Flashback

“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.”

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.”