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“Really? He told me he’d gone out with Tracy, but he never said how much he liked her.”

“Maybe he didn’t tell you everything.”

“He did,” she insisted. “We told each other everything.”

“Kenzie, you didn’t tell him when we were going out. Maybe-”

“No.” She shook her head. “You’re going to say he kept secrets. That he kept the arsons a secret, but he wouldn’t have-He wouldn’t have done this, Aidan. Tracy being killed, well that’s got to be a terrible coincidence.”

“I’m beginning to believe that nothing’s a coincidence. Look at the next entry.”

Tracy’s going to get me a list of people who’ve purchased the trash cans, but she has to wait until the weekend when her boss isn’t in.

The next entry didn’t clear anything up, but made it all worse.

Got the list, and holy shit. Blood is thicker than water. Got to remember that…

Kenzie’s fingers dug into Aidan’s arm. “What does that mean, ‘blood is thicker than water’? He’s written that twice now.”

Aidan frowned and shook his head. “I wish I knew.”

He’s onto me. Need to be damn careful now.

Who’s onto him?” Kenzie stood up and paced the length of the bedroom. “God. Whoever he’s talking about, do you think…?”

Yeah. Yeah, he did. Blake had gotten himself into hot water with someone. And that someone had either been his partner in crime, or, as Aidan was coming to believe, it was the person whom Blake had been privately, quietly, investigating on his own.

And if that was true, and Blake had been a victim, then this other person had not only been an arsonist, but also a murderer.

Aidan’s cell phone chirped with a message that he was needed at work, ASAP.

“Go,” she murmured. “It’s okay. I’m just going to go through all of this and see what else I can find.”

“Stay here.”

Her gaze slid to his.

“Kenzie…” How to say this without sounding like a complete idiot? There was no way to sugarcoat it, so he decided to just let it out. “I have a bad feeling.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You, the most pragmatic, logical, cool person I know, have a bad feeling?

“Go with me on this.”

“You think I’m in danger,” she said flatly.

He didn’t just think it, he knew it. Only he couldn’t explain how or why, and that was going to drive him crazy, along with worrying and wondering where she was and if she was okay.

And safe.

And alive.

“Aidan, I’m not going to hole up here. That’s ridiculous. Besides, no one knows what I’m doing.”

“You were arrested, Kenzie. Everyone knows what you’re doing.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Short of tying her up, which had a most interesting vision popping into his head, what could he do? “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her hair still crazy from his fingers, her shirt crooked, her feet bare, looking like a hot mess.

A hot mess he wanted in his life.

“I thought we weren’t going to do the promise thing,” she said. “Not ever again.”

“Promise me,” he said again.

“Don’t worry.” She backed away from him, her face so carefully blank. “I intend to be careful and smart, and I intend to get out of here unscathed, on all counts.”

What the hell did that mean?

“See you, Aidan.”

Okay, that was no simple “I’ll see you later.” It seemed like a we’re-done-doing-the-naked-happy-dance see-you. The get-over-me because I’m-over-you see-you.

Which didn’t bode well for his heart, the one that in spite of himself, had gotten attached. Again. More attached, if that was even possible. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

“I will.” He paused. “Will you be here?”

She met his gaze. “I don’t know.”

Well, hell. That didn’t bode well.

15

IN BETWEEN CALLS, Aidan slipped into the office of the fire station. He’d never spent much time in there, always preferring to be outside or working, or just about anywhere else.

But he made himself comfortable now. He told whoever gave him a strange look that he was working on his taxes, and given the sympathetic grimaces that got him, it was a genius excuse. Left alone, he went through the daily fire reports and employee schedules, pulling the dates that matched the arsons.

Which is where he discovered that those schedules did not match the ones Blake had saved on his computer.

In fact, according to the office reports, Blake had been scheduled on each of the days of the arsons, whether by coincidence or design, Aidan had no idea. Dispatch didn’t always need all available units to go out on the calls. On two of the fires, Blake’s unit hadn’t been called to respond at all and yet he’d been placed on scene by witnesses.

Had he been the arsonist, or simply trying to stop him?

The door to the office opened and Aidan turned around, the excuse already on his lips about being late getting his receipts together-

“Save it,” Tommy said, and dropped a disk on the table.

“What’s that?”

“A copy of the surveillance tape I got out of the camera I had at Blake’s place.”

“You had Blake’s place under surveillance?”

“I’m an investigator. It’s what I do, investigate.”

“What were you looking for?”

“There’s a bigger, better question. What was Kenzie looking for?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“Couldn’t, or won’t?”

Aidan didn’t respond to that.

“You’re doing a shitty job of keeping her out of my hair.”

Yeah. He was doing a shitty job keeping Kenzie out of his hair as well.

“Okay, here’s how this is going to work,” Tommy decided. “You’re going to tell me everything you’ve discovered about these arsons and Blake, and in return, I’m not going to charge you with interfering with my investigation.”

Aidan didn’t care about the underlying threat in Tommy’s voice. What he cared about was discovering the truth. For Blake. For Kenzie. And as big a pain in his ass as Tommy was, Aidan believed them to be on the same side.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

With a nod, Tommy locked the door and pulled up a chair.

KENZIE HAD NO PROBLEM keeping herself occupied. She spent the day reading Blake’s files, poring over them, analyzing each of her brother’s entries.

She slept in Aidan’s big, wonderful bed all by herself, which wasn’t nearly as much fun as sleeping next to the big, wonderful man usually in it. Her dreams were wild, vacillating between nightmares about being trapped in a fire and hearing Blake scream for her, and another type of dream entirely. A dream where Aidan slowly stripped her naked and used his tongue on every inch of her body, a dream she woke up from damp with sweat, panting for air, her own hand between her thighs.

Damn, the man was potent.

In the morning, she went back to Blake’s Girl. She couldn’t help herself. She stood on the end of the dock staring at the shell that used to be Blake’s sailboat, a huge lump inside her throat, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do next when her cell phone rang. Her local caller.

“Did you get the backups?”

“Who is this?”

“You need to stay away from the boat. There’s nothing there for you.”

With a gasp, she whirled, searching her immediate area but seeing no one. “Where are you? Are you watching me?”

“Don’t be scared.”