vulnerability. “No trace of Trask at the other crime sites?”
He shook his head. “You say he was a block away from your brother's house?”
“Yes, but he was having trouble controlling the fire. Do you know the range of Firestorm?”
“Theoretically, with a small transmitter it can be controlled from a distance of a thousand yards. A larger transmitter permits access of a mile or two. Unless he's modified it.”
“Which is possible.” She shrugged. “But I still think that he's going to want to watch. It's the one thing I believe he has in common with other pyromaniacs I've dealt with. There's nothing like watching, smelling.” She moistened her lips. “And if he's there, I think I'll be able to know it.”
“I'm banking on it.”
“That's right. You've spent so many months monitoring me. It would be a great disappointment to you if I let you down.”
“You're damn tooting.” He paused. “But I don't think you will. You've come through with flying colors so far. I wasn't sure you'd even make contact for the first few encounters.”
“This concerned people I care about. It could be an isolated incident.”
“But you don't think so.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “You think that you reached him—and that you can do it again. Exactly how does your talent work? Do you ever have contact before the act?”
She shook her head. “Once or twice I've seen it when it was going on. Other times I get a flash when I'm examining the crime scene.” She paused. “But this was the first
time I felt . . . inside. It was as if I
was
Trask.”
“Welcome to the club.”
She shivered. “I hope I never feel like that again.”
“So do I. I wouldn't wish that feeling on my worst enemy.” He grimaced. “Yes, I would. I'd wish it on Trask.”
“Tea,” George said from the doorway as he brought in the silver tray. “And sandwiches. Ladies like tea.”
“Do they?” Silver turned to Kerry. “Do you like tea?”
“Yes.”
“I didn't see any tea bags in your kitchen.”
“And I didn't see your crystal ball.” She smiled at George. “I like the ceremony more than the beverage itself.”
“I told you so,” George said to Silver. “Ladies have an innate appreciation for the delicacy and orderliness of tea. I've put your bags in the guest room at the top of the stairs, Ms. Murphy.”
“Kerry.”
He flinched. “I don't wish to be impolite, but it would violate my sense of what is proper. Suppose we accept your democratic good feelings and let it go at that.” He glanced at Sam. “May I take that animal out and give it some water?”
“His name is Sam,” Kerry said as she handed him the leash. “And I think he needs something to eat.”
“Probably,” Silver said sourly. “He threw up on the plane.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” George said as he led Sam from the room. “Definitely a light repast.”
Kerry stared after him in bemusement. “You're sure he was a commando?”
“Oh, yes. But he was also raised in domestic service in England. He has firm convictions about the way things should be done, whether it's firing a Sam7 or serving a state dinner.”
“Interesting.” She lifted the cup to her lips. “I'm surprised he's still with you. I wouldn't think he'd believe you worthy of his efforts.”
“Because I'm a slob? He's hoping to reform me.”
“But that isn't all?”
“No. He wants to be around when we corner Trask. As I said, he doesn't like failure.”
“What does he know about you?”
“Only that my brother thought I was a bit of a screwball who studied hydrostatics at the university.” He took a swallow of tea and immediately made a face. “He did this to me on purpose. He knows I hate tea.”
She smiled. “You know, I'm beginning to like George.”
T he bedroom she'd been given was as huge as the entire sleeping quarters at the fire station. It was decorated in blue and peach with restrained elegance, and again it jarred against
He shook his head. “You say he was a block away from your brother's house?”
“Yes, but he was having trouble controlling the fire. Do you know the range of Firestorm?”
“Theoretically, with a small transmitter it can be controlled from a distance of a thousand yards. A larger transmitter permits access of a mile or two. Unless he's modified it.”
“Which is possible.” She shrugged. “But I still think that he's going to want to watch. It's the one thing I believe he has in common with other pyromaniacs I've dealt with. There's nothing like watching, smelling.” She moistened her lips. “And if he's there, I think I'll be able to know it.”
“I'm banking on it.”
“That's right. You've spent so many months monitoring me. It would be a great disappointment to you if I let you down.”
“You're damn tooting.” He paused. “But I don't think you will. You've come through with flying colors so far. I wasn't sure you'd even make contact for the first few encounters.”
“This concerned people I care about. It could be an isolated incident.”
“But you don't think so.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “You think that you reached him—and that you can do it again. Exactly how does your talent work? Do you ever have contact before the act?”
She shook her head. “Once or twice I've seen it when it was going on. Other times I get a flash when I'm examining the crime scene.” She paused. “But this was the first
time I felt . . . inside. It was as if I
was
Trask.”
“Welcome to the club.”
She shivered. “I hope I never feel like that again.”
“So do I. I wouldn't wish that feeling on my worst enemy.” He grimaced. “Yes, I would. I'd wish it on Trask.”
“Tea,” George said from the doorway as he brought in the silver tray. “And sandwiches. Ladies like tea.”
“Do they?” Silver turned to Kerry. “Do you like tea?”
“Yes.”
“I didn't see any tea bags in your kitchen.”
“And I didn't see your crystal ball.” She smiled at George. “I like the ceremony more than the beverage itself.”
“I told you so,” George said to Silver. “Ladies have an innate appreciation for the delicacy and orderliness of tea. I've put your bags in the guest room at the top of the stairs, Ms. Murphy.”
“Kerry.”
He flinched. “I don't wish to be impolite, but it would violate my sense of what is proper. Suppose we accept your democratic good feelings and let it go at that.” He glanced at Sam. “May I take that animal out and give it some water?”
“His name is Sam,” Kerry said as she handed him the leash. “And I think he needs something to eat.”
“Probably,” Silver said sourly. “He threw up on the plane.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” George said as he led Sam from the room. “Definitely a light repast.”
Kerry stared after him in bemusement. “You're sure he was a commando?”
“Oh, yes. But he was also raised in domestic service in England. He has firm convictions about the way things should be done, whether it's firing a Sam7 or serving a state dinner.”
“Interesting.” She lifted the cup to her lips. “I'm surprised he's still with you. I wouldn't think he'd believe you worthy of his efforts.”
“Because I'm a slob? He's hoping to reform me.”
“But that isn't all?”
“No. He wants to be around when we corner Trask. As I said, he doesn't like failure.”
“What does he know about you?”
“Only that my brother thought I was a bit of a screwball who studied hydrostatics at the university.” He took a swallow of tea and immediately made a face. “He did this to me on purpose. He knows I hate tea.”
She smiled. “You know, I'm beginning to like George.”
T he bedroom she'd been given was as huge as the entire sleeping quarters at the fire station. It was decorated in blue and peach with restrained elegance, and again it jarred against
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