Flashback

was always too lazy to go back and delete the week before, so I should have them all-” She stared at him for a beat before whipping back to the computer. Her fingers raced over the keys as he bent his head close to hers, looking at what she brought up.

An entire list of arson-related backup files from Blake, starting shortly after the first suspicious fires, until the day before he died.

“So,” she said slowly. “Either he was a damned stupid felon, or he was investigating the arsons himself.”

Her tone made it clear which she believed.

“Or,” he said softly, knowing she was going to hate him. “He’s keeping track of the arsons for a partner.”

She looked at him again, her eyes cooling to, oh, about thirty-five degrees below zero.

“Open the first file.”

Without a word, she clicked on it. It was a Word document, a diary of notes with a running commentary. The first read:

Hill Street fire:

Second point of origin mysteriously vanished on day of cleanup. Wire metal trash can, unique enough in design that it should be traceable. When I mentioned this to the chief, he said I should stick to fighting fires.

Kenzie read the entry out loud, twice, then scrolled down to the next entry, several weeks later.

Blood is thicker than water. I was told that today and apparently need to remember it. If I want to live.

Kenzie whipped her gaze to Aidan. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Sounds like a threat,” he said grimly.

“Blood is thicker than water,” she repeated. “Who is he talking about? We have no family. At least no family who cares about us, anyway.”

He hated the look on her face, the faraway, distant, self-protective look she got whenever she had to talk about her past. There was no doubt, she and Blake had had it rough growing up, being shuffled from one foster home to another. The saving grace was that they’d been kept together. It was what had made their bond so strong-they’d been all each other had had. “Is there possibly a blood relative somewhere?”

“A few, scattered here and there across the country. A great-aunt in Florida, an uncle in Chicago, a cousin in Dallas…” She crossed her arms, closing him out mentally and physically. “Just no one who wanted us.”

Gently he turned her to face him. “Could he be talking about you, then?”

“Definitely not. We were in touch all during that time, but we never had a conversation about any of this.”

Aidan went back to reading the entries, one of which mentioned employee hours. Copies of the schedules were attached. So was Blake keeping track of his alibi, or someone’s whereabouts?

Blake had somehow gotten Tommy’s first official reports on the arsons as well. Aidan and Kenzie discovered that he hadn’t been on duty at any of the suspicious fires, a fact that Tommy had apparently considered evidence since it left Blake without an alibi for when the fires had been lit. Aidan scrolled down the list.

“Whoa, stop.” Kenzie pointed to the second fire. “There. That one can’t be right. He had an alibi for that one, he was with me. He’d come to Los Angeles that week. I remember because he was my date for the Emmys. He flew home immediately after, catching a red-eye because he said he had to be back at work for an early shift.”

“Okay.” Aidan pulled up the employee schedule for that day. “But he’s not listed as on duty.”

Kenzie stared at the screen, shaking her head. “He wouldn’t have lied to me.”

She said this with utter sincerity, and Aidan was inclined to absolutely believe because she believed. But if Blake hadn’t lied to Kenzie, then there was only one other explanation.

“The schedule got changed?” she asked.

“It could have happened. Someone traded. Or-”

“Or something physically changed the schedule after the fact,” she said flatly. “And Blake isn’t here to defend himself.”

“No, but we are.” He was looking at the screen, until he realized that she wasn’t. She was staring at him. “What?”

Her eyes were shimmering brilliantly with anger and something else, a deep, gut-wrenching emotion. “I didn’t think it was possible.” Her voice sounded thick. “I didn’t want it to be possible. Oh, God.” She covered her face. “This is so stupid.”

“What?” He looked at the screen again, trying to figure out what she was talking about. “What’s stupid?”

“That I could like you more than last time.”

The words reached him as little had in all these years. “Kenz.” Melting, he pulled down her hands. “I-”

She put a finger in his face. “Don’t get excited. I don’t want to feel this way, and I’m telling you right now I am going to fight feeling this way.”

His heart was squeezed tighter than a bow. “We were just kids, Kenz.”

“And now we’re not. It doesn’t change anything except we’re older, and actually, it’s going to hurt more.” Jaw tight, she shook her head again and looked at the screen. “This first. Blake first. He’s far more important than rehashing old emotions that I don’t really want to have.” She worked the keyboard. “There. He’s not on the schedule there, either, but he called me from the station. I know because it was my birthday, see? And he called me at 6:00 a.m. to catch me before work, but I didn’t have an early morning shoot that day, and I was irritated that he woke me up. I’d been up late the night before celebrating.”

“With Chad?”

She swiveled her eyes in his direction. “Actually, Teddy. Teddy White.”

“Wasn’t he on People’s Most Beautiful list?”

“How do you know that?”

He knew it only because someone had stolen the porn out of the station bathroom, and Cristina had left her People magazine in there in its place, and-And Christ. He was crazy. “Never mind.”

“It was just a one-night thing.”

Oh, great. Even better. Now he could picture them having one-night sex, and-

“He’s a friend.”

A friend, as in someone who’d pulled her out of a fire? Someone who’d bail her out of jail?

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I realize the word friend is a loose term, especially in Hollywood. Not like here.”

“Do you miss it? Hollywood?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it and sighed. “I almost said yes, out of habit. The job is fun and the pay is amazing, but…” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s empty. And I didn’t really get that until I was here, either.”

He tried to sort out his feelings regarding this revealing fact.

“And, anyway, it no longer matters.” She turned back to the screen. “It’s over.”

“What do you mean?”

“My soap got cancelled.”

“It did?”

“Yeah, and there are auditions for new parts but I’ve been eating too many donuts, so…”

“So…what?”

“So I’m going to get fat.”

He let out a low laugh. “You look great, Kenzie. So great I haven’t been able to keep my hands off you, as you might have noticed. But I’m very sorry about your job.” He couldn’t believe he was going to say this. “You could always stay in Santa Rey.”

“I thought about it.” She sighed and faced him again. “But staying seems like a comfort thing. You know, like going back to the last place where I was happy. It’s a cop-out. And I was only happy here because of Blake.”

He held his breath. He’d made her happy, too. Until he hadn’t. “Maybe it was more than that.”

“I don’t know.” She sighed without giving away her exact feelings on the matter, although he suspected she didn’t know her exact feelings. “I wouldn’t be able to get a job here.”

“I know they don’t film TV or movies anywhere close, but you could do something other than act.”

She scoffed, then looked at him with heart-breaking hope. “Like what?”