The parking lot had only three cars in it, no people. No one was on the docks, and the neighboring boats seemed deserted. “Don’t be scared? Are you crazy?”
“Listen to me,” he said urgently. “It’s time for you to back off. Time for you to go home, Kenzie.”
The hair at the back of her neck prickled and she once again turned slowly. Behind one of the three cars was another.
Gray. Tinted windows.
Eyes narrowed, she headed toward it, needing to know who the hell she was talking to and why his voice made the hair on her arms stand up, as if she could almost recognize him, but not quite.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned.
She kept walking. “Do I know you?”
The car’s engine started up.
“No,” she cried, breaking into a run. “Wait-”
The gray sedan squealed forward and to the right, giving her only the briefest glimpse of the driver behind the wheel. But it was enough to have her gasp in shock as her chest tightened beyond all bearing.
The car ripped out of the lot. She hardly even noticed as she hit her knees on the concrete, her hands fanned over her chest to hold her heart in because she’d have sworn, she’d have laid her life on the line, that the driver of that car had been none other than her dead brother.
Blake.
SHE SPED ALL THE WAY BACK to Aidan’s house before remembering he was at work. Still shaken, she turned around and headed to the station. Zach was there, standing in the middle of the main room. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and a rueful smile as he stuck a pencil down the cast on his arm.
“This thing is driving me crazy.” He tossed the pencil to a small desk against a wall. “You looking for Aidan?”
“Yes.” Because she wanted to tell him her brother wasn’t dead. Or that she was losing her mind. One or the other.
“He’s on a call.” Zach took a closer look at her and frowned. “Are you okay?”
No. “I saw the file you put together on the arsons.” The fires had cost Zach his house, which in itself would have given him a good reason to hate her brother. “When Blake died, there wasn’t a body.”
A shadow crossed his face. “The fire was hot. Nothing survived it.”
She begged to differ. “Anything survive? Anything at all?”
“A portion of the shell of the blow torch Blake had been holding, and his hard hat.”
“But no physical evidence of him?”
He paused a long moment. “Why?”
Oh, because maybe he hadn’t really died… “Do you know when Aidan’ll be back?”
“No, but I can have him call you. He was worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” She smiled to prove it, but truthfully, she was worried, too. She left the station, got into her car and pulled out her cell. Taking a deep breath, she dialed her mysterious caller’s number.
“Hello.”
Kenzie went utterly still at that voice, still disguised, but it didn’t matter. She now knew who she was talking to. “Blake?”
Click.
Oh, God. Heart pounding, she drove straight to Tommy Ramirez’s office. He opened his door at her knock, raising a single eyebrow at the sight of her, then simply sighed when she pushed past him and let herself in.
He had three unopened Red Bulls on his desk. She grabbed one, cracked it open and drank deeply. Eyes closed, she stood there until the caffeine kicked in. “God, I needed that.”
He shut the door, leaned back against it and just looked at her. “That was my Red Bull.”
“Thanks for sharing.”
“You know, most people are afraid of me.”
“Yes, but most people don’t know that once upon a time you paid for my dancing lessons.”
“Keep it down, will you? I don’t want that to get out.”
She shook her head. “Always the tough guy.” Back when Blake had been in the academy, she and her brother had made some financial mistakes. Lots of financial mistakes. Tommy had known Blake’s situation and had lent him some money to see him through fire school, and Kenzie enough to cover her dance lessons.
Not many knew the investigator had such a soft side; he didn’t like to show it. He hadn’t shown it to Kenzie since, but she’d never forgotten. Nor had she ever even briefly considered that it could be Tommy framing Blake. Blake had trusted Tommy, and she did, too.
Tommy tossed the files in his hands to his desk and grabbed one of the remaining Red Bulls. “I put you in jail to keep you safe. I didn’t intend for you to bail yourself out. I wanted to keep you there until this was over, but it’s taking longer than I thought.”
“You put me in jail to keep me safe?”
“Trust me, it made sense to me. Look, I know this has been hard on you.”
“Yes,” she agreed blandly. “It’s been hard on me having my brother blamed for something he didn’t do. It’s been hard on me knowing that all his friends, his coworkers, everyone, believes he committed arson. It’s hard on me knowing that he can’t defend himself. But it’s even harder knowing that you’re not.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then help me to.”
He opened his mouth, and then shut it. “I can’t.”
“Would you like to know what the hardest thing of all is?” she whispered, her throat tight with a sudden need to cry. “I know he’s innocent and I know that you believe it, too.”
“Kenzie-”
“You can’t talk about it, I get it. But I think I saw Blake alive. Can you talk about that?”
He stared at her. “What?”
“I think I saw him at the docks, in the parking lot.”
Tommy sank to his chair. “What were you doing at the docks?”
“Blake. Alive. Did you hear that part?”
His eyes filled with sympathy. “Kenzie-”
“No.” She let out a low laugh. “Listen to me. I saw him. Plus someone’s been calling me, giving me clues. It’s him, he-”
“What kind of clues?”
“I don’t know, that the key is in the demos, which I don’t get. And that blood is thicker than water. I don’t get that either, honestly.”
Tommy went pale. He came to her, taking her arm and leading her to the door. “I need you to listen to me, okay? Listen very carefully. Go back to Los Angeles. I’ll call you-”
“No.” She pulled free. “I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are. If I have to have you arrested again-”
“On what charges?”
“I’ll find something.”
She looked into his face, where his emotions were clear. “Okay, you’re scared for me. I get that. I’ll stay back, I’ll stay clear.”
“Promise me.”
She took a long look at him. “What did I say? Was it the blood is thicker than water thing?”
“Promise me.”
“I promise,” she said very quietly. “Now you promise me this. You’ll come to me as soon as you can with answers.”
“Deal.”
DURING THE SUMMER MONTHS, Santa Rey swelled to upwards of three times its normal population, which was reflected in the increased volume of calls the fire station received. In the past twenty-four hours alone, Aidan had fought a restaurant fire, a storefront fire, a car fire and two house fires, each caused by human stupidity. Then, it happened.
Another explosion.
It thankfully occurred in an empty warehouse this time. No one was injured, except Cristina, who fell off a ladder and hurt her ankle.
Dustin wanted to take her to the E.R. for an X-ray, but in typical Cristina fashion, she wanted to tough it out.
Aidan left them alone to their silent battle of wills, and let himself inside the burned shell of a warehouse.
Tommy was there, with his bag of equipment, his camera out. When he saw Aidan, he jaw ticked. “I’ve got it from here.”
Aidan’s eyes went to the wall in front of Tommy, where the burn marks on the wall indicated a hot flash, and most likely, the point of origin. “I never did get onto Blake’s Girl after the explosion. But I’m going to take a wild guess that you found something like this there, and also at the hardware explosion that killed Tracy.”