Her pulse leapt. "That's great. Devin and I will go by there today. Thanks, Max. It's been rough trying to cover so much ground with just Devin and myself."
"Hey, I'm helping, too," Emma protested.
"I know. I'm thrilled to have both of you on the team. What can you tell me about how the fire started last night, Em?"
"The ignition was similar to the other fires—gasoline, rags—and this building had the added advantage of having a lot of those materials already inside," Emma replied.
"Was there anything found at the fire? A St. Christopher's medal perhaps?"
"No. But I'm going back there this afternoon to take another look." Emma paused. "I know the building was on Devin's target list. He was on the money."
"We were at the right building, wrong street. So close and yet not close enough. It's so frustrating."
"How is Devin feeling today?" Emma asked.
"He's angry with himself for losing the chase."
"What about his head injury? Your text messages were a little frightening."
"He just had some bruising. The airbag saved his life. He's going to be fine."
"I'm glad he didn't get more seriously hurt."
"Me, too. We're running the partial plate, but we haven't found anything close to a lead yet. The one thing we know for sure is that there's going to be another fire, and it's going to be bigger and more destructive."
Emma's lips tightened into a hard line. "Has Devin worked up a list of targets for the third fire?"
"He's doing that today. The last fire in every trio has occurred within a week of the preceding fire. We don't have a lot of time."
"Then we all better get back to work," Emma said. "I was thinking that Devin's partner, Agent Parker, obviously figured something out. How else would she have gotten to the house where she died? What was the clue she found that no one else has been able to find?"
"Devin has been asking those questions since she died," Kate replied. "He told me that she was on her own most of that day and whatever she'd discovered, she'd probably learned it right before she went to the house. She texted him the address and left him a voicemail that said they'd been wrong about the profile, but that was it. When he got to the house, it was too late."
Emma nodded, a gleam of compassionate understanding in her eyes. "No wonder he's so driven to find her killer. He feels responsible."
"He does. We all understand why. We've worked with partners. We know that the bond goes deep. We're supposed to be there to watch each other's back. And while I can see that Agent Parker went off on her own and didn't include Devin in whatever she was looking into, all Devin sees is an angry wave of guilt. The only way he's going to get free of it is to find the real killer." She let out a sigh. "But Sam will still be dead. Anger has been fueling Devin the past eighteen months. I worry about what will happen to him when he doesn't have an investigation to conduct."
"He's not your responsibility, Kate. You barely know him. Or have you gotten closer?" Emma asked.
There was a teasing light in Emma's eyes, but Kate didn't feel like talking about last night with anyone, not even her cousin. "I've gotten close enough to respect and admire his relentless devotion to find justice for his former partner."
"But you can't let this guy's mission become yours," Max put in. "I know what guilt feels like. Believe me, I've experienced guilt on a lot of levels over the years, but not all of it really belonged to me."
"I know you're both right. It's just difficult not to feel compassion when you can see how much pain someone is in."
"You don't sound like a hard-hearted FBI agent right now," Emma said with a smile.
"I'm still a work in progress," she admitted. "I know I have to get tougher."
"Don't get too tough," Max said. "Compassion and understanding can be good investigative tools." He got to his feet. "On that note, I actually have to go to work. I have another case to look into."
"Thanks again for your help, Max."
"Hey, whatever I can do, I'm happy to do." He gave Emma a kiss. "See you later, babe."
"Bye," Emma said.
As Emma's gaze followed her husband out the door, Kate smiled. "You are still so in love, you can't take your eyes off him. It's very cute."
Emma smiled back at her. "He's hot. I like to look at him."
"Well, he's all yours."
"I told him, Kate, about the miscarriage."
"I'm glad you're not carrying that burden alone."
"It did feel better. He was a little rattled, but Max is good at bouncing back. And he helped me bounce back, too. We're not going to give up."
"I'm glad to hear it. You have lots of time, too."
"I know. I think watching everyone else in the family get pregnant got me a little too focused on babies. I'm happy with my job, and it wouldn't hurt me to work on my career for a while. When kids come along, I'll be further ahead in my job and it will be easier to take time off."
"That sounds very logical."
"And very much like Max. Those were pretty much his words," Emma said with a laugh. "But he's right. He usually is, dammit. Anyway, thanks for giving me the kick in the butt to talk to him about it."
"I'm surprised Nicole or Shayla didn't do that. Your sisters don't usually hold back."
"I haven't told them. I didn't want to bum anyone out. No one else needs to know."
"Okay, my lips are sealed." She pushed back her chair and stood up. "I should get going. There's a lot to do. We need to figure out the next target, and I need to get this case wrapped up before Mia arrives and the wedding festivities begin."
"That's a lot of ticking clocks."
"Too many. I don't want to let Devin down, but I also cannot let Mia down. When my boss sent me out here, he told me to give Devin five days of my time, but how can I walk away now?"
"I don't think you can, and not just because of the case. Because of him." Emma met her gaze. "Just be careful, Kate, and I'm not just talking about fire danger; I'm talking about your heart. You're involved with him. I can see it on your face."
"My heart is fine," she said, hoping that was true. "And I can handle our…involvement."
"I hope so."
She hoped so, too, but she didn't have time to worry about that now. She was more concerned that time was running out, and she did not want to have to choose between Devin and her family.
* * *
Devin glanced at his watch, and then turned his attention back to his computer, annoyed that his thoughts kept drifting to Kate. It wasn't just that he wanted to know what she was finding out from Emma, but also because he couldn't stop thinking about her.
He couldn't remember the last time a woman had distracted him so much.
Kate was going to be hard to forget.
But he would have to forget her, because she would move on, and so would he.
Just not quite yet.
The front door opened, and his pulse jumped as he heard her come down the hall.
"Hey," she said, entering the room. She gave him a smile as she set her bag on the table and sat down across from him. "How's it going?"
"It's going," he said with a shrug. "No hits on the partial plate. I've managed to get one of my friends at SFPD to check traffic cameras along the route of my chase yesterday. Hoping the car and complete plate were captured."
"That would be a break."
"Did you learn anything from your cousin?"
"She said the fire was started like all the rest of them. There was no St. Christopher's medal, but she's going back to the scene later today. She'd like us to text her a list of potential targets for the third fire. Have you been working on that?"
He nodded. "I have. We can go over them. Did she say anything else?"
"Not really. But Emma got her husband Max involved. I told you he's a police detective. He decided to re-interview a former roommate of Baines's, Malcolm Homer."
"I remember Homer. He had nothing of interest to say. None of the roommates did."
"Well, Max asked him specifically about any contacts Baines might have mentioned from high school, following up on the St. Bernadette's connection. I guess that wasn't a question anyone asked before."
Devin frowned. "Probably not. We definitely weren't thinking about friendships going that far back."
"Mr. Homer said that Baines had mentioned running into a high school friend and that the friend had reminded him how much he'd wanted to be a firefighter. After they started talking again, Baines applied for the fire academy. Mr. Homer also said that Baines was in a good mood in the few weeks before he died, implying that this old friend had reinvigorated him in some way."
"I assume you didn't get a name of this friend."
"No. But Malcolm did say that Baines went to meet his friend at a bar called Rebel, Rebel in the Mission. I don't remember seeing that bar on the list of places visited during the initial investigation."
"First I've heard of it."
"I think we should go down there and show Baines's picture around and see if anyone remembers him and who he might have been with. I know there's a lot to do and maybe that's a wild-goose chase, but—"
"But it's worth a trip," he said with a nod. "Let's go now. We can look over the targets when we get back."
"I rented a car," she added. "So I can drive us."
"Great. I hadn't gotten around to that yet. You can expense it to the Bureau." He grinned. "Hal would love that."
"I'll figure it out later."
He felt better now that she was back, now that she was giving him ideas, and pepping him up with her positive attitude and energized smile.
He'd always been able to self-motivate, even through the long months when nothing had been going on. But lately, he'd been feeling the strain of fighting a solo battle, and it felt damn good to have her on his team, even if she was distracting him beyond belief. She still definitely brought more good than bad with her.
* * *
Rebel, Rebel was a hipster bar in the trendy part of town known as the Mission. During the day it was a bar and grill, serving lunch and early dinner. By nine at night the club turned into a music venue showing some of the hottest acts in town.
When they arrived, it was a little before four, and there were only about six patrons in the bar.
Devin was fine with the empty nature of the club. The young male bartender looked bored as he wiped down the counter.
"Hello," Kate said, giving the bartender a smile.
Devin couldn't help but notice how the man straightened and brightened as he took in just how pretty his new customer was.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.
"I'll take a beer. Devin?"
"Make that two." He slid onto the barstool next to her, giving her a subtle nod to take the lead. She had the bartender's attention, and there was no doubt in his mind that Kate could work this guy better than he could, so he was going to let her.
As the man set down two beer glasses, Kate said, "I was wondering if you might answer a few questions."
The bartender tensed. "About?"
"A customer. How long have you worked here?"
"Going on three years. Are you a cop?"
Kate pulled out her badge. "FBI."
"Whoa. I did not expect that," the bartender said. "I was almost going to card you."
"I'm definitely of age. The man's name was Rick Baines. He was killed in a fire eighteen months ago. We heard he used to come in here with some of his friends." She pulled out her phone and opened up a photo of Rick. "Do you recognize him?"
"Sure," the bartender said, barely glancing at the picture. "I knew Rick."
"Did you know any of his friends?" Kate asked.
"Some of them. Alan Jenkins was a regular. He and Rick came in here a few times. But I heard Alan moved away." The bartender paused, his gazed narrowing. "I thought Rick torched some building and died in the fire. Are you saying Alan was involved? Because Alan told me he had no idea that Rick would do something like that."
Devin thought it was interesting that Alan and the bartender had actually spoken about the fire. "Did Alan come in here after the fire?" he asked.
"Yeah. He was messed up about Rick's death. He couldn't stop talking about it. He said it was ironic that Rick had died in a fire when he'd wanted so badly to be a firefighter."
"Did anyone else come in here with Alan and Rick?" Devin asked.
"I don't know. There definitely were other people around. There were a couple of good-looking women at their table one night. I never got their names."
"Anyone else stand out in your mind?"
A light entered the bartender's eyes. "There was another woman. She was serious looking, like a businesswoman or a cop. She met Rick the day of the fire."
Devin's gut tightened as a really bad feeling swept over him. "What did she look like?"
"Brown hair pulled back. Brown eyes. She walked in, said something to Rick and then they walked out. I remember wondering if Rick was in some kind of trouble, because she had a law enforcement vibe."
Devin reached into his pocket, his heart pounding against his chest as impossible thoughts ran through his brain. He took out his phone and opened his photos. He pulled up the one of Sam that he looked at every time he felt guilty, every time he vowed to get her justice.
He slowly turned the phone so the bartender could see it, and through tight lips, he got out three important words. "Was this her?"
"Devin," Kate murmured, but his attention was on the bartender.
"Yeah, that's her," the guy said. "Who is she?"
Devin turned the phone so Kate could see the photo.
She sucked in a quick breath.
"She's an FBI agent," Devin said. "And she died in the fire with Baines."
Sixteen
"I'm sorry," the bartender said, looking a little pale. "I guess I remember someone else was killed in the fire, but I didn't know who it was."
"Why didn't you tell the police any of this?" Kate asked.
"No one came here. No one asked me. I didn't know I knew anything," the bartender said nervously. "Why are you asking me all these questions now?"
"We're trying to find the person who killed Rick and this agent," Devin said, putting the phone back in his pocket.
"You mean Rick didn't set the fire?"
"We're trying to figure that out," Kate said.
"Do you remember anything else?" Devin pressed. "Something that maybe didn't seem significant at the time but now might be important?"
"I don't think so. Sorry."
Kate slid her card across the bar. "You've been very helpful. If you think of anything else, or if anyone comes into this bar who you saw with Rick, please call me, and see if you can get their names, phone numbers."
"Sure, of course, but I don't think I've seen any of his crowd in a long time."
Devin took a swig of his beer as the bartender moved down the counter to help another customer. He was still rattled by the information they'd received.
Sam had met with Baines here—before they'd gone to the house—before they died. Why hadn't she told him about Baines? About the meeting?
"Are you ready to go?" Kate asked.
He nodded, following her out of the bar. "Sam never mentioned Rick Baines to me," he said, as he got into the car. "She never said she had a meeting here or anywhere else."
"I figured she didn't, or you would have come here before."
"I can't believe Baines's roommate didn't tell me Rick liked to come to this bar. He'd obviously been here a few times."
"The roommate didn't know it was important."
"But I asked each one of those roommates where Baines spent his time outside of work. I was never given the name of this bar."
She gave him a helpless shrug. "I don't know what to say, Devin. Witnesses can be unreliable."
"You should say I screwed up."
"You didn't. I know you went back and re-interviewed the roommates a month after the fire. You c
an't force someone to tell you something."
"I should have gone back again, but I thought they were a dead end."
"The only reason Max went back to them this week was because we found the link between Baines and St. Bernadette's, Devin. And Max was curious to hear about Rick Baines from someone who knew him. He was trying to get a handle on the case. And before you say we should have immediately gone to talk to the roommates again after we discovered the link, can I just remind you that we've been pretty busy chasing down a lot of different leads in the past few days?"
"It's all just excuses."
"Whatever," she said in annoyance. "Look, Devin, you be angry later, but the time we waste on you mentally kicking yourself is not getting us anywhere."
Kate had a way of delivering a pep talk and a smackdown all at the same time, something he both admired and found irritating, usually because she was right.
He couldn't turn back the clock; he could only move on from here. "I can't figure out how Sam and Baines came into contact with each other in the first place," he said. "Did he reach out to her? Did she reach out to him? And if she did, how did she get to him?"
"I don't know, but the meeting between them at the bar before the fire changes everything. Either Rick lured her to the bar and then to the house, or they were working together in some way."
"They could have been working together," he said slowly, a theory gathering steam in his head. "Baines wanted to be a firefighter, but he'd been rejected. Maybe he wanted to show he was a hero, that he could stop an arsonist in his tracks. I know that sounds a little out there, but it's possible he reached out to Sam."
"I can see the logic to that."
"We need more than logic; we need proof."
"Baby steps."
"I am tired of baby steps," he said with a groan.
"I know. So what's next? We have about ninety minutes before the book signing and fundraiser. Shall we go back to the apartment? Or is there someone else you want to talk to?"
He thought for a moment, his mind racing in a dozen different directions. Should he seek out Malcolm Homer? The other roommates? Someone else?
Tender Is The Night (Callaways Book 10) Page 17
