Wild Heat (Hot Shots: Men of Fire #1)(32)
Author: Bella Andre

“They can, but not everyone is cut out for firefighting,” Logan said.

She’d seen enough rookies quit midway through their first year to know he was right. “That’s true. But I can’t help wondering if his staying away from the fire service goes deeper than that.”

“Deeper how?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to be in competition with you.” Because he knew he’d lose, she added silently.

“Dennis and Joseph were good to me when no one else gave a damn. Dennis is my brother in every way that counts. Every family has its problems. They don’t resolve them by setting fires and getting one another thrown into jail.”

Maya wished she could let her suspicions regarding Dennis go, wished she could drop it and return to the comfortable space she and Logan had shared just minutes ago. But the more she thought about her conversation with Dennis in the helicopter, the more it seemed like Dennis had a serious grudge with not only Logan but the entire hotshot crew. Could he have been the person who set the campfires that Logan had been seen putting out? Could he have digitally disguised his voice and left the message on the tip line?

“I hear everything you’re saying, but what if this is a cry for help? A way to make sure his father finally notices him? And the perfect way to make sure you take the fall?”

A muscle jumped in Logan’s jaw again and she hated having to put him in a position to defend—to doubt— his friend.

“Even if he was pissed at me for something, fire isn’t Dennis’s thing. Back when we were seventeen and I’d try to goad him into throwing a match into whatever fire I’d started, he never would. He wouldn’t know the first thing about lighting motel rooms on fire or creating explosions on a hillside.”

“Maybe he had help from someone who knows fire behavior?”

Logan shook his head. “He doesn’t have a lot of fire-fighter friends. Only me.”

Everywhere Maya looked, she saw brick walls. “Do you know where he was last week when he was on vacation? Did you see him at all? Talk to him?”

Logan pulled into a gravel driveway. “No, but I’m going to find out.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE CRIME lab door was open when they arrived. Maya was used to urban steel-and-metal buildings where the chemists all looked alike in their white jackets and black-rimmed glasses. A red-and-white barn in the middle of pine trees took some getting used to, as did the spray-painted fire motif that ringed the walls. Even the chemist’s arms were covered in tattoos of flames.

For a moment she wondered if she was looking at another pyromaniac—but without anything else to go on besides an abundance of fire graphics, she knew she was grasping at straws.

“David, thanks for opening up the lab on a weekend for us,” Logan said when they walked in. He took in his friend’s casual beach clothes and flip-flops. “Damn it, I was hoping I hadn’t pulled you off the lake. Sorry about that.”

The chemist waved away Logan’s concern. “Don’t worry about it. Kelly was dying to get me out of the boat so she could take it for a spin alone with her friends. She says I’m too much of a wimp to max out the speedometer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Maya.”

She estimated he was in his early forties, solely by the lines on his tanned face and his slightly receding hairline. He was tanned and trim and had the physique of a much younger man. Something about the lake and the mountains and the thin air in Tahoe made all the men better-looking than they had a right to be.

It was extremely disconcerting.

“So you’re investigating the wildfire?” he asked.

“Yes, but this is evidence from an explosion that took place this morning.”

“We heard about that. Poor kid. We’re praying that he pulls through.”

She didn’t need to look at Logan to know that he was still seeing Robbie wrapped up like a mummy in the hospital bed.

“I need to find out where the explosive materials came from. Once you tell me what caused the explosion, I’ll have a better idea where to look for other clues.”

“I’m glad I can help. Not just to clear your name,” he said to Logan, “but to catch the bastard who hurt Robbie.”

Logan didn’t respond. His head was bent down, just as it had been in the hospital when he was kneeling beside Robbie’s bed, overloaded with sorrow.

David must have sensed it too, because he efficiently took charge of them both. “No offense, you guys, but I’m not big on people hanging over my microscope. Logan, go use my shower and take whatever clothes you want.”

Shooting a lopsided grin at Maya, David said, “I’m guessing either you’re a really big fan of Lake Tahoe”—he gestured to her tourist duds—“or something happened to your clothes.”

“No one is this big of a fan,” she said, smiling back.

Logan quickly explained, “Someone lit her hotel room on fire last night.”

David whistled. “Do you think it’s the same person who did this?” He held up the mason jar.

Not wanting to disclose too much of what was supposed to be a confidential investigation, she said, “I’ll be following up with the fire chief shortly to see if he’s learned anything more. But at this moment, I don’t know.”

David quickly got the point and backed off. “My wife is about your size, Maya. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind loaning you a few things if you’re tired of being a walking Lake Tahoe billboard.”

Glad for his practical suggestion, Maya followed Logan out of the barn and into David’s A-frame house. The only time she’d spent in Tahoe since her brother’s death was to investigate the fire that took his life. She’d always made sure to get in and out of town quickly, steeling herself against acknowledging its beauty. It had been easier to focus on the seedy aspects of Tahoe life—the drugs and the booze and the crime.

This trip was different. This time she couldn’t run away, and even as she guarded herself against its charms, the beauty of the lake and the mountains and the trees seeped deeper into her pores.

Just as Logan and all his charm and good looks and heroicism pushed further past her defenses.

She turned away from the window and saw that Logan had stripped off his T-shirt. Her mouth nearly fell open at the beautiful, tanned lines of his torso. He had muscles in places she didn’t know they came. And he was so much better built than any firefighter she’d ever seen.

“Since we’ve got to wait for David, a shower sounds good.” He smiled and his flash of white teeth was utterly mesmerizing. “You want one?”

Maya instructed herself to look away from his chest. And failed.

“No,” she croaked.