“You really are a beautiful woman, you know.”
She straightened, doing her best to look indignant even as a warmth insisted on spreading through her. “I’d rather be thought of as an intelligent, sharp woman, not a beautiful one.”
He saw no conflict in that. “You can be both,” he answered matter-of-factly, then added more softly, “You are both.”
Kansas frowned. Oh, he was a charmer, this temporary partner of hers. He was probably accustomed to women dropping like flies whenever he decided to lay it on. Well, he was in for a surprise. She wasn’t going to let herself believe a word coming out of his mouth, no matter how tempting that was or how guileless he sounded as he delivered those words. She’d had the infection and gotten the cure. She was never going to allow herself to be led astray again. Ever.
“Don’t you know that ingesting too much sugar can lead to diabetes?” she asked sarcastically.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he promised, not bothering to keep a straight face. “Were the cross streets for that discount house Culver and Bryan?”
“Culver and Trabuco,” she corrected.
As soon as she said it, he remembered. “That’s right.” He laughed shortly. “After a while, all the names and descriptions start running together.”
“Not to me,” she informed him crisply. “Each and every one of the buildings are different. Like people,” she added.
The way she said it, he knew she wasn’t trying to sound high-handed or find fault with him. She meant it. It was almost as if every fire had a separate meaning for her.
Ethan had a feeling that the fire inspector he’d initially felt that he’d been saddled with had more than one outstanding secret in her closet. He meant to find out how many and what they were, although, for the life ofhim, he couldn’t clearly state why he was so determined to do this. Why he wanted to unravel the mystery that was Kansas Beckett.
But he did.
Chapter 8
T hey were getting nowhere.
Five days of diligently combing through ashes, testimonies and the arrest records of felons who had a penchant for playing with fire hadn’t brought them to any new conclusions, other than to reinforce what they already knew: that there were some very strange sociopaths walking the earth.
Their lack of headway wasn’t for lack of tips. What they did lack for, however, were tips that didn’t take them on elaborate wild-goose chases.
With a frustrated sigh, Ethan leaned back in his chair. He rocked slightly as he stared off into space. The lack of progress was getting to him. The latest “person of interest” he was looking into turned out to have been in jail when the fire spree initially started. Which brought them back to square one.
Again.
“I’m beginning to feel like a dog chasing his own tail,” he said out loud, not bothering to hide his disgust.
Kansas looked up from the computer screen she’d been reading. “I’d pay to see that,” she volunteered.
Closing her eyes, Kansas passed her hand over her forehead. There was a headache building there, and she felt as if she were going cross-eyed. She’d lost track of the number of hours she’d been sitting here, at the desk that had been temporarily assigned to her, going through databases that tracked recent fires throughout the western states in hopes of finding something that might lead to the firebug’s identity. Every single possibility had led to a dead end.
There had to be something they were missing, she thought in exasperation. Fires that could be traced to accelerants just didn’t start themselves. Who the hell was doing this, and when was he finally going to slip up?
Noting the way Kansas was rubbing her forehead, Ethan opened his bottom drawer and dug out the container with his supply of extra-strength aspirin in it. In the interest of efficiency, he always bought the economy size. He rounded his desk and placed the container on top of hers.
The sound of pills jostling against
She straightened, doing her best to look indignant even as a warmth insisted on spreading through her. “I’d rather be thought of as an intelligent, sharp woman, not a beautiful one.”
He saw no conflict in that. “You can be both,” he answered matter-of-factly, then added more softly, “You are both.”
Kansas frowned. Oh, he was a charmer, this temporary partner of hers. He was probably accustomed to women dropping like flies whenever he decided to lay it on. Well, he was in for a surprise. She wasn’t going to let herself believe a word coming out of his mouth, no matter how tempting that was or how guileless he sounded as he delivered those words. She’d had the infection and gotten the cure. She was never going to allow herself to be led astray again. Ever.
“Don’t you know that ingesting too much sugar can lead to diabetes?” she asked sarcastically.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he promised, not bothering to keep a straight face. “Were the cross streets for that discount house Culver and Bryan?”
“Culver and Trabuco,” she corrected.
As soon as she said it, he remembered. “That’s right.” He laughed shortly. “After a while, all the names and descriptions start running together.”
“Not to me,” she informed him crisply. “Each and every one of the buildings are different. Like people,” she added.
The way she said it, he knew she wasn’t trying to sound high-handed or find fault with him. She meant it. It was almost as if every fire had a separate meaning for her.
Ethan had a feeling that the fire inspector he’d initially felt that he’d been saddled with had more than one outstanding secret in her closet. He meant to find out how many and what they were, although, for the life ofhim, he couldn’t clearly state why he was so determined to do this. Why he wanted to unravel the mystery that was Kansas Beckett.
But he did.
Chapter 8
T hey were getting nowhere.
Five days of diligently combing through ashes, testimonies and the arrest records of felons who had a penchant for playing with fire hadn’t brought them to any new conclusions, other than to reinforce what they already knew: that there were some very strange sociopaths walking the earth.
Their lack of headway wasn’t for lack of tips. What they did lack for, however, were tips that didn’t take them on elaborate wild-goose chases.
With a frustrated sigh, Ethan leaned back in his chair. He rocked slightly as he stared off into space. The lack of progress was getting to him. The latest “person of interest” he was looking into turned out to have been in jail when the fire spree initially started. Which brought them back to square one.
Again.
“I’m beginning to feel like a dog chasing his own tail,” he said out loud, not bothering to hide his disgust.
Kansas looked up from the computer screen she’d been reading. “I’d pay to see that,” she volunteered.
Closing her eyes, Kansas passed her hand over her forehead. There was a headache building there, and she felt as if she were going cross-eyed. She’d lost track of the number of hours she’d been sitting here, at the desk that had been temporarily assigned to her, going through databases that tracked recent fires throughout the western states in hopes of finding something that might lead to the firebug’s identity. Every single possibility had led to a dead end.
There had to be something they were missing, she thought in exasperation. Fires that could be traced to accelerants just didn’t start themselves. Who the hell was doing this, and when was he finally going to slip up?
Noting the way Kansas was rubbing her forehead, Ethan opened his bottom drawer and dug out the container with his supply of extra-strength aspirin in it. In the interest of efficiency, he always bought the economy size. He rounded his desk and placed the container on top of hers.
The sound of pills jostling against
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