Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | On Fire

On Fire
Jan Hambright


WHERE THERE'S SMOKE…Arson investigator Kade Decker had his hands full with four suspicious fires and no leads. Complicating matters was crime-scene psychologist Savannah Dawson's appearance at each investigation–and the red-hot attraction that raged between them.THERE'S SMOLDERING FIREAnd when it became clear that the same person responsible for setting the terrifying blazes had begun to target Savannah, honor demanded Kade offer his protection. But as danger around them fueled their desire, a burning question remained: Would the combustible passion between them be extinguished by the madman on their trail?









Kade felt Savannah’s terror slam into him…


Before the choked notes of Savannah’s scream registered in his brain. He bolted, raced down the hall into the master bedroom. Wisps of steam clouded the air. He stopped short in the bathroom doorway, just as she pulled a towel from the bar and wrapped it around herself. Desire blazed through him like a blowtorch on high.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Kade followed Savannah’s gesture and focused on the bold letters on the shower door.

Etched on the glass and outlined in moisture was a message:

“BURNING FOR YOU.”

Savannah had become the next target….




On Fire

Jan Hambright





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To the men and women who answer the page every day

at great risk to their own safety. Thank you.

To Peggy, Janis and Lynn, the brainstorm babes.

Thank you.

For my mom and Grandma. Wish you were here,

but I know you’re stuck in heaven.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Jan Hambright penned her first novel at seventeen, but claims it was pure rubbish. However, it did open the door on her love for storytelling. Born in Idaho, she resides there with her husband, three of their five children, a three-legged watchdog and a spoiled horse named Texas, who always has time to listen to her next story idea while they gallop along.

A self-described adrenaline junkie, Jan spent ten years as a volunteer EMT in rural Idaho, and jumped out of an airplane at ten thousand feet, attached to a man with a parachute, just to celebrate turning forty. Now she hopes to make your adrenaline level rise along with that of her danger-seeking characters. She would like to hear from her readers and hopes you enjoy the story world she has created for you. Jan can be reached at P.O. Box 2537, McCall, Idaho 83638.




CAST OF CHARACTERS


Kade Decker—An ex-fireman turned arson investigator, he barely survived a fire that killed the victim he was trying to rescue. Now back home in Montgomery, Alabama, he’s faced with a revenge arsonist’s rampage.

Savannah Dawson—Being psychic has always felt like a curse. But when a recurring nightmare drives her to one arson fire after another, she becomes Kade Decker’s prime suspect. Can she use her abilities to help him solve the crime?

Nick Brandt—Montgomery Police Department’s lead detective, and Kade’s college buddy.

George Welte—One of psychologist Savannah Dawson’s patients, his obsessive, pyro-personality seems highly suspicious.

Shane Murphy—He likes to watch. Likes to videotape the fires. But is it a crime?

Todd Coleman—Kade’s new next-door neighbor has always wanted to join the fire department.

Incident Commander Fisk—An old friend of Kade’s father, a Montgomery fireman before he died doing what he loved. Fisk is at every fire scene, giving the knock-down orders and keeping an eye on Kade.

Don Watson—A savvy forensic technician, and the man with the answers.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen




Chapter One


Flames raged at the sky, reaching for the stars above, hazing them in a veil of thick black smoke.

Kade Decker trained his camera lens on the crowd behind a strip of yellow crime-scene tape, and clicked off a couple of shots.

He pulled back from the viewfinder and turned to watch the fire devour the vacant house, consuming the last of its corpse like a hungry animal, out of control.

Fire department practice burns drew pyromaniacs; he just hoped theirs decided to make an appearance tonight. He’d made sure the department publicized the information, hoping to capture an image he could use in his investigation.

Steam billowed into the air as the fire crew opened the valves on their hoses, turning water loose on the flames and ending their fiery feast.

He turned back to the crowd, which had begun to disperse, feeling some of their disappointment as they disappeared into the darkness one by one, their excitement put out along with the fire.

Raising the camera, he stared through the viewfinder and adjusted the focus.

The woman whose image he dialed in stood on the fringe of the scene, dressed in a long white gown.

Kade squeezed off a shot and lowered the camera, intrigued by her presence, dressed like an angel at such a hellish event.

“Hey, Decker.”

“Yeah.” He turned toward the fire chief.

“You get what you needed?”

“Let’s hope. This blaze drew some strange ones. Maybe we caught an image of our guy. We’ll compare these pictures with the police department videos. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Hope so.” The chief nodded and walked away.

Kade turned around, determined to speak to the woman. He scanned the remains of the crowd, but she was gone.

Disappointment rattled through him as he let the camera drop and hang from the strap around his neck. Squeezing the handle of his cane, he limped toward his car, anxious to get the pictures down to the station.

The Montgomery arsonist was still out there, burning, and he had to be stopped before someone died.



“BRING HER IN for questioning.” Kade leveled his gaze on Nick Brandt, Montgomery’s lead detective and his old college roommate. Tension wound around his nerves. He needed this job like he needed the air in the room.

“Do you want my expertise?”

“I won’t BS you, we need your help. The department is shorthanded. This heat wave is stretching services thin and the arson fires have everyone on edge.”

Kade refocused on the paused frame of video, studying the woman silhouetted against a wall of flame.

The woman in white…the same woman he’d taken photos of at the practice burn two nights ago. “Who is she?”

“Doctor Savannah Dawson. A local psychologist. The department has used her on some tough cases. She has a knack for finding the truth.”

“She works the mental angle?”

“You could say that.”

He didn’t like the embarrassed grin on Nick’s face or the feeling there was more to the story than he was willing or able to share.

“We did a background check going back ten years. She grew up in Atlanta, moved here five years ago. She’s a model citizen, well respected…”

“Beautiful.” Kade finished the sentence and felt a jolt of irritation rattle his nerves. “She’s a looker, but that’s not a perquisite for exclusion. How do you explain her presence in four pieces of department footage taken at the arson scenes, and again at the practice burn?”

“I can’t.”

“Then let me do my job. If she’s innocent, she’ll walk out of here. Take the first round of interrogation if it makes you feel better. I’ll watch, see what I can pick up.”

His friend straightened and he tapped him on the shoulder. “What’s the problem? You have a hot date with her, and handcuffs don’t go with your dinner jacket?”

Nick smirked. “Nah.”

“Too bad.” He watched his buddy leave the room and turned back to the TV screen. Pulling his tie loose from his shirt collar, he peeled the top button out of its loop, letting some heat out.

July in Montgomery was a scorcher and the heat wave showed no sign of letting up, but neither was the arsonist who’d set three fires in a week. Same MO, same general area.

The woman caught on video hovering nearby at every scene was a break he couldn’t afford to ignore. It was textbook, he could feel it in his bones. Arsonists enjoyed babysitting their creations. Was she any different? He’d have her confession before the day closed, then he could wrap things up. Put a notch in his belt, prove he was capable, again, and not just coasting on his father’s good name.

He picked up the TV remote, but couldn’t kill the image. He studied her face, framed in waves of long, dark hair. She had a heart-shaped face and full lips. Slight, willowy build. Hell, she looked like an angel, in a devilish sort of way. He couldn’t see the color of her eyes, but he could almost imagine they were a heavenly shade of blue, though he didn’t know where the thought came from.

Moving up to the screen, he focused on her choice of clothing. It was the same nightgown, just like the one she’d been wearing when he captured her on film. He’d never spotted an arsonist in their pajamas, hanging out at the scene of the crime looking like some sort of guardian angel. It was a heck of an odd MO.

He pushed the button and she vanished.

Female arsonists were a rarity, but they did come along every now and again. He picked up his cane and briefcase, a small measure of excitement tumbling in his gut.

This was his first case. His first shot at a comeback. He couldn’t afford to blow it. Besides, the only good pyro was an extinguished pyro, even if catching him took second place to actually putting out the flames.

If they didn’t get you first.

He leaned on his cane, gritted his teeth and left the room, striding along the corridor to Interrogation, with its two-way mirror and closed in walls.

Pain radiated in his hip, putting a hitch in his step. He paused and opened the door into the tiny watch room.

It had been ten months since the accident. Twenty-eight weeks of grueling physical therapy, and still the pain was excruciating. It sawed into him every time he moved, but it wouldn’t break him; he wasn’t going to let it.

Nothing was going to stop him from doing this job.

Not even a sizzling pyro in her nightgown.



SAVANNAH DAWSON tried to relax in the hard plastic chair and focused her attention on the officer sitting across the table from her.

She’d met him briefly a couple of times in the course of working a case, but today was different; she could feel it in the air around her.

Nervous energy jumped and bumped along her spine, but she held direct eye contact, a slight smile on her lips. She even resisted the overwhelming urge to glance at her watch. Her ten o’clock appointment would be walking into the clinic right now, and the sooner she took care of this the better.

“What’s this about, Detective Brandt? Has there been some sort of accident? Do you have one of my patients in lockup, needing evaluation?”

“No, no. Nothing like that, but I would like to know where you were last night, between midnight and 2:00 a.m.?”

“Sleeping.” She shifted under his intense gaze, hoping her answer hadn’t sounded curt.

“There was another arson fire last night. A residence on Catalpa Street. We took video, and you’re in it. Want to tell me what you were doing there?”

“But, I wasn’t there. I was at home, in bed. There must be some mistake.” Caution inched along her nerves. She didn’t need a map to see where he was trying to take her. “Did you speak to me personally?”

“No.”

“There you have it. I’m not the only brunette in Montgomery.”

“I’ve seen the video. It’s you.”

“I went to bed around 10:00 p.m. last night, and woke up this morning at six. It’s crazy to think I could have been there without knowing or remembering.”

He nodded, a fixed smile on his lips. “You’re right. And you’d know crazy if you came across it. Would you like to see the video?”

“I’ll take a look. Maybe I can help you decipher who she is.”

Nick Brandt stood up. “It’s an open investigation, Doctor Dawson. We need to follow every lead and nail this firebug before he hurts someone.”

“I understand. Forget it. They say everyone has a twin somewhere in the world. Maybe mine just happens to live in Montgomery.” She stood up and gathered her handbag, her gaze drifting to a large mirrored wall in the room. It looked like something straight out of an episode of Law & Order, but the vibes coming from the other side were real.

Someone was watching her.

She could feel him behind the glass, knew their exchange of words was being scrutinized, dissected and worse. Disbelieved?

“It’s down the hall in the video room.”

She fell in behind the detective, the weight of the observer’s thoughts trailing along with her. She resisted the urge to shake them off. It wouldn’t do any good; they’d only come back, and stronger next time.

Her psychic gift was expanding, shifting, had been for the last three weeks, but she didn’t want to know the feelings and emotions of others. She didn’t enjoy picking up on information that didn’t belong to her, or in her head, for that matter.

Then there was the recurring nightmare…

“The video was taken last night around 1:00 a.m.”

She followed him into a small, windowless room with minimal furniture and aged blue carpet.

He picked up a remote and turned on the television in the corner. “The fire is similar to two others. All of them were set using the same MO.”

A paused video clip popped on screen.

She blinked hard, trying to reconcile the image and the sick feeling tossing around in her stomach. “It’s me…but I don’t understand…”

He was coming…the hunter was coming. Moving in on her like a lion on a kill. The man she’d felt X-ray her soul. Had he discovered her secret?

Her palms became slick, her heartbeat intensified until it throbbed in her eardrums.

“Doc? Are you all right?”

“It’s so hot in here.” She pulled at the front of her blouse, sending little puffs of air against her inflamed skin.

“The AC’s on the fritz. Sorry. Can I get you some water?”

“That would be nice. Thanks.”

He left the room, but nothing was going to extinguish the growing heat in her body. She closed her eyes, her back to the open door. She didn’t have to see the man to know he was there.

Like a frame of film in her head, she recorded the exact instant he appeared, standing in the doorway, his shoulder against the jamb, appraising her with an electric gaze that zapped her. She went weak in the knees, but regained her composure.

“Doctor Savannah Dawson, I presume?” His voice was deep and smooth.

She sucked in a breath, gathered her courage and turned around. “Yes.”

Her mental picture of his face matched the physical one she found herself staring at now. Every detail was seared into her brain. His angular face, straight nose, almost black hair, cut short, and his eyes, an intense shade of hazel flecked with gold.

It was the face of the man she’d seen over and over…in her nightmare.

“Kade Decker, Montgomery’s newest arson investigator. Just in from Chicago.” He extended his right hand while he moved toward her.

In slow motion she reached out, intent on holding her ground. He may rule her nights, but this was daylight.

Their hands locked for an instant. Skin on skin.

A current of electricity shot up her arm and sizzled through her body.

Jerking free of his grip, she pinned a smile on her lips, but she knew he’d felt it to. She’d seen it in the brief widening of his eyes, a look of shock smoothed over.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Decker.”

“Call me Kade.”

“Okay.” She couldn’t do it any longer. She couldn’t stand toe-to-toe with him, not when he seemed to suck the energy out of her body, leaving her feeling like a rag doll. She sank into the chair next to the desk.

What was it about him? What connection could they possibly share?

“Detective Brandt showed you the video. Can you explain it?”

She dragged her gaze away from his face and looked at the television screen.

“It’s me. As for an explanation for how and why I’m there, I don’t have one. I don’t remember leaving the house last night, much less warming myself next to a fire without a roasting skewer and a bag of marshmallows.”

A smile tugged at his mouth, and she felt him mentally fight it. Humor as a weapon could work. Disarm? She doubted it. He was too intense, after one thing. The truth.

“Do you sleepwalk, Savannah?”

The question was silly, but the use of her name in his easy Southern drawl sent small shivers through her body. “No.”

“So how do you explain your presence at the scene? I have additional tapes with you on each and every one. Video doesn’t lie.”

He began to pace back and forth in front of the desk, each step accentuated by a slight hesitation before the next step followed. He’d been injured, somehow. She focused, picking up on a measure of the pain inside his body.

She got up from the chair, feeling less vulnerable to his power in a standing position. “If I had an explanation for being there, I’d share it with you, but I don’t.”

He pulled up short and turned on her.

She watched him clench his teeth, then relax, saw the minute beads of perspiration dotting his upper lip. A wisp of desire zinged through her, throwing her thoughts into a jumble. But were they her thoughts? Or his?

The desk offered a physical barrier between them, but she couldn’t shut out his mental chatter. She could feel his determination churning like an unrelenting sea against the rocks. Or was it desperation?

“You think I set those fires, don’t you?”

His gaze locked on to hers, warning, searching, penetrating. Her heart skipped a beat, and the air in the room thickened.

“You’re free to leave, Dr. Dawson, but there’ll be more questions, and a search warrant.”

Fear tickled along her spine. She raised her chin in defiance. “You can search until they hand out ice picks in hell. It won’t change a thing. I’m no arsonist.”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you? But if you’re lying, I won’t stop until I put you away.”

She could only stare at him from across the desk, feeling his certainty about her guilt. The sensation was crushing, powerful. Her emotions imploded.

“I’ll call my attorney.” She straightened and walked to the door with as much moxie as she could manage.

Detective Brandt showed up with a glass of water and a frown on his face.

She sidestepped him and moved into the hall, taking a couple of strides, but the men’s conversation radiated through the open doorway.

“What did you say to her, Decker?”

“Nothing really. She’s in a hurry, her ten o’clock is waiting.”

Savannah stopped short. Fear laced through her veins, but turned to curiosity. She hadn’t told him about her ten o’clock patient. Could the psychic connection she’d felt between them really work both ways?

She took off at a brisk walk, anxious to get as far away from Kade Decker as possible. As far away as physical movement would allow, but in her heart she knew she’d see him again…in her nightmare, chasing through the flames after her.



“I PRESSED HER about the fires.”

“And?”

“And, nothing.” Kade edged out into the corridor, hoping to catch another look at her. His nightie-clad fire angel was even hotter in the flesh, but she was long gone, a fact that intensified the hollow sensation in his chest.

He stepped back into the room, irritated with himself for going primal in the first place.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t cross your departmental line, but I’d bet she lawyers up.”

“Thanks. You’ve turned her into a hostile. Makes my job harder.”

“Take it easy. I like her for this, and if she’s our firebug, she’s just getting warmed up. It’s a compulsion that won’t be put out until she’s caught. Let’s get a search warrant. There’s enough probable cause, with the videos and her lack of a reasonable explanation for showing up on scene. I’d also like a copy of her juvenile file. I’ve got a hunch we’ll find something. This compulsion starts early.”

“You’re sniffing in the wrong direction. Her juvie file is clean. Checked it myself.” Nick shrugged his shoulders.

Kade studied his friend, and his hard-line attitude softened a bit. “It would be a shame to lock up a woman like that. She’s intelligent, easy on the eyes, has a sense of humor.” He paused. All attributes he admired in a woman, but a combination he’d yet to find in his thirty-four years of life.

“On that happy summation—” Nick smacked his shoulder “—I’ve gotta go. There’s a pile of reports on my desk that have to be processed, today, or the chief is going to blow a gasket. How about we get together tonight for a drink? We can ruminate over the reasons why neither one of us is holding the girl of our dreams.”

“I’d like that, but I know why I’m not holding mine.” He sobered. “Besides, I’m still helping my mom get settled in her new apartment.”

“Rain check then?”

“Yeah.” He stared after Nick and sank into the chair trying to make sense of the last half hour.

He’d felt a physical jolt when he’d touched Savannah Dawson’s hand, like making contact with a bare wire and having electricity burn through his body to the ground.

It hadn’t been an unpleasant sensation, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

And then there were her eyes—the eyes he’d somehow imagined were ice-blue were brown. The whole meeting was strange, but stranger still was the feeling of familiarity, as if he somehow knew her.

“Bunk.” He stood up, shaking off all the mumbo jumbo in his brain. He’d never seen her in his life. Besides, people were nothing but a compilation of facts. Nothing mystical, unworldly or unobtainable. He’d have the goods on Ms. Dawson. All of them. And when he did, she’d go down easy.

He stepped into the hallway, moving back to the watch room where he’d left his briefcase and cane. But before he reached the door, pain knifed into him, stealing his breath.

Sucking up against the wall for support, he waited for the pain to subside.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, he pushed away, gritted his teeth and put one foot in front of the other. He made it into the tiny cubicle, cursing the Chicago arsonist who’d destroyed his body and his life.




Chapter Two


Kade’s fire pager went off in the dark. A series of repetitive beeps signaled an alert and forced him awake in an instant.

He bolted out of bed, looking for his boots, bunker pants and turnout coat, but they weren’t there.

Orienting himself in the room, he brushed his face with his hands as reality set in. You could take the fireman out of the station, but instinct would always be a part of him, embedded in his DNA.

A range of emergency tones sounded, right behind the beeps.

Kade stilled, waiting for the information to come over the airwaves.

“Engine Company 44, Ladder company 10, Medical unit 6, Incident Commander Fisk. Please respond to an apartment fire, 816 Forrest Grove Road.”

Kade dressed, grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911.

“Montgomery 911, what’s your emergency?”

“Fire Investigator Decker, I’ll be responding to the apartment fire. Can you repeat the location?”

“Copy that. Eight-One-Six Forrest Grove Road.”

Forrest Grove…

Terror sliced into his comprehension.

He closed the phone, adrenaline pumping in his veins, sending his heart rate through the roof.

His mother’s apartment building was on fire.



SAVANNAH SAT UP in a cold sweat, a vise of panic around her heart. There was menace in the air, heavy and pervasive.

She threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. In a daze, she pulled on her robe and pushed her feet into her slippers.

She would go to him, she had to go.



KADE TOOK THE CORNER at Forrest Grove and Freemont on two wheels.

The glow of flames against the night sky shook him like an earthquake, opening a deep crevice on his normally smooth facade.

His mom was spending her first night in the building.

A helpless sensation pooled in his chest.

Rolling up to the scene, he assessed the response to keep his sanity.

The top floor of the two-story building was ablaze. Flames licked out of blown windows, acrid smoke turned the night sky blacker. Shaken, soot-covered residents milled on the lawn, but his mother wasn’t among them.

Panic constricted his gut as he jumped out of the car and charged toward the incident commander standing near the ladder truck.

“Fisk?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the status?” The ladder truck was fully extended, and Kade lifted his gaze to the corner apartment.

His heart stopped.

His mom stood on the balcony of her apartment, waving her arms.

He jetted toward the ladder, biting back a curse, but Fisk blocked his path and shouted an order above the noise of the pump. Strands of fire hose snaked along the ground, hissing and bulging with water. A couple of firemen opened the hose valve and turned the stream on the flames.

“That’s my mother up there!”

Fisk turned his gaze to the balcony.

“I’m going up!”

“No way!” The IC didn’t budge.

Rage blasted through his veins as he stared into Fisk’s sweat-streaked face.

“Turnouts. Where are they?”

Fisk grabbed his shoulder. “I can’t let you go.” Was it pity he saw in the veteran’s eyes, or concern? He didn’t know, but it did little to squelch his anger.

A fireman in full turnout gear bound up the ladder, moving toward Kade’s mother in quick increments.

Kade let out the breath he’d been holding and stepped back, focused on the man doing the job he’d done so many times he could do it blindfolded.

The fireman covered the distance and reached the balcony in a light spray of water from below that cooled the air around them to a breathable temperature.

His emotions settled the instant he saw his mom climb onto the ladder.

In a matter of minutes, she was being helped down and into his arms. “Thank God you’re all right. What happened?”

“I went out on the balcony and the door locked behind me. I couldn’t get back in, then the fire started. I don’t know how the door got locked.”

Uneasiness edged up his spine. “I’ll check it out, Mom.” He glanced up as the EMTs approached to assess his mother’s condition, but when he looked past them, his rage exploded.

There she stood, nightgown and all.

Savannah Dawson.

“Take good care of her.” He handed his mother off and charged toward Savannah like a man on fire, his flaming emotions barely contained inside his body.

Was she responsible for this? He’d get it out of her, no matter what.



THE WORD STARTED in a low monotone, grinding against Savannah’s eardrums. Over and over the sound repeated, until it turned into a single word.

Clarity flooded her brain and washed her into full consciousness in one jarring instant.

“Savannah! Savannah!”

She pulled free from his grasp, whirled and charged forward, only to come face-to-face with a wall of heat.

Stumbling backward, she slammed into his chest and turned to face the embodiment of her nightmare. Kade Decker. But she wasn’t dreaming. She pulled in a breath and nearly choked on the smoky air.

“Where am I?” Her skin tingled as he held her shoulders. She focused on his face in the glow of the flames, the fire in his eyes as emblazoned as the building behind them.

His anger was palpable. She could taste the bitter words on the end of his tongue, feel the excruciating pain that radiated from deep in his body, enraging his nerves to the point of disintegration.

She backed away, severing the physical bond between them, but it left her weak.

“How’d you do it, Dr. Dawson? Do you have an accomplice? Someone to torch the place while you stand outside in your nightie and watch?”

He stepped toward her.

She backed up, lifting her chin, daring him to continue with his tirade. He was judge, jury and extinguisher.

“You’ve lost it, Decker. I’d never hurt your mom or anyone else.”

Her words acted like a slap against his stubbled cheek and he sobered, taking another step toward her.

“You admit you know this is her building? Where’d you get the information?”

She swallowed hard, aware that she’d said too much, drawn his suspicions around her like a strait-jacket. Escape was impossible; he’d never believe she’d gotten the facts from his own mind, from his own thoughts. But the connection worked both ways for some unknown reason, didn’t it?

She stared up at him, focusing a statement over and over. I’m innocent, I didn’t do it.

“So who did?”

His verbal answer to her silent question sent a shiver up her spine.

She turned and bolted through the crowd, racing into the street, hoping for a moment to think. A moment out of his turbulent thoughts, but she could feel him behind her.

She slowed her pace, listening to the decisive slap of his shoes against the asphalt, accentuated by the thud of his cane.

It wasn’t any good. She could never mentally outrun him. She stopped and turned to face her tormentor.



KADE SLOWED UP, staring at Savannah Dawson where she stood under a streetlight, haloed in illumination.

She was no angel, even if she looked like one now, but he was about to clip her wings. She had too much information, too many answers for someone with no knowledge about the fires.

He stopped in front of her and squared his shoulders. A hint of mercy stirred in his veins.

She raised her gaze to his, her eyes glimmering in the shallow light.

His breath caught as he stared into her face, seeing her clearly for the first time tonight.

Her eyes were blue. Ice-blue. The color of heaven. But why did she hide them behind colored contact lenses?

Suspicion quickly replaced his surprise. “You know you have to come down to the station?”

“Yeah. I know. I only hope it proves I didn’t start this fire, or any of the others.”

“How’d you get here, Savannah?”

“I must have walked, but I don’t remember doing it. I don’t remember anything until I looked up at you a moment ago.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her, but she’d certainly been out of it when he’d spotted her. He must have yelled her name half a dozen times before she acknowledged him.

“I’ve heard of sleepwalking crimes. They’re rare, but stranger things have happened.”

“You think I started this fire while I was sleeping?”

He couldn’t answer her outright. It was a bizarre idea and he didn’t believe it to be a fact. Suspicion fisted in his gut. “Let’s go. Forensics needs to process you.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not an object—”

“But you are a suspect.” Fear flared in her eyes and he felt her helpless reaction for an instant, then the odd sensation vanished. “They’ll take your night gown and robe, check for residue. Chances are you’ll be home before dawn.”

“Great. Let’s get it over with, prove I’m innocent.” She swallowed, and he felt her apprehension. His heart softened. “It’ll work out. It’s a simple procedure, painless.”

“I know.”

“There’ll be a squad car to take you downtown.” He grasped her elbow as they started back toward the scene. A tingling sensation worked its way up his arm, but he didn’t let go of her. He couldn’t risk losing her this time.

“I need to check on my mother.”

“She’s going to be fine. She was rescued in plenty of time.”

He wanted to press her further. Her information was too strong to be coincidental. It sounded more like firsthand knowledge.

They reached the ambulance and he looked into the back where his mother sat on the gurney, holding an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose.

She lowered it when she saw him. “How many times do I have to tell them, I’m fine!”

“Relax, Mom, they’re just doing their job.”

“They want to take me to the hospital.”

“Let them. I’ll be down in a couple of hours to pick you up. Bring you back out to the house.”

She shook her head in disgust. “Not much choice, I guess.”

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I went out onto the balcony looking for some air, but when I tried the sliding glass door to go back in, it wouldn’t budge. I must have spent an hour out there trying to decide what to do. That’s when I saw the glow of the fire through the drapes. I wish I could tell you more.”

“It’s okay.” He patted her hand. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

She put the mask back on and waved him off.

He turned to find Savannah standing a short distance away, her hands in her robe pockets, staring at the smoldering building.

He was drawn to her and moved in closer, sensing a degree of fear escalating in her body.

“What is it?” He put his hand on her back, making her jump.

“He’s here. Watching.”

“Who’s watching?” He turned her, clasping her shoulders in his hands.

“The man who did this.” She suddenly went limp and rocked forward.

He caught her or she would have collapsed, but the sudden contact jolted him, infusing his body with a sensation of weightlessness.

She regained her footing and the feeling inside him dissipated.

“How do you know that?” He stared at the crowd of bystanders, searched the faces, scrutinized anyone who didn’t fit, but they all fit. Many of them he’d known from his childhood growing up in Montgomery.

“Do you see him? Can you tell me who he is?” He whispered the questions in her ear, catching a whiff of vanilla on her skin.

“He’s not in the crowd, and I don’t know who he is.”

“Then how do you know he’s here?”

She looked up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful, and for an instant the outside world fell away. Desire raced through his system, sucking him into a tornado of sensation that spun him around and spit him out.

“I can’t see him…I feel him.”

Kade raked his hand over his head and tried to translate her words into something that made sense. “I wish to hell I knew what you were talking about.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him around to the side of the ambulance. “I’m psychic. There, I’ve said it. If you can make sense of it, great. If you can’t, too bad.”

He was ready with a humorous comeback, but her teeth were clenched, her face serious, her expression close to desperation. Something he knew far too much about these days.

“I had no idea.” What was he supposed to do? Indulge her fantasy? “So where is he? Give me a direction, something to go on. That’s what you do, right?”

She closed her eyes and extended her hands, palms facing forward. Like something out of a science-fiction movie, she turned in a circle.

Kade held his breath, hope knotting his nerves together, but reality set in as she finished her pirouette and opened her eyes.

This was nuts. He squeezed his cane handle, considering her odd demeanor with skepticism.

“Over your right shoulder, there’s a grove of trees. He’s hiding there.”

Should he believe her? Or should he stuff her in a squad car and get to work on this investigation using material he could see with his own eyes?

“Fine, you can discount my empathic observation, or you can check it out for yourself.”

How had she known about his doubts, or how deep they ran inside his head? “I’ll humor you this once, Savannah. Then you’re going downtown.”

If his statement frightened her, it didn’t show on her face. Her slight, “you’ll see” smile, however, bothered him. She could have staged the scene to throw the investigation in another direction, away from her, but there was only one way to find out.

He turned, spotted the grove of trees and limped toward them.

The stagnant air was heavy with humidity and smoke. He made his way across the span of lawn to the point where the grove stood as a gateway into a densely wooded area, thick with water oak and pine.

The light stopped where the tangle of vegetation began. He hesitated. The hair on his neck bristled and oddly enough, he could feel her watching him, nudging him forward, begging him to accept her proof. Believe her claim…take the bait.

He shook it off and stepped into the grove, listening for the sound of movement, anything that would indicate he wasn’t alone.

Irritation jetted through him as he moved deeper into the stand, determined to disprove her information.

The grass rustled to his left.

He focused on a cluster of shadows and stepped toward the sound, ready to scare the hell out of whatever small creature had the unfortunate luck of crossing his path.

A flurry of movement disoriented him. He heard footsteps behind him, but it was too late.

Someone slammed an object against the back of his head and his world went black.



SAVANNAH’S MIND went blank for an instant.

Kade was in trouble.

In a full sprint, she ran to the grove, pausing near the overgrown opening, before pushing into the center of the trees.

The light was minimal, but she could just make out the shape of a body on the ground. “Kade!”

He moaned. “Get out! Run!”

“He’s gone.” She knelt next to him, helping him into a sitting position. She brushed his shoulder with her hand, feeling a degree of his pain.

“Looks like you and your mom get to share an ambulance ride tonight.”

“I don’t need an ambulance. I need the guy who just tried to take my head off.”

“I should have warned you.”

“You knew this was going to happen?”

“Not exactly, but I felt his desperation when you cornered him.”

“I’d like to say I believe you, but…”

“Save it, Decker. I eat skeptics for breakfast and I’ve dined on the finest. Why do you think I hide my abilities and my eye color? It’s to protect myself from people like you.” She picked up his cane and stood up, feeling exhausted.

“Can you get up on your own?” She already knew he could, but she helped him to his feet anyway, placing the cane in his hand.

“What’s wrong with your hip?”

“I was in an accident.”

“Is it painful?” She knew the answer; she’d tapped into the sensation.

“For the most part, yeah. But I’m working through it.”

She pulled his arm around her shoulder and they stumbled out of the grove in silence.

Nick Brandt spotted them and crossed the lawn, a frown on his face. “This isn’t summer camp kids. It’s no time to be sneaking off into the woods.”

Kade grinned at his friend, but didn’t take his arm off Savannah’s shoulder. He liked the way she fit next to him, liked the tension he felt trapped inside her body screaming to get out. It was sweet torture with a twist. The contact made him feel better, eased his pain.

“You’ll like what we found on our foray. A voyeur with a club. He was watching.”

“I’ll get a team in here. If he left anything behind, we’ll find it.”

“Then there’s Dr. Dawson.” He purposely stared down at her. “She arrived on scene in her nightie again. Better check her for residue.”

“He really needs the bump on his head examined. It’s affecting his brain.”

He liked the glimmer of challenge he saw in her cool blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, doc, but you’ll have to come with me.”

“Gladly.” She pulled free of him. “If it proves I’m not your firebug.”

Kade watched her walk away and be helped into the backseat of a black-and-white, satisfied when it pulled away.

“Better get that knot looked at, buddy.” Nick Brandt moved up next to him.

“I’ll live. Why didn’t you clue me in about Dr. Dawson’s…interesting talent?”

Nick shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Do you remember that kidnapping case a couple of years ago, the little girl who went missing down in Mobile? Her kidnapper was in a car accident shortly after the ransom drop and died before he could tell us where the girl was?”

“Yeah, made the news in Chicago.” Kade fingered the back of his head, feeling for blood.

“Dr. Savannah Dawson found her.”

“No kidding…”

“From the station downtown. She’s the real deal, buddy. An honest-to-goodness, credible psychic.”

Kade sucked in a long breath and let it out, trying to get his head around the details. “Is that your only case?”

“There are dozens just like it. She’s my department’s secret weapon. I can’t disclose every case she’s worked. If the media got hold of it, we’d take a beating. We’re already being scrutinized on a daily basis. It’d be fuel on fire.”

“You’re right. And she said as much tonight. I got the impression she’s been ridiculed for her talent.”

“Yeah. This city’s got a knack for putting folks through the grinder for being different.”

Admiration stirred in his mind. Savannah Dawson was a survivor. He liked that.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“You said she grew up in Atlanta and moved here five years ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Where was she born?”

“She’s a native. Born right here in Montgomery.”

A chill screamed through his body, waking up a long buried memory.

“I’ve got to get down to the hospital, check on my mom. I’ll be back to have a look as soon as this mother cools off.”

“No problem. Maybe we’ll have some forensics on your assailant by the time you get back.”

Kade squeezed his cane and limped toward his car. Gritting his teeth, he climbed in and fired the engine.

He’d known Savannah Dawson once upon a time, as sure as he knew his own name. Now he had to confirm it.




Chapter Three


Kade tried to force up the sliding glass door latch, but it was melted in place. It proved one thing. His mom had been locked out when the fire started.

Relief coursed through his veins as he turned back into the charred apartment where the arsonist had left his mark in the middle of the room. A point of origin that had dropped from the ceiling onto a tile. Too bad the intense heat had destroyed the incendiary device itself, leaving him little to go on.

Fear worked its way into his mind. His mother’s home had been targeted, but had she? Most firebugs didn’t give away get-out-of-fire-free cards or lock their victims out of a fire.

Don Watson from the crime lab entered the apartment with his kit. “Want that door?”

“Yeah. The lock mechanism is of particular interest. My mom claims when she tried it from the outside, it was locked. The fire started not long after that. I want to know if it failed, or if someone intentionally pushed the lever down.”

“You got it.”

Kade made his way through the apartment, flicking his flashlight beam over every inch. Most of the items he remembered from his childhood were here, covered with soot and water, a total loss.

Was Alice Decker the target or a random victim? Frustration threaded through him, stitching up a solution he could live with. He wouldn’t take risks with her safety; he wanted her to leave town, go to visit relatives, get as far away from Montgomery as she could until he figured this out and put the arsonist behind bars.

He paused at his mom’s bedroom door and shined the light inside. The beam swept across her bed, and surprise squeezed in his chest. He pulled the beam back to the bed where a long lump lay with the covers pulled over it. His mom’s full-length body pillow. A therapeutic apparatus she used to support her limbs when she lay on her side.

Had the arsonist mistaken the lump for Alice Decker?

Fear twisted around his nerves, giving voice to his self-doubt. He couldn’t afford to screw this up.

“Hey, Decker. The door’s open.”

Kade turned off his flashlight and returned to the living room. “What’s it look like inside?”

“Broken. When your mom closed it, the latch dropped, locking her out. It’s missing the spring that holds the latch up.”

“That failure saved her life. Whoever started this fire thought she was in bed. He or she had no way of knowing Mom was on the balcony when the fire took off. Let’s dust. Maybe a print survived the inferno, and I want to access the attic.”

“Will do.”

Kade leaned on his cane and took a deep breath, but he couldn’t relax, couldn’t pull it together when there was a maniac out there setting fires. But how was his mom involved? Was she a random target? In the right place at the wrong time?

He studied the burn pattern in the middle of the living room floor. “Did you find anything left here?”

“Nothing readily visible, but there was a clump of fibrous material.” Watson shuffled around in his collection kit and pulled out a clear plastic bag. “It could be part of the melted carpet, or the ceiling tile, but it stayed intact. I’m going to analyze it under the microscope, get a look at the weave pattern to determine what it is.”

Kade took the bag and held it up to the light coming in through the open sliding glass door. The clump of fiber was knitted together in a circular pattern.

“Looks like a filter.” He held the bag out for Watson to inspect.

Don turned on his flashlight and examined the evidence. “You’re right. It could be what’s left of a cigarette filter. That could be evidence of an incendiary device. I’ll run it through the tests, get something definitive.”

“Thanks.” Kade took one last look around the burned-out room and hobbled to the door. His hip was killing him. He needed to slam back a couple of pain meds to survive the afternoon.

The search warrant for Savannah Dawson’s house would be coming down within the hour, and he wanted to be there when it was executed.



SAVANNAH GLANCED UP from her notepad and considered the patient sitting across the desk from her, but her attention sagged as he blew his nose on a tissue.

“I’m sorry this upsets you, George, but you need to come to terms with the breakup. Once you let the painful memories go, you can begin to heal.”

“I know, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. She meant so much to me.”

She pushed the box of Kleenex toward him. He pulled out two more and dabbed at his nose.

Changing the subject might get them past George’s tearful stage, something that happened at the beginning of each session, but today it had gone on too long. She’d have to properly analyze it, maybe contact a colleague and get his take.

George had an extreme obsessive personality and trouble controlling his compulsions. It was one of the worst cases she’d ever encountered, but he was making progress, she thought.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s our time for today. Have Charlene make you an appointment for next week at our regular time, and I’m sorry I missed our 10:00 a.m. yesterday.”

He reluctantly got up from the chair. “I should come to see you more often.”

Savannah stood up. “More problems?”

He dropped his gaze, then looked up again. “I like you. You make me feel comfortable and understood. You’ve helped me get through this tough time in my life.”

“Two hours a week is sufficient. You’re making wonderful progress.”

George Welte nodded his head, moseyed to the door and gave her one last glance over the top of his thick glasses before he slid out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Savannah sat back down in her chair, her mind absent. She was no good to her patients or herself in this state. Since surrendering her nightgown, robe and slippers at the police station last night, she hadn’t been able to get Kade Decker off her mind. He was like a CD looped out on the same song, and she couldn’t stop playing him. Then there was the search warrant, probably being executed at this very moment. A physical manifestation of his mental determination to prove her guilt.

She chewed her bottom lip and considered what they’d find. Lighter fluid was a given. In the garage, outside on the patio next to the barbecue. Nothing could be read into it; half the residents of the city could be suspects if he chose to focus on lighter fluid.

Fear raked her nerves. She’d felt his determination, been infused with his surety of her guilt, but there was a boundary there, too. A level of integrity that encompassed everything he said and did. She’d just have to let the lack of evidence confirm it for him.

She stood up and gazed out the third-story window at the rear parking lot below.

The heat outside was suffocating, the index off the charts. A watery sheen of vapor flamed up from the asphalt.

She watched George Welte walk to his red Mercedes coupe, climb inside and drive away.

If only she could shut Kade out, turn off the receptors inside her head, maybe she could get some peace. Her only other option was to deal with it. Figure it out. Find the catalyst for their connection. It had to be buried somewhere in the past. Maybe it was time for a resurrection.

She pushed the button on her intercom. “Charlene? Could you come in here for a moment?”

The door pushed open and her secretary entered.

“What’s my afternoon look like?”

“You’ve got a three o’clock and a five.”

“Call them and reschedule for next Monday.”

“Sure.” Charlene disappeared back into the outer office, leaving her with a tangle of thoughts to sort out.

She’d never shared a psychic bond like the one she was currently sharing with Kade Decker. But how had it happened? She’d never met him before yesterday, and suddenly they were locked in some sort of cosmic union. Fused in thought and feeling, while he sucked the energy from her body every time they touched.

“Damn.” She was beginning to scare herself, and just when she thought she had this psychic thing wired, laced up in a neat little package that she could control and understand.

She plopped into her chair, rocked back, closed her eyes and concentrated, practicing a form of self-hypnosis she’d shared with many of her patients.

Like a silent movie playing in her head, she perused the last forty-eight hours. Gradually, her thoughts pushed farther and farther back until an image slammed into her brain.

She bolted forward, excitement churning her insides, spinning off snippets of detail long forgotten.

Her hand shook as she grabbed her purse out of the desk drawer, left the office and headed for a rendezvous with an ancient memory.



SAVANNAH DROVE into the old section of town, past rows of mature oaks and old row houses.

She hadn’t been back since she’d been removed by protective services on April 18th. Twenty-eight years ago.

Summoning her courage, she turned onto Palm Street and slowed her speed, taking in the sensation of familiarity that teased her nerves and edged her into the past.

A past that had been wonderful up to a point, the point where everything had changed and her destiny had spun out of control.

The house still belonged to her. Her mother had left it to her after she died, but it had been used as a rental ever since.

According to the agency, there was a new tenant moving in, but she hoped he wasn’t there yet.

She pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

A lump squeezed in her stomach. She felt tears sting the backs of her eyes, remembering the frightened little girl she’d once been.

Breathing through the moment, she climbed out of the car, letting the memories consume her as she stepped onto the cracked cement.

Some were happy. Peddling her bike, listening to the click-clack of the cracks under her tires. Doing cartwheels and somersaults until she collapsed in exhaustion.

Then it had all ended, and hell began.

She pushed the painful images aside and headed for the backyard.

Her mood lightened as she walked around to the side of the house, intent on the memory she’d rousted half an hour ago.

The gate squeaked open, and she stepped through into the neglected yard.

The ghosts from her past were all here, resting comfortably.

She let the spring-loaded gate slap shut, moving along the fence, raking her fingertips over the rough board slats before stopping three-quarters of the way down the fence line.

This was the spot, she decided as she knelt down in the warm grass. The very spot where she and Kade’s lives had become intertwined. The how, she knew, but the why was much more illusive.

The four-inch knothole near the bottom of the board was weathered but just as she remembered it, only lower to the ground.

She’d been five years old that year. The year the boy next door had become her only friend. The only child on the block who didn’t think she was a freak, with a crazy lady for a mother. The memory was poignant and drove sadness into her heart.

She crouched down on all fours, ringed the knot with her finger and put her eye to the hole like she’d done as a child.

The yard next door looked the same. Short chopped grass, well kept. Abundant flowerbeds teaming with gladiolas, iris and snapdragons. Stuck in a time warp, like her wardrobe, she decided as she stared at the same set of urns flanking the back patio and overflowing with bright fuchsia petunias.

A wind chime tinkled, challenged by the hint of breeze stirring the muggy July air.

Sweat crept from her hairline at the nape of her neck and tickled down her back, but she was mesmerized. Glued to the past.

A shadow descended on the other side of the fence, and the tiny portal was blocked.

She swallowed, staring back at the hazel eye gazing at her through the knothole. The iris was ringed by tiny golden flecks, the color as smooth as dark honey.

“Savannah?” Kade’s voice cut into her hearing and she froze. Swaddled in the fabric of time. Transported back to the single thing that had joined them for twenty-eight years.

A kids’ game. An equal exchange of DNA. The origin of their psychic connection.

Blood brothers.

“Kade.” She swallowed and pulled back, relief liquefying in her veins. She wasn’t crazy; she was perfectly sane.

“Stay put, I’m coming over.”

She stood up, waiting for him, glad when the gate opened and he limped toward her, cane in hand.

“When did you figure it out?” he asked, stopping next to her.

“An hour ago.”

“I knew last night, the minute I saw your eyes. I’ve never forgotten them. I verified your name with my mom. She’s got a memory like an elephant. Reminded me of the whole story.”

He touched her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her. She looked up into his face, as if seeing him for the first time.

The boy she remembered had turned into a man. His dominant features were still there. A distinct jawline, expressive eyes, but time and some sort of tragedy had changed his insides.

“Which story would that be? There are so many.” A hint of discomfort jabbed her heart as she swallowed her anticipation. Her memories of that day were cloudy; maybe his could help to drive the fog away.

“Children’s services came and took you. Mom remembered the insignia on the car…then someone from the state came for your mother.”

Sorrow, deep and raw, penetrated her soul. She’d been given the information by her adoptive parents. It had been so long ago that the story had lost its edge, but hearing Kade describe it brought it all back.

“They said she was crazy, that she couldn’t handle raising a child. But they were wrong. She was psychic, not mental. Did she fight? Did she struggle to stay?”

“I don’t know.”

Savannah hung her head, haunted by the whispers of the past. The despair she’d felt, the confusion and loneliness.

“What happened to her after they took her?”

His concern wrapped around her; she could feel it like a caress. “She died several years later in a mental institution. I was adopted by the Dawsons, and here I am.” She’d left out a dark decade, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing there she cared to revisit.

“You still own this place?”

“Yeah. My mom left it to me. It’s a rental right now. What about your house?”

“My mom’s place is going on the market…well, it was until the fire. She’s back until she finds another apartment building.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. It’s home.”

“Do you remember doing it?”

He hung his head, then looked up. “I remember the jolt, and I think I supplied the razor blade and you brought the Band-Aids.”

She had to smile now as she pulled the full memory into focus. The trouble she’d had slicing into her own finger without flinching, being shocked when blood oozed out of the cut. Feeling a wondrous sense of belonging as they locked their fingers together, mixing their blood and making a promise to one another. “A couple of silly kids trying to stay linked forever.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

She swallowed, overcome with emotion, lost in the odd sensation generating between them. “Yeah, better than we could have imagined, but I’m not sure I like free passage on your train of thought.”

“And you think it’s a thrill ride for me? I’m new at this. What do you say we get a cold drink and you give me some pointers on mind reading?”

“I’d like that.” She let him take her elbow and steer her toward the gate. It took everything she had, but she put up a mental wall between them. She didn’t want to know his thoughts and feelings about that day before he verbalized them. She wanted it fresh, she wanted to hear them firsthand.

When they reached the gate, he pulled her up short and stared down into her face. “All I want to know is why you hide the color of your eyes.”

“It keeps people from freaking out. I got tired of the stares. It was easier to disguise them with brown contacts than to take the gasps of horror, like I was some sort of demon child from the Village of the Damned, able to melt small children with a single glare.”

“I understand. If I remember right, they matched my best cleary marble. I always thought they were cool, but it wasn’t something I could explain to my buddies. They would have kicked me out of the fort.”

“Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Let me get my purse and lock my car.”

Kade held the gate open and followed her into the driveway, enjoying the sway of her hips, but the sightseeing ended when he spotted a pickup truck parked across the street and watched a lanky man climb out and move in their direction.

“Oh, no!”

“What is it?” He refocused on Savannah.

“It’s gone! My purse is gone.” Disappointment choked her voice.

“You’re sure you didn’t take it into the yard?”

“Yes.”

He took her arm. “Let’s call the police. File a report. The sooner you cancel your credit cards, the better.”

“Hi. Are you the landlord?”

Kade glanced up at the man who’d walked across the street and now stood in the driveway next to them.

“No. I think you want Ms. Dawson.”

“If she owns this yellow house, then I guess I do.”

He didn’t like the way the man devoured Savannah with his gaze or the satisfied smile that followed.

“Ms. Dawson, I’m Todd Coleman, your new tenant.”

Savannah looked up at the jean-clad man addressing her and offering his hand. She shook it, momentarily forgetting her missing purse and key ring.

“Doctor Savannah Dawson. Pleased to meet you, but I don’t have a key. You’ll have to stop by the rental agency for that.”

“Done.” He pulled a key out of his pocket. “Picked it up this morning. This is a great place. I knew I had to have it the first time I saw it.”

“You’re planning to move in today?”

“Yeah.”

Kade felt caution sluice in his veins, but he couldn’t locate a source for the feeling. Savannah’s new tenant was slick, and he wasn’t sure that there wasn’t some jealousy mixed in with his concern.

“Great…Mr. Coleman, is it?” Kade eyed him tentatively.

“Yeah.”

“Any chance you saw someone around Ms. Dawson’s car in the last ten minutes?”

Kade gauged his reaction, but he had a poker face under a layer of tanned skin.

“As a matter of fact, I did see a guy hanging around. I think he was driving a red car…high-end. Why? What’s the problem?”

“Ms. Dawson’s purse has been stolen.”

“Damn. That’s tough.”

The reaction sounded genuine and Kade relaxed, letting go of his caution.

“I see you work for the fire department. Are you a fireman?” Coleman pointed at the insignia on the department vehicle parked in the driveway next door.

“I used to be.” Disappointment gelled in his veins. “I’m an arson investigator now.”

“That’s cool. You don’t get to race into burning buildings anymore, but you get to figure out who torched them?”

“Something like that.”

“I always wanted to get on with the department.”

“Really.” Kade studied Coleman’s frame. “You should look into it. The department can always use new recruits. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to call the police and file a report.”

“If you need me to tell the cops what I saw, you know where to find me.”

“I have a spare key at home. I’ll get my car out of the driveway later today,” Savannah said.

“No problem.” Todd Coleman turned toward the street.

Kade took Savannah’s elbow and walked her toward his house. He could feel Coleman’s eyes on his back, but he resisted the urge to turn around. Instead, he zoned on the feel of his fingers against her bare skin, absorbing the odd transfer of current from her body into his.

That’s when it hit him. He was walking normally. The pain in his hip had subsided.

She wasn’t only psychic—she was a living, breathing, pain annihilator.



HE BRUSHED HIS HAND across the pillow and closed his eyes, imagining her head on it, her hair fanned out in contrast against the crisp white linen.

Pulling in a deep breath, he honed in on her scent in the room, her room, a place he’d been many times…but never with her. Breaking in felt so wrong, but he knew where the spare key was.

He sobered, opened his eyes and tamped down the irritation flaring in his veins.

She would come to care for him. He already knew her secret. Coaxed it, fed it. Her affection couldn’t be far behind.

His heart drummed in his chest as he wandered into the bathroom, bent on somehow telling her, making her understand the flames were for her.

Then it would only be a matter of time before she recognized how much he wanted her. She would return his love. Lie in his arms until dawn penetrated the night….




Chapter Four


Savannah stared at the front of her house from the passenger seat of Kade’s vehicle.

It was late, dark, and she hadn’t bothered to turn on the porch light. A shiver rattled through her. Leaving her purse and keys unprotected in the car had been a stupid mistake. Who knew a lapse in judgment would leave her feeling so vulnerable.

“Let’s go inside. I’ll check it out, and we’ll wait for the locksmith to show up.”

She was glad Kade was with her. “Works for me, but I’m sure everything is fine. If he did use my key to get inside, he’d probably steal items he could pawn and be out of there before he got caught.”

“Probably.”

She didn’t like the note of uncertainty in his voice. She climbed out of the car and made her way up the front walkway with Kade next to her.

“I keep a spare key in the flower pot.” She bent over, fished the key out of the large terra-cotta pot, brimming with flowers, and dusted the potting soil off with her fingertips.

“Now that’s some kind of security.”

“This is a quiet neighborhood. This key is perfectly safe in that pot, and I refuse to believe differently.”

“Huh. A Pollyanna. Too bad the thieves only want to jerk on your pigtails, while they make off with your stuff.”

She slid the key into the knob, apprehension bunching her muscles as she glared at him in the dark. It wasn’t wrong to think the best of people, unless her vibes told her otherwise, but she’d have to be more careful in the future.

Her tension released with the decisive click of the lock. Turning the knob, she stepped into the foyer and pulled in a deep breath, but her relief was short-lived.

The air held an unfamiliar scent, a tangle of male cologne and sweat.

Pausing, she fiddled for the light switch and flipped it on. “Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?”

“Aftershave.” She pulled in another breath, but the scent had dissipated.

Kade closed the door and shot her a concerned glance. “I don’t smell anything, but then this isn’t my house. I wouldn’t know one foreign odor from another.”

She moved toward him, determined to find out if he was the source. “Did you shower this morning?”

“Like clockwork, darlin’.”

Warmth crept into her cheeks. “Mind if I check?”

“Be my guest.” He raised his hands in a surrender position, a slow mysterious smile on his lips.

She circled him. Sucking in the air around him. His scent was earthy and seductive. Miles away from the smell she’d encountered moments ago. His essence invaded her senses, taking her prisoner as a rush of desire revved her body. It was anything but offensive; in fact, she could easily imagine holding his shirt to her nose and breathing him in, like she’d seen her mother do before she’d put one of her dad’s shirts into the washing machine.

She swallowed, caught off guard by the intimate images inside her head and hoping he hadn’t intercepted them.

“No. Definitely not you. But someone has been in my house. Maybe we should call the police, again.”

“Let’s have a look around.”

She gazed into Kade’s face and tried to relax. He was as tense as she was, but why?

He could easily take on anything or anyone. She knew that about him. Felt it in her soul. He was strong and lean, muscle, bone and determination, but something held him back. Kept him from his strengths. Her gaze drifted to his cane.

His knuckles blanched white on the top of the crook and his reasons hit her like a physical punch.

“You can stop now.”

“Stop what?” She walked into the living room, flipping on lights as she went, knowing full well what he meant.

“Digging for information in my head. I’ve figured out how to keep you out.”

“Really?” She slipped into the kitchen and turned on the dual fluorescent over the island.

A chill pushed through her body, stalling her in place.

She could feel Kade inches from her back, feel the whisper of his breath against her hair.

“What is it?”

“That.” She pointed to the double place settings neatly arranged on the island. She leaned into him, pulling some of his strength around her.

“I’d like to think you did this beforehand, sort of a premonition that we’d be here tonight, alone. But I’ll take your caution to mean that’s a no?”

Fear laced around her heart and she tried to smile at his joke, but couldn’t quite grasp the humor. The place settings were harmless; it was the reasoning behind them that worried her.

“Let’s call a locksmith. If he used my stolen keys to get in, I can’t let it happen again.”

Kade moved past her and picked up the phone book off the workstation. “Take it easy, Savannah. He might have left a print. We’ll get Nick’s team in here. Maybe they can find something.”

“Are you kidding? Look at the settings, they’re perfect.” She judged the distance between the plates and the edge of the counter. “I’d bet you both plates are exactly one inch from the edge of the island. The silverware is laid out to perfection. Even the napkins are fanned in an outstanding accordion fold.”

“So the guy’s a waiter in a five-star. He still broke into your house.”

“Correction, entered with a key. Do you really think there will be any prints?”

Kade leaned against the counter and considered her dead-on observations. She had a point, a rather sharp one. Whoever had put the settings together was the son of Miss Manners or an anal waiter on his night off. Either way, he had a bad feeling about it.

“Don’t know, but I’m calling Brandt, a locksmith and the takeout joint, in that order.” He threw her a sideways glance and saw her smile. The gesture set his heart rate on the fast track. He turned back to the phone, punched in Nick’s number and gave him the info, listening to Savannah rattle off her address from over his shoulder. He hung up the phone and turned toward her. “Chinese?”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jan-hambright/on-fire/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.