she thought she'd found with him opened a wrenching emptiness inside her.