by Debra Cowan
“Was the brother ever a suspect?”
Nate shook his head. “His alibi checked out, and I couldn’t find a motive.”
“He wasn’t a beneficiary in Brad’s will or insurance policy?”
“No.”
“Who are the beneficiaries?”
“The victim’s ex-wife and his kids. The guy lived over the restaurant, so the fire destroyed his residence as well as his business.”
“Did you find any prints at the scene?”
“No.” He changed lanes to pass a semitrailer. “I called a few swimming pool stores last night.”
“Busy man. Any luck?”
“None of the people I spoke to could tell a difference in sales of pool chemicals until May, when they took a big jump.”
“That’s well after the date of our first fire-murder.”
“Yeah.”
Nate found himself wondering if she had ever come close again to getting married, but he wasn’t asking. The less personal they kept their time together, the better.
“So, Houston, why did you come back to Oklahoma?”
His gaze shot to her. So much for not getting personal.
“The job offer was too good to pass up?”
Nate wasn’t sure what surprised him more: that she had asked about something besides the investigation, or that she had initiated the conversation.
“My stepdad passed away suddenly about nine months ago. I wanted to be near my mom.”
“Is she getting to the age where she needs help?”
“She’s fine, but my sister has three kids. If something happens and my mom does need help, it isn’t fair to expect Becca to be available all the time.”
Robin eyed him speculatively.
“What? You can’t believe I have a mother? Did you think I was hatched?”
“No.” She continued to study him. “You have a sister.”
He nodded. “She’s two years older than I am.”
He took the highway exit that led to the rural community of Warren. The service road curved through hills and woods for a couple of miles before reaching town.
“What about your dad?” Robin asked.
“What about him?”
“I looked up some articles about that big arson case you worked in Chicago. You said eighteen people died in the nursing home blaze, three of them firefighters.”
Where was she going with this? The muscles in his shoulders knotted tighter. He could just imagine how she would react if he started with the questions.
“The articles I read listed one of the victims as a Charles Houston. Was he a relative?”
“My dad.” Nate’s voice sounded rough, gravelly. He hadn’t talked about this in a long time, and he didn’t want to talk about it now. A dull ache lodged under his ribs.
He waited for her to rip into him with something like, “Maybe that’s why you can’t objectively determine if you put away the wrong guy.”
“I’m sorry. That had to be rough.”
Nate was so startled his hand jerked on the wheel. She sounded sincere. He wasn’t sure exactly what to make of her bringing up the subject, but he had to give her credit for not taking a shot at him. “Thanks,” he murmured.
Since she had crossed into personal territory, Nate thought about asking her if she had come to terms with Kyle and what had happened. Kyle had sworn he had told Robin the reason he called off the wedding. She had to be glad she hadn’t married the guy, so why did she act as though she were still angry at Nate?
He wasn’t going to ask. Besides, their personal lives were the last thing they should be talking about.
The two-lane road led them into Warren, and Nate took the first right turn. The streets were old and cracked, wide enough for at least four cars side-by-side. Faded red-brick buildings with flat facades and weathered store fronts lined the street on both sides. The town had a quaint and quiet charm.
Nate parked in front of the police department, which looked newer than the other buildings. He climbed out of the SUV and adjusted his holster. As Robin pulled on her jacket, she stepped with Nate into the air-conditioned glass-front office. Chief Bolen left one of the office’s two computers to shake Nate’s hand and meet Robin.
The gray-haired man towered above both of them. He had sharp features, with deep laugh lines around his mouth. After telling the chief their reason for coming, the older lawman accompanied them to the restaurant, a block down and one over, still surrounded by crime scene tape.
The two-story structure had burned to the ground and the acrid odors of charred wood and melted plastic still lingered. Robin walked around the building.
Nate showed her the point of origin. Pulling a small notebook from her jacket pocket, she jotted a few notes before they moved on toward the home of the victim’s brother, Billy Myers.
As they walked from the center of town, they passed a gas station and convenience store. Nate and Robin filled Bolen in about the third fire-murder and their suspicions that they were dealing with a serial arsonist.
The convenience store fronted a residential area of small, older homes. They knocked on the door of a small, white frame house. It was answered by a glowering concrete block of a man.
Nate showed his badge. “Mr. Myers, Agent Houston. Do you remember me?”
“Yeah. You’re from the fire marshal’s office.” He wasn’t drunk, but did reek of alcohol. Looking sullen, he ran a hand through his long, combed-back hair. “Did you find out who set the fire that burned down my brother’s restaurant?”
“Not yet.” Nate gestured to Robin. “This is Detective Daly. She’s working the case with me.”
Billy’s gaze slid over her. “She’s a lot prettier than you are.”
Nate waited for Robin to turn her glacial stare on the other man.
Instead, she took off her sunglasses and smiled. “I know you’ve already spoken to Agent Houston and Chief Bolen, but could you spare me a few moments?”
“Sure.”
“Is there anything else you remember?”
He shook his head, his gaze tracking over her body, one inch at a time.
Nate shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing at the man in warning.
She didn’t react to the man’s leering. “Maybe something you saw or heard? Anything?”
Myers started to shake his head again, then paused. “Well, there was a woman.”
Nate frowned. “What woman?”
“The night before the fire, I saw a woman sneaking out of Brad’s apartment and I asked him about her. Since his divorce, he’s been entertaining a lot of women. He said he didn’t know her name.”
“They just hooked up for one night?” Nate asked.
Billy shrugged. “That’s what it sounded like.”
This was the first Nate had heard about any woman with Brad Myers the night before the fire. “Why didn’t you mention this either of the times I talked to you?”
He smiled at Robin. “I clean forgot about it until your pretty partner asked me.”
“Do you have a description?” she asked.
The man thought for a minute. “She was real skinny. Her hair wasn’t as long as yours, maybe to her jaw. I couldn’t tell the color. You could ask around town, see if anyone else knew about her and Brad. In a town this size, somebody might have.”
“Do you think you might recognize her if you saw her again?” Nate asked as Robin jotted more notes.
“I don’t know. It was dark. Brad’s outside light was busted.”
Robin glanced up. “Where would they have met?”
“Brad’s restaurant, The Gemini. Or maybe the bar on the other side of town.”
“Thanks.” She took a card from her purse and gave it to Billy. “If you think of anything else, could you call me?”
“Yes, ma’am. Be real happy to do that.”
She smiled as she started back up the street with Nate and the chief.
Billy called out, “Maybe that woman’s the one who set the fire.”
“Or maybe it was Janine, Brad’s ex,” the victim’s brother suggested. “If she thought he was having an affair, maybe she decided to get back at him.”
“Thanks!” Robin slipped on her shades, glancing at Nate.
He shook his head. “I looked at the ex-wife, but she had an alibi. Even if she hadn’t, nothing else lined up. This case is too similar to the others. It has to be the same arsonist.”
“I agree.”
“So, no connection to Les Irwin’s ex-girlfriend, Pattie Roper, or the woman who may have been having an affair with Dennis Bane.”
“No connection that we’ve found yet,” Robin reminded.
“Right.”
They spent the next couple of hours talking to people, asking if anyone knew about the mystery woman who had been with Brad Myers the night before the fire. Myers’ ex-wife, the mayor, merchants, the two postal employees. No one knew about her.
Nate couldn’t help being impressed by Robin. She read people well, remained calm. The tension between the two of them could easily have affected these interviews, but she didn’t let it. The case came first with her. Nate admired that.
That wasn’t all he admired, he admitted to himself, as his gaze traced the slender lines of her back, the gentle flare of her hips. His attention again went to her hair.
Her back-off attitude hadn’t lessened his desire to get his hands in the silky mass. It hadn’t gotten rid of his curiosity about her, either. With a jolt, he realized Detective Gorgeous had held his attention longer than any woman since his ex-wife.
Saturday morning found Robin at the softball field on the north side of Presley. Today was the annual softball matchup between Presley’s fire and police departments, a charity event that raised money for the families of firefighters and police officers killed in the line of duty.
In a navy P.P.D. T-shirt, shorts and ball cap, she warmed up with Kiley McClain along a stretch of chain-link fence that paralleled the first base line. Robin always enjoyed this game and she would enjoy this one more than most because she didn’t have to see Nate Houston.
After spending a good part of the previous day with him, she was glad for the space. Their trip had gone surprisingly well. Half-expecting him to take over at any minute, to insert himself into interviews where she neither needed nor wanted his help, she had been surprised when he hadn’t. Except for asking Billy Myers why he hadn’t told Nate about the woman seen coming out of the victim’s apartment, Nate had let Robin run the show.
Though she would never admit it, he had been right when he accused her of not wanting to be alone with him. Collier’s canceling at the last minute had thrown her.
Both she and Houston had been professional. She hadn’t anticipated anything else, but she also hadn’t imagined they would work together as smoothly as they had. While she didn’t want to give that too much weight, it was good for the investigation.
Another thing that surprised her was that she couldn’t stop thinking about the emotion on his face when she had asked about his father dying in the nursing home fire. The bleakness in his eyes had compassion welling inside her. She didn’t want to feel anything for Houston, but she knew the heavy hollowness of loss and how it shrouded your life. Robin would never have guessed they had anything in common.
“Looks like we’re going to have a good crowd today.” Kiley pointed over Robin’s shoulder.
She looked, noting the bleachers were quickly filling. When she turned back, Collier was standing behind Kiley, his head bent to hers. He wore a red Presley fire department T-shirt and shorts, like the rest of his teammates. He said something only she could hear.
His red-haired wife blushed and jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow. “Get out of here.”
He grinned, kissing her neck before he walked over to the fence. “We’re going to kick your butts, ladies.”
“Dream on, McClain.” His wife’s eyes sparkled.
As Kiley and Robin continued to throw the ball, Collier turned his attention to her. “Anything new on the case?”
“No. Just what I told you about the mystery woman when I called last night.”
“That was good work.”
“We got lucky, but we’re not having that same luck with the swimming pool stores.”
“How was the trip with Houston?”
Robin fumbled the ball, managing to keep it in her glove. Why was he bringing up Nate? “It was fine.”
“He was pretty impressed that you got some new information.”
“Then my work on earth is done,” she drawled. Houston had complimented her? Robin had to admit she wasn’t being nearly as nice as he was.
Collier grinned.
“To your dugouts!” Jack Spencer called out.
Robin and Kiley jogged over to join the other cops. Robin waved at Terra, who sat in the bleachers with hers and Jack’s daughter, Elise.
The dark-haired little girl bounced in Terra’s lap, calling in her baby voice, “Daddy, Daddy!”
Jack smiled at her, then turned back to the team. “We’re in the field first.”
They all took their places amid cheers and calls from the audience. Robin and Kiley played second base and shortstop, respectively. Spencer pitched and Clay Jessup was at first base, with Captain Hager at third.
“Batter up!” the umpire called.
Robin took her position, calling encouragement over her shoulder to the people playing the field behind her.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed someone moving to home plate and she shifted her gaze to the batter. Her mouth went dry.
Nate Houston. What was he doing here? Who had invited him? And wow, he looked good. At the sight of his long-lined athletic frame, something clutched hard and deep in her belly.
He wore a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves cut out. Her gaze moved over bronze, steel-hard biceps, to large hands and down to powerful, hair-dusted legs. The loose fabric of the shirt did nothing to disguise how defined and muscular his chest was beneath. He was all hard angles, planes and sleek sinew.
Hers was a purely physical reaction. She’d known the guy was in shape, but yowsa.
“Hubba hubba,” Kiley said under her breath.
Robin grinned. “You’re married, McClain. You better simmer down.”
The other woman laughed. “I was talking about my husband. Who did you think I was talking about?”
It took considerable effort to force her gaze away from Houston, but when she did, she saw Collier standing only a couple of feet from the other man. She hadn’t noticed McClain at all. Nate Houston had short-circuited her system. The only signal getting to her brain was yes, yes, yes.
Kiley gave her a sly look. “Not hard to guess who you’re looking at.”
Robin felt her face flame; she hoped her friend would believe it was from the heat. She tugged her cap down, ignoring the knowing glint in her friend’s eyes. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
Houston didn’t swing the bat until the third pitch. He slammed the ball into left field, making it to second base before the ball was thrown to Robin. He was safe, so she returned the ball to Spencer.
Nate stood on her right, poised to run, with one foot on the bag. “Hey, Daly.”
“Hey.” Unable to squash her curiosity, she asked, “How did you know about the game?”
“McClain invited me. He said it wouldn’t matter that I don’t work for PFD, since this event is for charity.”
“Right.” This close she caught the scents of soap and man. And she could see those biceps were every bit as granite-hard as they had looked from home plate.
Pulling her gaze away, she focused on Collier, the next batter. Spencer’s pitch shot straight into the strike zone.
“Very nice,” she murmured. “Perfect.”
“It was inside, low,” Nate declared.
She made a sound. “Get some glasses, Houston.
”
Jack sailed his next pitch over the plate.
“Another one inside and low,” Nate said.
Robin sent him a disbelieving look. “Dude, it was dead center.”
A grin tugged at his lips. “I’m not the one who needs glasses.”
“I can’t even imagine how you saw your own ball well enough to hit it, Grandpa.”
He laughed outright then, a rich baritone that shook something loose inside Robin. “We’ll see how you do when you get up to bat, Daly. Maybe we can find you a Seeing Eye dog.”
“Aren’t you adorable?” she drawled, biting back a smile.
Jack gave Nate a hard-eyed stare then faced forward and fired in another pitch. Smack! Collier hit the ball high over Robin’s head. The spectators jumped to their feet, whistling and cheering. Houston took off for third base, reaching it seconds before the center fielder managed to throw the ball to Kiley, who fired it to Captain Hager.
As Spencer geared up for the next batter, Robin found herself watching Nate, who stood on the edge of third base. When she realized she was staring, she refocused her attention on the game. The firefighters scored three runs before the cops earned their next time at bat.
Jerry French, a veteran firefighter, pitched for their team while Nate caught. Robin was third at bat and walked to the plate in the midst of deafening cheers for French’s three perfect pitches to the previous player.
As she lined up over the plate, Houston stood just in front of her and lobbed the ball to the pitcher. She tried not to notice the flex of muscle and sinew in his arms and shoulders.
He lifted his mask, blue eyes twinkling. “Good luck, Daly.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t even think about messing with me.”
He chuckled. Waiting for the first pitch, she was nervous. She wouldn’t put it past him to do something at the last second, like yell and startle her.
Nate caught the first pitch, high and outside, without saying a word.
The next pitch was called as a low ball. She began to relax. Hearing Terra and Elise cheering in the background, Robin assumed her stance.
She kept her eye on the ball. Perfect. Just as she started to swing, she heard a low, smoky voice, “Nice legs, Daly.”
Startled, her jaw dropped. The ball zoomed past, right into Houston’s mitt. Her gaze jerking to him, she glared.
