Melting Point Read online

  Collier clapped the older man on the back. “Thanks, Cap.”

  “The origin is in the bedroom, if you want to start there. Let me know if you find something I missed.”

  “I imagine you’re right about the cause, but I’ll keep you posted.”

  As he and Kiley mounted the stairs to Narr’s apartment, she glanced back at Sandusky. “Are the captains supposed to make determinations about how fires start?”

  “It’s okay as long as they back up their findings with reports and documentation. Sandusky’s very thorough and he’s rabid about documenting everything. I expect to find the fire was started by the iron being left on.”

  “But? I can hear a but in there.” She followed him into Narr’s apartment, speaking to the firefighters she recognized.

  The apartment consisted of the small living area and attached kitchen, one bedroom and one bathroom. The blaze had been doused before it had traveled too far into the living area.

  Collier tugged off one heavy glove and reached in his pocket to hand Kiley a pair of Latex ones. They stopped in the bedroom doorway and he scrutinized the room for a couple of minutes.

  He looked at the ceiling that had been chewed through by flame, the charred wall behind the dresser. The glass in the window opposite him was heat-cracked as fine as a spider-web. His gaze went to the iron, which sat on the corner of an old oak dresser.

  Coning—the way a fire starts from a particular point then spreads in a fan-or conelike pattern—told him that the fire had started at the appliance. The dresser’s surface was heavily blackened in the area immediately beneath and around the appliance. The dry iron had caught fire; flames latched on to the dresser then spread up the wall behind. He finally answered Kiley’s question. “Just because the iron started this fire doesn’t mean it was an accident.”

  “You mean Narr could’ve done this on purpose so it’d look like an accident?” She followed him farther into the room.

  “I’ve seen it before.”

  “Maybe someone tried to kill Narr.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “We talked to him about Lazano’s murder twenty-four hours ago, and today his place catches fire? That seems too coincidental to me.”

  “A woman after my own heart.” Collier saw her stiffen at the phrase and he tried to dismiss it. “If Narr did start this fire on purpose, maybe it was to destroy something he didn’t want found.”

  “That really makes me want to look around,” she murmured.

  “Even if he did deliberately leave on the iron, we may not be able to prove it. I fought a fire once where a man who owned a dry cleaners used his clothes steamer to set a blaze, but nothing could ever be proven. About three years later, the fire investigator at the time, Harris Vaughn, told me that the business owner was caught doing the same thing in another state.”

  “How did they prove it wasn’t an accident? Can it be proved?”

  “The fire department in Colorado Springs had a string of fires with the same cause. They investigated, talked to the business owner and did a background check to see if he was involved in any previous fires. He confessed to the one here and about a dozen others over a three-state area.”

  “How long did he keep pulling that stunt?”

  “About ten years.”

  “I see your point about not being able to prove if a fire like this was an accident. People do leave appliances on all the time. Since we’re here, ‘responding to the scene,’” she said with a sly grin, “we should take a good look around.”

  “You’re reading my mind. Maybe we’ll find something that’ll tie Narr to Lazano’s murder.”

  He opened the closet door. An ironing board rested face-out against the wall to his right. Muddy work boots, a pair of scuffed tennis shoes and a clump of dirty clothes made a pile on the closet floor.

  Kiley moved up beside him, the narrow doorway causing her to lean in from the side in order to see. Her body brushed his, and he fought the urge to slide an arm around her and pull her into him. He’d never had this much trouble concentrating at work. Forget seeing her tomorrow. He had to see her tonight.

  When her body touched Collier’s, Kiley knew it was time. She was way too aware of him and his big, warm body. Even beneath the smoke, she caught the blend of tang and man that was uniquely him. She had to break things off before she got in over her head. The way he’d kissed her last night had flashed WARNING in big neon letters. She’d wanted to melt into him, forget everything she’d learned in the past about guys who moved from woman to woman. But she couldn’t forget.

  She’d gotten involved with him knowing it would be temporary, needing it to be temporary. And that’s what it was.

  Collier glanced at the empty overhead shelf, then moved the ironing board away from the wall. A hollow clang sounded as something fell against the metal then into the corner.

  “Look!” they said at the same time.

  Kiley’s jaw dropped as her gaze met Collier’s. It was a rifle, like their murder weapon. Without touching anything, they both peered closer and found that it used the same caliber ammunition as had been used on their murder victims.

  “Now, this is good.”

  Collier’s breath fluttered against her ear, and his low, smooth drawl sent a shiver through her. She straightened when he did, trying to pretend she didn’t want to get him alone somewhere and rip off his clothes.

  “Finally a lead,” she said, slightly breathless and a whole lot irritated about it. “Let’s pay Narr a visit at work.”

  “Definitely.” Collier’s gaze roamed over her with enough heat to melt rock.

  She stepped away, unclipped her cell phone from the waistband of her slacks and called for a crime scene investigator.

  Collier indicated he was going out and she heard him move back toward the living area, telling the firefighters to hold off on further overhaul until the CSI arrived and had a chance to go over the scene. As she walked out to join him, she called to request that a black-and-white meet them at the fast-food joint where Narr worked.

  Fifteen minutes later Dominic Narr strolled from the kitchen of his workplace. “I don’t have nothing else to say to y’all.”

  “Thought we should tell you that your apartment just burned.”

  Shock wiped the smug look off his face. “What! Burned? How?”

  “Looks like you left the iron on.”

  “I didn’t iron nothing!”

  “It doesn’t matter to us if you did or didn’t. What we care about is what we found in your bedroom closet.”

  “Is everything gone?” he snarled.

  “Not the sniper rifle,” Kiley said sweetly.

  “Sniper—”

  “You’re under arrest for violating your parole. Having a firearm in your possession is a big no-no. Once the CSI goes over that gun, I imagine there will be other charges.”

  Narr’s face changed from panic to fury as Kiley pulled one arm behind his back and snapped on one cuff then the other while she read him his rights.

  The ex-con shook his head. “I don’t have no rifle.”

  “And yet one has magically appeared, tucked in behind your ironing board. Sorta clever. If that gun’s not yours, how did it get there?”

  “I sure didn’t put it there. And I didn’t burn down my apartment, either. I wasn’t even there! Ask my boss. I’ve been here since seven this morning.”

  If the iron had been purposely left on in order to start a fire, the appliance would have served as a timing device, giving the arsonist time to get away from the scene well before the fire started.

  Collier stepped up and took the guy’s beefy arm. “Hiding that rifle in your apartment was some kind of stupid, Narr.”

  “I’m a lot of things, but stupid ain’t one of ’em! I’m sayin’ that gun ain’t mine. I don’t know how it got here.”

  “Hmm.” Kiley pretended to consider. “I think you’re the first person to ever tell me that.”

  “I swear on my mother’s grave.”


  “Never heard that one, either.”

  He let loose with a string of heated curses. When she turned the ex-con over to the two patrol cops she’d requested, Kiley told them that she had read the suspect his rights, but they should do it again, for good measure.

  As the uniforms escorted him down the concrete steps, he tried one last time. “Detective, that’s not my gun. Why would I violate my parole?”

  “Maybe you like life better in the joint than out. You wouldn’t be the first con to feel that way.”

  “No! I don’t! I want to see my attorney, Raye Ballinger.”

  “Why am I not surprised he’s one of her clients?” Kiley braced her hands on her hips as she and Collier watched Officer Hanson stuff the prisoner, still swearing, into the back seat of his cruiser.

  Collier waited until the black-and-white left before turning to her. “That was way too easy.”

  “Yeah. And too neat. If Narr did set that fire, did he really think the gun would burn up?”

  “Most people think flame destroys everything, but it doesn’t.”

  For a moment she stared down at the concrete landing. “Play ‘what if’ with me. What if Raye is our murderer? Say she hired Narr, a client she’s represented more than once, to get her an untraceable gun and take care of disabling the security system at Rehn’s warehouse.”

  Collier nodded. “Say the only people who know about this are Narr and Ballinger. When we went to see her yesterday, maybe she figured that our anonymous tip came from him, which it could have.”

  “To get the focus of the investigation off her and back on him, she plants the rifle, leaves a dry iron on to catch fire and takes off.”

  “Great theory.” Collier dragged a hand down his face. “Wish we could prove it. Right now we can’t prove anything about anyone.”

  She punched in a number on her cell phone. “I want to ask the CSI to put a rush on the tests for that rifle and the ammunition. We need to know ASAP if we’ve got the right suspect.”

  A couple of hours later they still weren’t sure, but they had booked Narr into custody. The entire time they’d taken his statement, he’d sworn to his innocence. Kiley actually believed the guy hadn’t known about the gun, but without proof that he’d been set up, nothing could be done. Narr’s having the weapon at all was a violation of his parole, so he was going back to prison, no matter what.

  Judging from Collier’s somberness, he wasn’t convinced Narr was their guy, either. Still they wrote up their reports and filed them.

  By the time they finished their paperwork, it was after seven o’clock. Unless the lab found something, she and Collier had nowhere else to go on the investigation. Or their relationship, either.

  Her stomach was a mass of knots. It was best to just talk to Collier and get it over with. She probably never should’ve gotten involved with him, but she’d done so with her eyes wide-open. She didn’t regret a minute of being with him, but it was time to let him move on before she got in way over her head.

  They walked out of the police department into the brittle cold and stopped beside her car. She could see her breath on the air. A cloud scudded across a silver crescent moon. She felt him studying her and fought the urge to blurt out what she wanted to say. Anxious to have it done, her nerves were raw. He wouldn’t make a big deal out of this, so neither would she.

  “Let’s go grab some dinner,” he said.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  His dusky green gaze locked on hers. “We need to talk.”

  “I know.” Despite her best effort, her voice was unsteady. “We can talk right here if you want.”

  He glanced around at the other cars in the lot, frowning. “I don’t. Your house or mine?”

  She’d feel more in control on her own turf. “Mine.”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  Part of her wished things could be different. That he could, would commit to her, and only her. But she knew guys with his MO didn’t do “forever.” She’d learned that from her dad and from David.

  She parked in her garage, and as Collier pulled into the driveway, she walked through the house and let him in the front door. “The lab tech called on the way here to tell me they found a cartridge in the gun, and there’s a fingerprint on it. They’re running it now.”

  “Good.” As he moved past her into the living room, he shrugged out of his overcoat, then draped it over the back of her sofa.

  She stayed at the edge of the carpet, fighting the urge to move closer, to touch him one last time.

  His gaze settled on her, knowing and steady. It put a quiver in her belly. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Blaze.”

  It’s been great. See ya around. She couldn’t bring herself to be so blasé. “I’ve been thinking about what Raye said last night. About us.”

  “I told you she was just blowing smoke.”

  “She was right, Collier. If this case goes to trial, which we both want, what if our affair comes out? It could look bad for both of us, for the city, too. It’s not worth risking our jobs over.”

  He closed the distance between them, looking down at her. “I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

  “But we have to consider the possibility.”

  He searched her face. “Is that what this is really about? Or are you having second thoughts about us?”

  “I haven’t had any first thoughts about us, McClain. There is no us.” Her reaction was pure knee jerk. “It’s been great. You’ve been great, but—”

  “But you want to break things off.”

  “We agreed this was only temporary.”

  “No, Blaze. We didn’t agree. You made that decision on your own, and that isn’t what I want.”

  “What do you want, then?”

  “Us, together.” He cupped her shoulders but didn’t try to draw her closer. “I like what we’ve got going. I don’t want to end things.”

  “You mean, you don’t want to end them right now?” Something hot and tight grabbed her throat. “This is the best time, Collier. Even though we don’t believe this investigation is entirely finished, it’s close.”

  “I don’t care when the case is solved. I don’t want to break things off at all.”

  How long would that last? “It was fun, but now it’s over. It’s time to move on. That’s what you do.”

  “Not this time. This time, I want more.”

  A huge wave of alarm swamped her. Stepping away, she crossed her arms, as much to hide her shaking hands as to try and steady herself. “Then you’ve got the wrong girl.”

  “No, I don’t.” Collier had half expected her words, but her vehemence hit him with surprising force.

  Her jaw dropped, then she recovered. “Don’t change the rules on me.”

  “I’m telling you how I feel, Kiley. I thought women were supposed to like that.”

  “Not every time,” she muttered.

  “I’m just telling the truth. I’m nuts about you, Blaze.”

  She shook her head and walked past him with a doubtful look, shrugging out of her long coat and tossing it on the couch. “Then why haven’t you said anything before now?”

  “Look at you.” He turned, hiding a smile. Be patient, he told himself. When she found out he was serious, she’d admit she didn’t want this to end, either. “Any time I say a word about us being together for more than a day at a time, you get this look like I just poisoned you. I wanted to give you time to realize you feel the same way I do.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I feel.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, her eyes stormy and troubled. “What matters is what I know.”

  “Or what you think you do,” he muttered, shoving a hand through his hair. “Do you think I’m going to hop out of your bed and straight into someone else’s? I haven’t looked at, much less thought about another woman since I met you. That was after our one dance at Christmas, before we even started working together.”

  “I thought we were on the same page. You do
n’t want any strings. I don’t want any strings.”

  “I do, Blaze. With you.”

  Looking completely baffled, she huffed out a breath. “What is it? Do you want to be the one to walk first like you always do? Fine.”

  “No! I don’t want to be first. I don’t want to walk at all.”

  “You’ll get tired of me. One. Woman,” she emphasized. “Think about that.”

  “I am thinking about it,” he growled. “Look, I know my reputation. I did that on purpose after Gwen because I didn’t want to get mowed down again, but who I am underneath hasn’t changed. It took you to make me see that, to make me want to be that way again. I’ve only had three girlfriends in my whole life and I nearly married one of them. All long-term relationships, all monogamous. And I was never the one to leave. I’m not leaving this time, either.”

  “What we have is only physical. What you wanted.”

  “I never said that. You did.”

  “But…this wasn’t the deal.”

  “What deal? I was gonna back off and you jumped me. I say all bets are off.”

  “We’re not supposed to get this involved.” She looked close to panic. “I don’t want to.”

  “Kiley.” Hesitantly, he reached out. When she didn’t back away, he stroked her cheek. “I know it’s hard to trust after what your dad did.”

  “It’s not just him.”

  Collier frowned.

  “You asked me that first night about my past relationships. I was in love once, with a guy named David.” She stepped away, unclipping her holstered Taurus from her waistband as she walked to the bookcase-table along the wall behind the front door. “I dated him from our junior year in high school until our junior year in college. He was the school bad boy until we got together, then he settled down. Or so I thought.”

  Placing her gun and badge on the dark wood surface, she let out a sharp laugh. Collier could hear the pain beneath it.

  “We were together almost five years. I believed he’d changed but I was wrong. I caught him with another woman and it nearly killed me. I was so proud of myself for falling in love with a man completely unlike my father,” she said scornfully. “After being with David for so long, you’d think I would’ve known him better. I learned the hard way that even reformed bad boys like him, who seemed trustworthy, couldn’t be trusted. I’ve never let myself forget.”