Tender Is The Night (2 page)

Devin flipped the locks on a silver SUV. He opened the passenger door and grabbed a sweatshirt, two empty water bottles, and a couple of books and tossed them into the backseat. She noticed two of those books were on fire investigation. She had a feeling he was an expert in the subject by now.

She slid into her seat and fastened her seat belt while Devin got in behind the wheel. "So tell me about the case," she said, as he started the car.

"How much do you know?"

"Not a lot. I only got the assignment this morning. I did a quick read-through, and I know that your partner, Agent Samantha Parker, was profiling a serial arsonist when she died in a fire with the man believed to be the arsonist—Rick Baines, a wanna-be firefighter."

"Baines didn't do it," Devin said flatly, not a hint of doubt in his voice.

"There appeared to be a great deal of evidence against him."

"He matched a general profile, but not the one Sam was working on. He didn't do it," Devin repeated. "The real killer is still out there, and he's going to strike again."

She thought about his words and the other piece of information that Agent Roman had given her before she left. "I was told that you thought you had a lead eight months ago and that it didn't pan out."

He shot her a dark look. "That doesn't mean I'm wrong now."

It might not mean that, but it certainly hadn't helped his cause. "Why did you leave the Bureau?"

"I'm sure they told you why. I needed time to work the case."

"That's why you're now tracking cheating husbands?"

"Yes. It pays the bills and gives me the time and the freedom to find Sam's killer."

"Were you and Agent Parker involved?"

The anger that came off him at her question heated up the air between them. His intense glare instinctively made her edge toward the door.

"No," he said, his voice tight, as if he were fighting for control. "She was my partner and my friend. She was also a loyal agent, and she deserves justice."

Despite his words, she felt like there was a more emotional connection between him and his partner than he was saying. But she changed the subject. "Tell me why you're so sure the man who was found in the house wasn't the killer."

"Because Sam left me a message right before she went to the scene. She was excited about a new clue she'd discovered."

"What was that?"

"She didn't say, but she did say we'd been on the wrong track, that everything made sense now, that the profile we'd been working was completely wrong."

"That sounds very general."

"Unfortunately, yes. She said she would tell me more when we met. She gave me an address and said 'see you soon.'" He let out a heavy breath. "That was the last thing she ever said to me. I played her message for everyone to hear, but it wasn't enough to convince anyone that Baines wasn't the right guy."

"Maybe she got it wrong," Kate said tentatively. "Maybe Baines
was
the guy. He was there. He died with her."

His jaw tightened. "She didn't get it wrong."

"What aren't you telling me? You would need more than a phone message to go against the entire Bureau."

"There's a hell of a lot more," he agreed. "But it's going to have to wait. We're here."

He pulled into a parking spot across the street from a seedy-looking bar named Allure. But it wasn't just a bar, she realized; it was also a strip club.
Great. Just what she wanted to do on a Wednesday night.
"That's the place?"

"That's it."

"What are you going to do?" she asked curiously.

"Take photos of the cheater for his wife."

"And then what?"

"Give them to her in exchange for a nice wad of cash."

"I mean—what is she going to do with the pictures?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. Don't care. Not my job to ask."

"I can't understand how a man trained to ask questions wouldn't want to ask
that
question. What if she's blackmailing him? Or setting him up in some way?"

"She just wants to know if he's lying to her. And I can already tell you—he is."

"You've followed him before?"

"No, I ran his credit cards. He comes here twice a week, on Monday nights when his wife is at her book club and on Wednesday nights when she goes to Pilates. He's, of course, allegedly working late."

"Where does he work?"

"An advertising agency. He's an account manager."

"How long have they been married?"

"Seven years."

"Does the wife work?"

"She does. She developed a line of popular skin care products that she sells online. Apparently, her business is quite robust."

Kate thought about that. "It sounds like she's more successful than he is. Maybe that's why he's cheating. He can't stand that his wife is doing better than him. I know men like that."

Devin sent her a speculative look. "Are you speaking from personal experience?"

"Of course not," she said quickly, realizing she had let a little of her personal past creep into their conversation. "Just saying he sounds selfish."

"Most people who cheat
are
selfish."

"I suppose. But you don't actually know if he is cheating. He might be watching the strippers but not actually doing anything."

"I doubt it."

"You really think you know everything, don't you? Yet, you were wrong about why I came to your office."

He frowned. "For about thirty seconds."

She smiled. "You hate to be wrong, don't you?"

"I'm guessing you share the same attitude."

"Well, so far tonight you're the only one who has been wrong, so I don't actually know what being wrong feels like."

"You're wrong if you think chasing Sam's killer is a pointless exercise."

She met his gaze. "I haven't made that assumption yet. I'm still gathering the facts."

As he reached for the door handle, she frowned and said, "Wait. Where are you going? I thought we were watching the door."

"We'll wait for him inside. It's more comfortable, and I could use a drink."

"You drink on the job?"

"One of the perks of working for myself now. Come on, I'll buy you a beer." He paused. "You're not going to tell me you don't drink, are you?"

"Since I met you twenty minutes ago, I've actually been thinking a lot about having a drink—or two," she said dryly.

For the first time, a glimmer of a smile crossed his lips. "I'd like to tell you that feeling will go away once you get to know me."

"But it won't?"

"Looks like we're going to find out."

Two

Okay, so Kate Callaway was not only attractive, she was also quick-witted and a bit of a smart ass. Maybe the Bureau had finally decided to hire some people who didn't have to do everything by the book.

On the other hand, she could be playing him. Hal had obviously sent her to assess the situation as an impartial, objective party. Kate needed to make friends with him so she could determine if he was as crazy as everyone thought he was. While it might be amusing to crank up the crazy for her, he had more important priorities, like finding Sam's killer.

The darkness of that thought squeezed his heart. It had been a year and a half since she'd died, since he'd let her down, but the pain felt as raw and as real as if it were yesterday. Breathing through the sudden tightness in his chest, he opened the door for Kate and waved her inside the club.

She gave him a surprised look, as if that gesture of chivalry was completely out of character. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who'd made a quick judgment.

He led her over to a table at the back of the room. A dozen or so people were in the bar, and mostly seated near the center stage, where a busty redhead was performing.

A quick scan of the room told him that the man he was waiting for had not yet arrived. Usually Russell Walton hit the club between six and seven, so he should be walking in sometime in the next hour.

"What does he look like?" Kate asked. "The man we're waiting for."

He pulled up a photo on his phone and showed it to her.

"Good-looking guy," she said. "I wouldn't think he'd need to come to a seedy strip club to find a woman."

"Maybe this feels more private to him. His friends probably don't come here."

"What's his name?"

"Russell Walton."

"What does his wife look like?"

He flipped through a few more photos and showed her one of the couple taken at a party. "This is Brenda Walton."

"She's attractive, too. Does he really think he's going to do better here?"

He shrugged. "Can't say."

"I don't get why Brenda came to you instead of just confronting her husband or following him herself."

"She thought she'd make him suspicious and then she'd never know the truth, but I think the real reason is that she didn't want to find him with another woman."

"That wouldn't be easy, but at least she'd know for sure what was going on," Kate said.

He slipped his phone back in his pocket as a waitress came over to take their drink order. He ordered a beer, with Kate doing the same.

When they were alone again, Kate said, "So, while we're waiting…let's talk. How did you and Sam get on the arson case in the first place?"

"There had been a series of fires involving historically significant and federally owned buildings here in the city. Sam and I were called in to help with the investigation. Sam was a more experienced arson investigator than I was. She'd been working with that unit for several years."

"I was wondering how you got involved since before that you were working on domestic terrorism."

"You're right. I'd spent almost a year tracking a couple of terrorist cells around the country. We were finally able to put them away. It had been a long assignment, and I was looking for something different, a change of pace. Sam suggested I come out and work with her. At that point, there was some concern the fires were also related to terrorism, so she thought having me on the case would be helpful."

"Did you ever find a terrorist link?"

"No, I don't believe terrorism is the objective of this particular arsonist. And neither did Sam." He paused, needing Kate to understand just good Sam was. "Sam was one of the most intuitive people I've ever met. She had a sense for what made people tick. She understood motivation better than anyone. It made her a good profiler."

Kate sat back as the waitress set down two beer bottles and a small bowl of peanuts.

"Food, yay, I'm starving," Kate muttered, reaching for a handful.

"You want something else to eat?"

"This will do for now. We're not going to be here that long, are we?"

"We'll see how long it takes for Russell to show up."

"I'm surprised you take any time away from the fire case. Agent Roman told me you are very…determined."

He smiled at her careful choice of words. "Is that how he described it?"

She smiled. "He might have used a different word or two."

"I'm sure he did. I lived and breathed the case the first few months after I left the Bureau, but I had to wait for the arsonist to strike again, to come back out of whatever hole that they had crawled into. In the meantime, I had to pay my bills. So I became a private investigator."

"Why did you ask Agent Roman for help now?"

"Because the arsonist has resurfaced. Two days ago, there was a fire at a school. That's how the trio of fires always starts. They begin small; a fire in a Dumpster or a shed, not particularly dangerous but still destructive. The second fire has always taken place at a community center of some sort, usually within a three-mile radius of the school. It's bigger, bolder, hotter. The third fire is the grand finale and has always involved a structure listed on the historic register. There have been varying degrees of damage and some injuries, but the last fire took two lives."

"What does the local arson investigative unit have to say?" she asked.

"Nothing. They closed the case along with the FBI eighteen months ago. I've tried to get their attention since then. I've been down there several times. I've contacted everyone at every level in the department, and no one was willing to help. These days I can't get past the receptionist. They're not interested in what I have to say. Even after this latest fire, they wouldn't return my call. That's why I asked for Hal's help."

"Did you ever speak with my cousin—Emma Callaway Harrison? She's an arson investigator here in the city."

"No. While Sam and I were on the case, our contact was Karl Benzinger. After Sam died, I also worked with Benzinger's boss, Mick Young."

"We should talk to Emma."

"If you can get me in the door, I'd be happy to do that," he returned.

"So now you can see how helpful I might be," she said, a small smile playing across her lips.

"I'm not in the door yet."

"I want to look through every file you have before we talk to Emma."

"I'll show you everything."

"I wish we didn't have to hang out here. I'm eager to get started."

He had to admit her words were a refreshing change. "Why are you so eager?" he asked curiously. "This can't be the kind of case you want to work on. If you work for Hal Roman, then you're not involved with arson."

"No, I'm not usually, but I'm game for anything, and when I get an assignment, I dive in. It doesn't matter what it is."

"You are new," he said with a sigh. It felt like a lifetime since he'd been that enthusiastic.

"I can't change my age or how long I've been on the job. So if you want my help, you need to get over that."

"I don't believe Hal really sent you here to help me. He just wants you to confirm that there is nothing to help with. And I'm sure he sent you, Kate, because he didn't want to waste the time of a more seasoned and valuable agent."

She winced at his direct words. "Thanks for that."

"Just telling it like it is. And you already knew that."

"You're very cynical."

"You will be, too, if you stay with the Bureau. If I could give you one piece of advice, it would be to get out now before you change into someone you don't even recognize, before you lose your heart and your soul in a job that in the end is nothing more than work. You're not going to save the world. You might not even be able to save one person. You think you're living the dream, but for most people it turns into a nightmare."