Lancelot's Lady (39 page)

"
Well, well. What have we here?
"
the man drawled sarcastically.
"
Uh, ma
'
am? The fire is out now. There
'
s no need for that mask.
"

The firefighter was over six feet tall—a lumbering, magnificent personification of man. He had eyelashes that most women would die for, and eyes that were such an unusual pale shade of blue that she wondered if he had visited a SEE office. A jagged scar intercepted his right brow, narrowly missing his eye. A slight cleft in his chin gave him an air of stubbornness. Dark wavy hair clung to his head and she couldn
'
t help but wonder what it would feel like to run her fingers through those curls.

Jasi held his gaze while she examined him like a lab specimen in a jar. Built like a tank, she thought.

"
I think maybe you
'
re a bit lost, ma
'
am,
"
he said, his lip curling disdainfully.

He turned toward the men, brushing her off like an annoying wasp at a barbecue.

She stared at the back of his head and then flipped her badge.
"
That
'
s Agent McLellan, not
ma
'
am
. Where
'
s the chief?
"
Her voice was cool, her eyes unwavering.

"
Whoo-eee!
"
the man whistled when he caught sight of her ID.
"
An agent with an attitude. How rare!
"

He shifted so that he was standing in front of her. Behind him, some of the men snickered loudly.

Jasi
'
s smile was deadly sweet.
"
Listen, you arrogant asshole. When I find the chief and report you I
'
ll have you on desk duty for a month. Now where is he?
"

The man
'
s eyes snared hers, turning her knees to mush.

Suddenly he reached for her arm, gripped it firmly and led her away from the laughing eyes of the firefighters. She felt the heat of his fingers through her jacket, branding her as his possession.

Natassia nudged her sharply.
"
Jas
—
"

"
Shh!
"
Jasi interrupted her, glaring up at the man whose tanned fingers still curled around her upper arm.
"
I could have you up on charg—
"

"
Check out his shoulder patch!
"
Natassia hissed.

Jasi glanced down. Then her eyes found the patch.

Walsh, Chief of Arson Investigations
.

Her eyes traveled back to the man
'
s face. His expression was dark and smug. For a second her composure flickered. There was something annoyingly attractive about the man.

But damned if she would let
that
cloud her judgement.

"
Brandon Walsh, at your service,
"
he said blandly, interrupting her thoughts.
"
AI
Chief
Walsh, that is.
"

Jasi ignored his outstretched hand and felt her temper rising when his eyes scoped Natassia
'
s hip-hugging jeans and tight blouse.
Men!

When he turned to issue a command to the firefighters, Jasi couldn
'
t restrain the snicker that erupted from her throat. The back of the man
'
s fire jacket was well worn. The lettering in some places was covered with black scorch marks.

Walsh, Chief of Ars In stig tions
.

"
Arse, all right,
"
she muttered under her breath.

Abruptly, Walsh turned, piercing her with a frigid stare. Then he frowned and jerked his head.

"
This way,
Agent
McLellan.
"

"
Now isn
'
t he a fabulous piece of work?
"
Natassia mumbled in her ear.
"
Check out the size of those hands.
"

"
Natassia!
"

Although Jasi had to admit, his hands were well shaped—like the rest of him.

Beside her, Natassia giggled beneath her breath.
"
You know what they say about large hands—
"

"
Shhh! Wouldn
'
t want him to hear you. It might go to his head.
"

And that
'
s big enough already!

She followed Walsh to a table standing beneath the shade of a tent.

He pulled out a chair beside his, offering it to her.

"
You gonna tell me why you
'
re wearing that mask?
"

Jasi
'
s eyes fastened on his and she took the chair across from him instead.
"
Allergies.
"

Walsh watched her for a long moment.
"
As the AI Chief, I
'
ve been informed of your…uh, special team. I wasn
'
t given much info though.
"

"
What have you got so far on the victim?
"

"
We
'
ve only received a few of the reports. Dr. Norman Washburn, age fifty-eight. He
'
s the only victim. The fire originated in his livingroom where Washburn was tied to his recliner with IV tubing.
"

"
Time of death?
"

"
Estimated TOD, one to two a.m.,
"
Walsh replied.
"
We believe he died from smoke inhalation. We
'
ll know for sure when the autopsy
'
s in.
"

"
What about neighbors? Anyone see anything?
"

Walsh shook his head.
"
The cabins are separated by trees and bushes. He had no immediate neighbors.
"

"
Did you ask around?
"
she asked impatiently.

"
Listen,
"
he said glibly.
"
I
'
m well aware that we
'
ve been ordered by the CFBI to cooperate with your team, but personally, I think AI is capable of handling this ourselves. And I don
'
t really buy into the whole psychic thing.
"

She detected a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Jasi bit back her reply, frustrated.

She was sick and tired of having to defend herself—and her team. This wasn
'
t the first time that someone had questioned the PSI
'
s value.

"
Chief Walsh, we
'
ve got two fires, three murder victims and few leads to go on. We
'
re here to aid this investigation, not hamper it. You
'
re not too macho to take help wherever you can get it, are you?
"

Walsh laughed.
"
Macho? Now there
'
s an outdated term.
"

Jasi refitted her oxy-mask.

She desperately wished she could tear it off her face and rip into the man before her. His attitude grated on her and left her feeling uneasy.

Walsh pointed to a Qwazi laptop and touched the screen with a stylus.

"
Here
'
s the data from the X-Disc. Have a seat and read through it. And yes, we asked around. No one saw anything. I
'
ll go check on the other agent. Where
'
d he go, anyway?
"

"
Agent Roberts is busy drafting up a rough profile and arranging for transport to the scene,
"
Natassia spoke up for the first time.

"
Upload the data, Natassia,
"
Jasi ordered.
"
I
'
ll
go check on Ben.
"

She cast a warning look in the AI Chief
'
s direction.
"
I
'
m counting on your support. Don
'
t get in my way, Walsh.
"

The man raised a well-shaped eyebrow.
"
I have no intention of getting in
your
way. Just stay out of mine.
"

She clenched her teeth.
"
Trust me, I
'
d be happy to stay away from you.
"

"
Jesus, thanks. I think. And here I thought I was irresistible.
"

Jasi huffed in exasperation.

The man was insufferable. The sooner she finished her job here, the sooner she could put Brandon Walsh out of her mind.

Walsh accompanied her outside, and slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses.

"
Need anything else?
"
she asked tightly.

"
Yeah. What
'
s Agent Prushenko
'
s role?
"

"
She
'
s a Victim Empath.
"

The man stared blankly, his lip curling in disbelief.

"
She picks up vibrations—pictures from the victims,
"
she explained.

"
Usually she sees their final moments.
"

"
Yeah, right,
"
he scoffed.

Jasi gripped Walsh
'
s arm, her eyes flashing angrily.

"
Agent Prushenko has empathic abilities, whether you believe in them or not. She
'
s been a PSI for eight years, traveled worldwide and is recognized as one of the best VE
'
s in the CFBI.
"

She wanted to slug the man.

Walsh grinned.
"
What about you?
"

"
I
'
ve been with PSI for almost six years. That
'
s all you need to know.
"

"
What do
you
do?
"

"
She reads fires,
"
Natassia interjected, poking her head from the tent.

Wordlessly, Jasi glared at her partner.

"
He needs to know, Jasi. Otherwise he
'
s useless.
"

Brandon Walsh—useless?

Jasi hid a sly grin.
"
I can usually tell you where and how a fire started. Sometimes I pick up the perp
'
s last thoughts or the last thing he saw.
"

"
She
'
s a Pyro-Psychic,
"
Natassia bragged.
"
Jasi is the best there is.
"

"
Jasi?
"
Walsh smirked.

"
That
'
s
Agent
McLellan to you!
"
Jasi snapped.

She
'
d make Natassia pay for that slip-up.

Oops
, Natassia mouthed silently, raising her open hands in the air.

"
Time for you to leave, Walsh,
"
Jasi said rudely.
"
I
'
m sure there
'
s something out there for the Chief of AI to do. Just remember we
'
re running the show here.
"