Tender Is The Night (21 page)

A light entered his eyes. "That's right. We have the fundraiser at the bookstore."

"There's a lot to do, Devin. We are not done by any stretch of the imagination."

He surprised her by putting his arm around her and pulling her down for a kiss. "You're right," he said. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"Any time."

"You made me feel better. Now it's my turn."

"It was your turn last time."

"So I get two turns." His hand ran down her bare back. "Are you complaining?"

"God, no," she said, already turned on. "Then we get back to work."

Fifteen

After another hour of mind-blowing fun in bed with Devin, Kate took a quick shower and then headed into the kitchen to make breakfast while Devin got dressed. Thinking about Devin made her smile.

Who would have thought the man who had tried so hard to get rid of her now had trouble keeping his hands off her?

She felt a little smug about that thought. But the truth was she had just as much trouble keeping her hands off him. It wasn't just the chemistry between them, either. There were already probably far too many emotions involved, at least on her part, but then she'd never been good at separating sex from feeling. She just didn't get naked with people she didn't care about.

But she needed to put a rein on her feelings when it came to Devin. They were ships passing in the night. There was no future plan. They didn't even live in the same city. Another week together and then who knew when they'd see each other? She couldn't let herself like him too much.

She just had a feeling she might have already crossed that line.

So she'd step back. She could do that.

Devin would probably do the same. It wasn't like he wanted anything that required commitment.

They were on the same page.

She just wished that thought made her feel a little happier.

Turning her attention to the refrigerator, she was happy to see Devin had a fair amount of food. She grabbed eggs and vegetables and decided on a veggie scramble with turkey bacon and sourdough toast.

Devin walked into the kitchen as she was filling two plates with food.

He was barefoot, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and his dark hair was still damp. He'd shaved, making the bruises around his left eye even more apparent. He looked so damn good she could eat him for breakfast.

The smile he gave her was personal, intimate, and he followed it up by stealing a quick kiss.

"Figured I better get that in before your walls go up," he said.

"You have more walls than I do."

He grinned and grabbed a piece of bacon off the plate. "Probably true. It smells good in here. Thanks for making breakfast."

"I was hungry." She handed him a full plate. "You had all the ingredients; I just put them together."

"Better than I could have. I'm impressed."

"Finally, I've impressed you. Stop the clock," she said wryly.

He grinned. "This isn't the first time you impressed me. Last night, you—"

"I don't want to talk about last night," she said, heading over to the kitchen table where she'd set out silverware, napkins and glasses of orange juice.

"That's unusual. Most women love to talk about last night."

"Not me. I'm good. I'm moving on."

Her words didn't seem to sit that well with him. His smile faded a little. "Good to know."

"You're moving on, too," she said quickly. "I mean, it's back to business, right?"

"Of course."

His agreement didn't sit that well with her now. "Devin, maybe we should talk."

"Nope. You had your chance," he said, taking a bite of his eggs. "These taste as good as they look."

"I'm glad."

They ate quietly for a few moments. When they'd finished, she said, "I was thinking I might run over to Emma's house this morning and see if she has any more information on last night's fire."

Devin nodded. "That's a good idea. Although, it's not really morning."

She looked at the clock. He was right. It was one o'clock in the afternoon. "I had no idea."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"I can do it on my own. I know you want to work on researching the partial plate you got last night. I'll be back in an hour."

"Sure. I'd offer you my car, but it's totaled."

"I'll get a cab. What are you going to do for a car?"

"Call my insurance company and get a rental. I should probably do that now. One of us is going to need a vehicle. We're not going to catch the arsonist from a taxi."

She had a feeling they were going to need more than a car to catch the arsonist, but she didn't feel like pointing out what Devin already knew. She took her plate to the sink.

"I'll do the dishes," Devin said, following her into the kitchen.

"Okay."

He put a hand on her arm as she was about to walk past him. "Kate, last night was amazing.
You
were amazing. Just for the record."

She smiled happily. "I feel the same way. But...it can't happen again. There's nowhere for us to go with this, and we have other things to concentrate on."

He shrugged. "We'll see."

Her heart skipped a beat at his answer. She'd expected him to completely agree with her, not leave her with that tantalizing statement. "What does that mean?"

"It means, we'll see."

"It's not just up to you. I have a say in the matter."

"Well, if you ever want to say yes again, let me know, and then we'll see."

She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible." She yanked her arm away from him and walked across the room and grabbed her bag off the table.

"But you still like me," he said.

"How could I like someone as arrogant and annoying as you?"

He laughed. "Beats the hell out of me."

She turned and left the apartment, wondering exactly the same thing.

* * *

Emma opened her door, wearing yoga pants, a tank top and a tired smile. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you today, Kate. Come in."

"Did you get any sleep?" Kate asked, as she entered Emma's apartment.

"A few hours. I was just making a salad for lunch. Do you want something to eat?"

"No, thanks, I just ate." She smiled at the tall, dark-haired man who was sitting at the kitchen table, a laptop in front of him. "Hi, Max."

Emma's husband got up and gave her a hug. "Kate, nice to see you. It's been awhile."

"Since Burke's wedding, I think."

"And now you're back for your sister's wedding. At least, all this love going around keeps the family in contact," he drawled.

"It does do that," she agreed.

"Have a seat," he said. "Emma has kept me up to date on what's going on. I've also been looking into Rick Baines for you. Emma suggested that there might be a connection between the recent fire at St. Bernadette's and some of Baines's former classmates."

She nodded. "We went through the yearbooks, found a couple of people who were in pictures with Mr. Baines, but unfortunately they have not been easy to locate. What did you find out?"

"Not a lot. I went through the old case files, read some of the initial interviews conducted both by the police department and the FBI. I decided to make a few calls and follow up on some of those witnesses, see if anyone remembers anything differently a year later."

She was surprised Max had taken things so far but she really shouldn't be. When family was involved, the Callaways went the extra step. Max might only be a Callaway by marriage, but he'd been around long enough to know the drill. "Who did you talk to?" she asked.

"Malcolm Homer. He was one of the four men who lived with Baines. He's since moved out of that apartment and lives in a studio. He said that he barely knew Baines. They'd occasionally talk while making coffee in the morning. The only friend he remembered Baines talking about was an old high school friend."

"Did he give a name?"

Max shook his head. "No, but he said that Baines had a new energy about him in the weeks before his death, that he said something about his old friend reminding him of his dream of becoming a firefighter, so he was looking into it again. He wanted to get out of the gym and get the job he'd always wanted."

Emma joined them at the table with her salad. "That's not news, Max. That's why everyone latched on to Rick Baines as the arsonist. He had recently applied for the fire academy and rejected firefighters are often part of an arson profile."

"That's true," Kate said. "But I'm more interested in who the high school friend was, because I think he could be the key."

"The roommate told me that Baines used to go to a bar called Rebel, Rebel in the Mission," Max said. "I haven't had a chance to check it out yet, but that might be a place for you to start."

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."