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Melting Point
Melting Point
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Melting Point

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Collier gave her a sharp look. “Had it gotten that bad?”

“That’s what I heard.”

He probed the crowded room for Kiley, wondering who she was talking to, if she had learned anything new about Lazano. His gaze shifted back to the corner he’d just scanned.

She stood there huddled next to a coat closet talking to Gwen. She hadn’t told him she planned to interview his ex, but he could tell by the intent way she listened that interviewing was exactly what she was doing. And she’d left him out of the loop. No doubt his name had come up at least once. The whole idea of the two women talking about him made Collier queasy. He started for them, wondering who had identified Gwen to Kiley as his ex.

As he walked up, he heard Kiley say, “Thanks for your time. If I have any other questions, I’ll be in touch.”

“We’ll probably both be in touch,” he said as much for her benefit as Gwen’s.

His ex pivoted to face him. “Oh, Collier. Hello.”

Her greeting was subdued, as was her makeup and clothing. Subdued for Gwen, anyway. She was pale, her brown eyes red and swollen from crying. The black, long-sleeved sheath she wore could’ve been painted on her slender frame. Next to Kiley Russell’s vibrant coloring and personality, his former fiancée seemed almost bland.

He had expected to feel at least a twinge of his old anger toward the blonde, but instead he felt sorry for her. She looked uncertain and troubled.

“Why would you need to talk to me, too?” she asked.

“I just transferred into the fire investigator’s office.”

“I didn’t know.” She stepped closer, her gaze locked on his.

He shifted back until his heel bumped the wall. “This is my first official case.”

“I thought the police investigated mur—things like this.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

“Since this was a murder at a fire scene, the police and fire departments work together.” He gave Kiley a pointed look over Gwen’s head.

His ex nodded, though Collier wasn’t sure she really registered his words. Kiley stood quietly to the side, studying him with the intensity of a bird dog on point.

Gwen crumpled her tissue into a ball. “This is just awful, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “Can we talk later?”

“About Lazano?”

“No.”

The plea in her eyes said she wanted to talk about them, but they were finished. He’d never felt it with such finality. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t interested. “If you think of anything else about Lazano, we need to know.”

Gwen’s face crumpled and tears welled in her eyes. “Collier, I’m so sorry. For everything.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Feeling caged, he pulled a handkerchief out of his suit coat and pressed it into her hand. “This is a bad day for everyone. Don’t beat yourself up, Gwen.”

He turned and caught Shelby’s eye, motioning her over. “Let Shelby take you to your car.”

Gwen studied him for a moment, resignation finally crossing her features. She turned to Kiley. “I hope I helped.”

“You did. Thanks.” Kiley smiled.

Collier watched as Shelby guided Gwen through the crowd and toward the front door. From the corner of his eye, he caught Kiley moving away, too.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He snagged her elbow and pulled her back.

“Watch it, McClain.”

“You watch it,” he said in a low voice, turning so he could block her escape with his body. “Leaving me out of the loop like that could be construed as breaking procedure. Why did you do it?”

“I’m in the clear on this.” She pulled away from his hold, though she stayed with her back pressed against the wall. “I figured your name would come up when I talked to your ex. She was more likely to give me honest answers without you around.”

Someone squeezed behind him, and he leaned closer to her, teased by her soft scent. “So what did Gwen tell you? And don’t leave anything out.”

“I think she’s still hung up on you.”

Collier rubbed the nape of his neck. “She’s just confused. Why interview her here, anyway?”

“I tried to talk to her last night, but she only returned a few hours ago from a ski trip in Colorado. She agreed to talk to me here.”

“So, she knew about Lazano’s murder?”

“Her mom called and told her.” Kiley watched him carefully.

“Did you ask her about the last time she saw him?”

“She said it was two weeks ago, the night they called it quits.”

“You sound skeptical.”

“I’m wondering if her memory’s reliable. She told me she has a drinking problem.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think?” Kiley pressed. “Is she reliable?”

“I don’t know. She was at one time.”

She paused, her blue-green eyes meeting his. “Were you ever going to tell me your ex-fiancée’s name?”

“If you’d asked me, I would have.” He hadn’t wanted to tell her as much as he already had. “Does knowing who she is have anything to do with our investigation, Detective?” He lowered his voice, trying to rattle her. “Or are you asking for personal reasons?”

He was surprised to see a dull flush color her cheeks.

She shrugged. “Just connecting the dots.”

“You obviously would’ve figured it out when you learned she was Lazano’s ex, too.”

“I realize his murder is even more personal to you than the others because of Miss Hadley. Are you going to have a problem working this case?”

“It’s not like there’s any choice.” He wanted her to shut up about this whole thread of conversation. “Terra’s out on maternity leave. It’s you and me. The end.”

“So you can put aside your personal feel—”

“Yes,” he bit out. Collier’s usually even temper spiked. “If there’s a screw up, Russell, it won’t be because of me.”

She searched his eyes, then nodded. “Okay. Well, I want to check Gwen’s alibi for the night Lazano was killed and make sure she was really in Colorado like she said.”

“I can make some calls.”

“I will.”

“You can’t cut me out of everything.”

She eyed him coolly. “All right, you do it.”

“Done.” He wondered if things would always be so prickly with her. “On the way here, I stopped at each station house to show the picture of the fake firefighter.”

“Wow, the lab got to that really fast.”

He nodded. “Your copy is in my truck.”

“Did anyone recognize the guy?”

“No. Station One did tell me that some of their gear turned up missing in late September.”

“So that would coincide with when these fire murders started. Too bad we can’t find Mr. Fake in any of the earlier fire scene videos.” She brushed her hair over her shoulder.

Just once he’d like to get his hands in those red curls. “I can give you that photo print before we leave.”

“Great. Want to meet me outside in about fifteen minutes?”

“It’s a date,” he said.

“No—”

“Figure of speech, Russell. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Her eyes flashed. “You’re safe, McClain. Completely safe.”

He watched her walk away, totally hypnotized by the length of those legs and tried to remember why safe was what he wanted.

About seven-thirty the next evening, Kiley walked through the glass doors of Presley’s two-story community center. She’d been ordered by Lt. Hager to attend tonight’s dedication and grand unveiling of the new facility.

Though not fancy, the gray tiled floors were tasteful, as were the faux marble walls. The lobby stretched the length of the rectangular shaped building. Hallways on either side led to several rooms that would serve as meeting places for city employees as well as citizens’ events. The upper floor provided more space. Four sets of doors ahead of her opened into the large all-purpose room being used for tonight’s dedication.

After leaving her coat with a volunteer, she stepped through the nearest set of doors and took in the expansive area decorated with streamers and blue, white and gold balloons. A wooden stage centered at the opposite end of the room held a five-member band tuning their instruments. A cash bar was set up in the corner close to the stage.

The mayor, various city councilmen and women, and other city leaders strolled around. Kiley glimpsed the governor deep in conversation with Chief of Police Nick Smith. She spoke to several police officers who had shown up because they’d gotten the same memo she had from Lt. Hager. As she moved through the crowd, she recognized a few firefighters, too. All the men were dressed in suits or uniforms. The women sparkled in dressy, after-five attire. A tall blonde in a tight, black sequined dress cut down to there caught Kiley’s attention.

She had to look twice to make sure the woman wasn’t Gwen Hadley. The relief she felt reminded her of the earlier meeting with Collier’s former fiancée. Kiley typically didn’t feel out of her league with either men or women, but standing next to Gwen at that wake had made her feel invisible. The woman had flawless skin and a flawless figure, but she obviously had her share of problems, too. Kiley felt more sure of herself now, but she was still less steady than she liked around Presley’s newest fire investigator.

It was because of the emotion she’d seen in his eyes yesterday as he’d talked to his ex. The momentary flash of old hurt on his face had tapped at something deep inside Kiley. Gwen had made it clear she wanted to talk to Collier in private, but he had kindly refused. He’d probably been more kind than Kiley would’ve been if their roles were reversed.

The image of a solicitous Collier McClain certainly didn’t match that of the footloose bachelor she had heard about or seen at the Christmas dance. She told herself to forget about that emotion in his eyes, but for a brief period, she’d glimpsed the man. Not the fire investigator or the reputed Romeo, but a man who’d been hurt by a woman. She pushed away the thought. Emotions—his and hers—came a distant second to the business she needed to conduct with Collier. And business was all she cared about.

They had gotten no identification from the photo of the fake fireman, and they had spent the morning looking at mugshots. No luck there, either. They had begun sending e-mails and faxes to a list of surrounding prisons in Oklahoma, Texas and Louisiana, asking if any of them had recently released an arsonist.

Kiley’s afternoon had been taken up in court waiting to testify on a burglary arrest, and Collier had offered to finish sending the queries to the prisons. She hadn’t heard from him since before lunch when he’d told her Gwen Hadley’s alibi was solid. She wondered if he had learned anything new.

She expected he would be at tonight’s dedication, representing the fire investigator’s office in Terra’s absence. After Kiley spoke to Chief Smith and exchanged a few words with Lt. Hager and his wife, she made her way to the cash bar and ordered a ginger ale.

Despite the freezing temperatures outdoors and the veed back of her dress, the crowd of people inside kept her more than warm. It didn’t take long to spot Collier dancing in the center of the carpeted room. He wasn’t the tallest man here, so why had her gaze gone straight to him as if reeled there?

She should go ask him if he had any new information, but she couldn’t bring herself to stand near the stream of women who kept asking him to dance. In a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and muted red tie, he looked distinguished and commanding. He was clean shaven, the overhead light blunting the sharp angles of his jaw-and cheekbones, and still his appearance was rugged. She’d thought him blatantly male in his turnout gear, but the effect tonight was devastating. She could appreciate a gorgeous man even if she didn’t want him.

Recalling the bare chest she’d seen at his house, she knew the broad shoulders beneath that jacket were every bit real and not an illusion created by good tailoring.

Kiley hated these types of events, where she had to dress to the nines and schmooze with city officials. She would much rather be talking to the residents of Presley, for whom this center had been built, but Collier looked at ease as he chatted with members of city government who danced past him.

Watching him move on and off the dance floor with obscene regularity, Kiley saw no trace of the wounded man from yesterday. Just the heartbreaker she’d heard about, the one she planned to avoid. As a high-tempo dance song ended, he escorted Shelby Fox off the floor, and the pair joined a group in a corner that included Kiley’s sister, Kristin.

Deciding she’d rather talk to him in a crowd as opposed to alone, Kiley made her way toward the corner. She recognized Clay Jessup, the lanky cop who stood between her sister and Shelby, but the man to her sister’s left was unfamiliar. Kristin’s hair was the same dark gold as their mother’s, with enough wave to coax it into whatever style she wanted. Tonight she wore it down and loose, just as Kiley did. The fluttery white blouse she had paired with Kiley’s long black satin skirt was as dressy as the bronze knee-length dress Kiley had chosen.

More than one guy had asked Kristin to dance, but Kiley noted Collier hadn’t. Probably because he’d been too busy dancing with everyone else.

She walked up to the edge of the group, and her sister smiled. “Hi, Ki.”

“Hello.”

Kristin pulled her into the circle. “Does everyone know my sister?”

“Hey, Russell.” Clay Jessup smiled and Shelby waved.

Kiley and Clay had gone through the police academy together, and she knew Shelby because the woman was one of Clay’s closest friends. Kristin introduced Trey Vance, a computer technician from her office.

Kiley felt Collier’s gaze burning her skin and finally met his eyes. “Hello, McClain.”

“Detective.” His gaze skated over her body, and reaction clenched her belly.

Why, why, why did she have to feel anything? Determined to ignore the drumming pull of awareness she felt, she started to move next to him and ask if they’d had any responses yet from the prisons. Someone tapped on the microphone situated on the small stage a few feet away, and she paused.

After a few seconds of screeching feedback, Mayor Griffin greeted everyone and encouraged applause for the band as its members left the stage for a break. The mayor then invited everyone’s attention to the newly completed building and this spacious room, which would host community events such as senior citizen exercise classes or the citizens’ police academy.

The shiny wooden stage steps were trimmed with the same blue-and-gray flecked carpet that covered the floor and complemented the blue walls. The large space, which could be partitioned off to make four rooms, sparkled with the shine of newness. After a few moments the mayor introduced everyone who had worked on the community center’s planning committee.

When he introduced prominent criminal defense attorney Raye Ballinger, Trey Vance said, loud enough for their small circle, “I can’t believe they let her serve on the committee. The best thing the ‘Ball Basher’ could do for Presley would be to leave.”