Cavanaugh Reunion Page 6
Maybe he was a little slow on the uptake, she thought. The good-looking ones usually were.
“If I had,” she pointed out patiently, crouching down again, “I’d know who did it. Or at least why. Right now, I’m still trying to find all the pieces of that puzzle,” she said under her breath.
Crouching down beside her, Ethan looked at what she was doing with interest. “Find anything new?”
Amusement curved her mouth as she glanced up for a moment. “Are you asking me to do your work for you, Detective?”
“No, I’m asking you to share,” he corrected. He thought the point of all this was to find who was responsible, not participate in a competition. “We’re both part of the same team.” He couldn’t be that naive. “Detective, not even different divisions of the same department are on the same team, and in case you haven’t noticed, you’re with the police department and I belong to the fire department. Big difference,” she concluded.
He followed her statement to its logical conclusion. “So to you, this is a competition?” He wouldn’t have thought that of her, but then, he reminded himself, he really didn’t know this woman. Chemistry—and there was plenty of that—was not a substitute for knowledge.
It wasn’t a matter of competition, Kansas thought defensively, it was a matter of sharing information with someone she trusted. Right now, she had no basis for that. Moreover, she didn’t trust this man any further than she could throw him.
“To me, Detective, you’re basically a stranger—”
He finished the statement for her. “And your mother taught you never to speak to strangers, right?”
One would think, after all these years, the word mother wouldn’t create such a feeling of emptiness and loss within her. But it did.
“I’m sure she would have if I’d had one,” Kansas answered, her voice distant. He looked as if he was going to say something apologetic, so she quickly went on. “What I’m saying is that you’re an unknown quantity and I haven’t got time to waste, wondering if you have some kind of ulterior motive…or if I can confide in you because you’re really one of those pure-hearted souls who believes in truth, justice and the American way.”
“I think a red cape and blue tights would go with that,” he responded dryly. “Me, I’m not that noble. I just want to put this son of a bitch away before he hurts someone else—and if I have to work with the devil or share the stage with him to do it, I will.”
There was only one conclusion to be drawn from that. For the second time, Kansas rose to her feet, her hands on her hips. “So now I’m the devil?” she demanded.
He looked surprised that she would come to that conclusion. “No, I didn’t say that. You really are something,” he freely admitted, “but devil isn’t the word that readily comes to mind when thinking of you.” He flashed a grin at her that shimmied up and down her spine and was totally out of place here. “I was just trying to let you know how far I’d be willing to go to catch this guy if I had to.”
His grin, she caught herself thinking, had turned utterly sexy. And he undoubtedly knew that. She’d never met a handsome man who was unaware of the kind of charisma he wielded.
“So,” Ethan was saying, “why don’t we pool our resources and see what we can accomplish together? Bring your team over to the precinct,” he encouraged.
It pained her to admit what she was about to say. “I am the team.”
“Then you won’t need to find a large car to drive over.” Ethan put his hand out to seal the bargain. “What do you say?”
She looked down at the hand he held out to her. While she preferred working on her own, the point here was to catch whoever was setting these fires and keep him—or possibly her—from doing it again. The firebug needed to be caught as quickly as possible…before actual lives were lost.
She slipped her hand into his and shook it firmly. “Okay.”
“Attagirl.” He saw a look come into her eyes he couldn’t fathom. Had she just taken that in a condescending manner? “Sorry, I didn’t mean it the way it might have sounded. Just expressing relief that I got you to come around so quickly.”
Okay, she needed to set him straight right from the beginning. “You didn’t get me to ‘come around so quickly,’ Detective. It’s just common sense. You have an entire task force devoted to tracking down this firebug.” There was a safe expression, she thought. It didn’t espouse any particular theory other than this unbalanced person felt a kinship to flames. “That means you have more resources available to you than I do. We can hopefully move forward more quickly and put an end to this sick reign of fire before someone is actually killed.”
Ethan nodded in agreement. “A woman after my own heart.”
She paused to pin him with a look that spoke volumes. Mostly it issued a warning. “Not even in your wildest dreams, Detective.”
Ethan smiled to himself. Nothing goaded him on like a challenge. Maybe, he thought, he’d get this strong-principled, “get the hell out of my way” woman to eat her words. He had a feeling that she could be a hell of a wildcat in bed.
“If you’re through here,” he said, “you’re welcome to come back to the precinct with me now and take a look at the information we’ve got.”
It was probably more than she had compiled. They had only recently been entertaining the idea that the fires were connected and the work of just one person or possibly one team.
Kansas nodded. “Okay, I just might take you up on that, Detective.”
“I do have a first name, you know.”
Kansas looked at him with the most innocent expression she could muster. “You mean it’s not ‘Detective’?”
“It’s Ethan.”
Like he was telling her something she didn’t already know. She made it a point to access all the information she could about the people whose paths she crossed. “Yes, I know. What floor are you on, Detective?” She deliberately used his title.
Ethan laughed softly under his breath. She’d come around in her own time. And if she didn’t, well, he could live with that. She wasn’t the last beautiful woman he’d ever encounter.
“Third,” he answered. “Why?”
She packed up some of the tools she’d been using to collect evidence. “Well, here’s a wild thought—so I know where I’m going.”
He looked at her quizzically. “I thought I’d take you.”
“Yes, I know,” she told him. “I’d rather take myself if it’s all the same to you. Besides, there’s something I need to do first before going to the precinct.”
He made an educated guess as to what that was. “You don’t have to run this past your captain. The chief of D’s has already cleared it with him.”
She didn’t like being second-guessed. It made her feel hemmed in. “That’s all well and good, but that’s not what I need to do first.”
She still wasn’t elaborating. “You always this vague about things?” he wondered.
Her smile widened. “Keeps people guessing.” And me safe, she added silently. Slipping the recorder she’d been using to tape her thoughts into her case, she snapped the locks into place and picked up the case. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
He had no idea if she intended to make good on that or if she was just saying it to humor him. All he knew was that he fully intended to see her again, fire or no fire.
Dax paced back and forth before the bulletin boards in the front of the room. “There’s got to be some kind of pattern here,” he insisted, staring at the three bulletin boards he’d had brought into the task force’s makeshift squad room.
Each fire had its own column with as much information as they could find listed directly beneath it. All the fires had all broken out in the last six months in and around Aurora. Other than that, there was nothing uniform and no attention-grabbing similarities about them.
And yet, he had a gut feeling that there had to be. What was he missing?
“If there is,” Ortiz commented in a lackluster tone, “I can’t s
ee it.” Rocking in his seat, Ortiz slowly sipped his extra-large container of chai tea. He drank the beverage religiously at least once a day, claiming it gave him mental clarity.
The others knew better. Especially after Ethan had pointed out that Ortiz liked to flirt with the cute dark-haired girl behind the counter who filled the detective’s order as well as his less-than-anemic imagination.
“Maybe we’re including too many fires,” Ethan speculated, gesturing at the bulletin boards with its news clippings.
“Isn’t that the point?” Youngman questioned. “These are all the fires that’ve taken place in and around Aurora in the last six months. If we don’t include all of them, we might come up with the wrong pattern.”
He knew he was playing devil’s advocate here, but they had to explore all the avenues before they found the one that would lead them to the right answer. To the man or men responsible for all that destruction.
“But maybe they weren’t all set by the same guy,” Ethan insisted. “But they were all set.”
Ethan, Dax, Youngman and Ortiz all turned to see Kansas walking into the small, cluttered room that the task force was temporarily using to cut down on any distractions from the other detectives.
She walked as if she owned the room.
“And we won’t come up with the wrong answer,” she assured them with feeling. “If we just keep talking all this out long enough, we’re going to either find the answer, which has been right in front of us all along, or stumble across something that’ll eventually lead us to the right answer.
“But one way or the other,” Kansas concluded, “we are going to get to the bottom of this.”
Her eyes swept over the four detectives. There was no mistaking the confidence in her voice.
Ethan couldn’t help wondering if she meant it, or if she was just saying that for their benefit, giving them a glimpse of her own version of whistling in the dark to keep the demons at bay.
It wouldn’t be the first time that he’d encountered female bravado. Because of his sister, Greer, he’d been raised with it. He had a gut feeling that the two women were very much alike.
Chapter 6
E than was the first to break the silence.
“My money’s still on an arsonist doing this,” he said even though he knew that the new, adjunct member of the team vehemently disagreed with this theory.
Kansas thought about holding her tongue. She was, after all, the outsider here, and arguing was not the way to become part of the team. She’d stated her point of view and should just let it go at that.
But she’d never been one to merely go with the flow. It just wasn’t part of her nature. The words seemed to come out almost of their own accord.
“Where’s the profit to be gained from burning down a church and an abused-women’s shelter that’s already pretty run-down?” she challenged.
“Real estate,” Ethan argued. “The places aren’t worth anything as they are, and there might be little or no insurance on the structures, so there’s definitely not enough money to rebuild. That would make whoever owns the property willing and maybe eager to sell.” He shrugged. “Maybe they feel that they can start somewhere else with the money they get from selling the land the property stands on.”
Kansas rolled her eyes at his explanation. “So, in your opinion, some big, bad CEO is paying someone to run around and burn down buildings in and around Aurora in order to put together a colossal shopping mall or something to that effect?”
Ethan scowled. He didn’t care for her dismissive tone. “It sounds stupid when you say it that way,” he accused.
“That’s because it is stupid—no matter which way you say it,” Kansas pointed out, happy that he got the point.
Dax literally got in between his cousin and the woman his father felt they needed to work with.
“Children, children, play nice,” he instructed, looking from one to the other to make sure that his words sank in. “And in the meantime,” he said, turning to another detective, “Ortiz, see if you can check with Records down at the civic center to see if anyone has put in for permits to start building anything of any consequence.”
“If Ortiz doesn’t find anything, it doesn’t mean the theory doesn’t hold up,” Ethan interjected.
Dax crossed his arms before his chest, striking a pose that said he was waiting for more. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“It just means that whoever it is who’s doing this hasn’t had time to properly file his intent to build whatever it is that he’s going to build,” Ethan explained. “The destroyed properties are far from desirable, so maybe he figures he has time. And the longer he takes to get to ‘step two,’ the less likely it’ll be that someone will make the connection between the arson and the motive behind it.”
Kansas supposed that O’Brien had a point. She wasn’t so married to her theory that she would stubbornly shut her eyes to exclude everything else.
“Maybe we should check out whether anyone’s bought any of the properties previously destroyed by the fires,” she suggested.
“Then you’re on board with this theory?” O’Brien asked. There was a touch of triumph in his voice that irritated her. It had her reverting to her original theory.
“No, I just want to put it to rest once and for all.” Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she continued. “I’d stake my job that this isn’t a fire-for-hire situation.” She could feel it in her bones, but she wasn’t about to say that out loud. She didn’t know these people well enough to allow them to laugh at her, even good-naturedly. “It’s some pyromaniac getting his high out of watching everyone scramble, trying to keep the fire from destroying another piece of real estate. Another person’s hopes and dreams.”
Dax was still open to all possibilities until something started to gel. “Okay, why don’t you and Youngman go check it out,” he instructed her. “Begin with the first fire on the list and work your way up.”
But Youngman shook his head. “No can do, Dax. I’ve got that dental appointment to go to. Doc says it’s going to take the better part of two hours to do the root canal.” He cupped his right cheek to underscore his situation. “I’d cancel, but I already did that once, and this thing is just killing me.”
Dax nodded. Youngman had already told him about the appointment this morning. Things were getting so hectic, he’d just forgotten. “Go. Get it seen to.” Without missing a beat, Dax turned to his cousin. “Take his place, Ethan.”
“In the dental chair?” Ethan asked hopefully.
“Very funny. You, her, go,” Dax said, nodding toward the door. “See what you can come up with that might get your theory to float.”
“An anchor comes to mind,” Kansas muttered under her breath.
Grabbing his jacket and slipping it on, Ethan shot her an annoyed look. He was going to enjoy putting her in her place. And then, once the shrew was tamed, other possibilities might open up, he mused.
“I’ll drive,” he announced as they left the squad room. He punched the down button for the elevator.
The statement was met with a careless shrug. “If it’s that important to you, I wouldn’t dream of fighting with you about it,” she murmured.
The elevator car arrived and she stepped in. He was quick to get in with her, then pressed the button for the first floor.
“It’s not important to me,” he informed her, his irritation growing. Supposedly, the woman was agreeing with him. But it was the manner in which she was agreeing that he found annoying. “It’s just that—”
She turned the most innocent expression he’d ever seen in his direction. “Yes?”
The woman was playing him. The second the steel doors parted, he all but shot out of the elevator, heading for the precinct entrance. “Never mind,” he ground out. “You want to drive? Because if you do, we’ll take your car.”
She preceded him outside. There was a soft spring breeze rustling through everything, quietly reminding them that at any moment, it could pi
ck up and fan any flames it encountered.
“You don’t trust me with your car?” she asked. Typical male, she thought.
“I don’t trust anybody with my car,” he told her. “I spent too much time, effort and money restoring her to just hand the keys over to someone else.”
Sounded like the man was obsessed with his car, she thought. The smile she raised to her lips was the embodiment of serenity. “You can drive,” she told him. “It’s okay.”
She was yanking his chain—and a few other things, as well. He led the way to his car, parked over in the third row. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re laughing at me?”
The woman looked as if she were seriously considering the question. “My first guess would be insecurity,” she said brightly.
“Your first guess would be wrong,” he retorted.
She paused before the cream-colored two-seater. She wasn’t really up on cars, but she recognized it as a classic. “It really is a beauty,” she told him.
The compliment instantly softened him. “Thanks.” He pressed the security button on his key chain and released the locks. “You have the list of sites where the fires took place?” he asked. Since she’d already gotten in on her side, he slid in behind the steering wheel—and saw that instead of buckling up, she was holding up several sheets of paper. He presumed they were the list he’d referred to. “Okay, where to first?”
“How about MacArthur and Main?” she suggested after a beat. “That’s the church,” she explained, shifting as she buckled her seat belt. “That was the second fire,” she added in case he’d forgotten.
He hadn’t. “Where that firefighter rescued the visiting priest from Spain. The priest was sleeping in Father Colm’s room,” he recalled.
She vividly remembered all the details of that one. Daring, last-minute rescues like that always tugged on her heartstrings. “There was footage of the old priest being carried out of the burning building.”
The media, always hungry for something to sink its teeth into, carried the story for days, and the morning talk shows vied for the exclusive rights to being the first to interview both the firefighter and the priest, sitting in the studio side by side.