Wild Fire

He arrived in less than ten minutes, his jaw stiffening when he saw the microwave. Despite having left for work early this morning when she had, his navy slacks and green-and-blue striped polo shirt looked fresh.

He took her chin in his hand and looked her over from head to toe. “Are you okay?

“I’m not hurt. I was just coming back into the firehouse when it happened.”

“Blue eyes, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered. She wrapped her arms around herself. “This is too strange, Clay.”

He brushed her hair away from her forehead and eyed her healing cut, then propped his hands on his hips. “Show me where you were and what you did.”

Shelby walked him over to the cabinet where she kept her popcorn. “After Vince was here, the guys got a call—”

“Tyner was here?” he asked sharply.

She nodded.

“When? How long? What did he want?”

“It was less than half an hour ago. He was here maybe five minutes. He wanted to talk about getting back together. At first, I told him here wasn’t the place to talk, but he wouldn’t leave so I told him—again—that I wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore.”

“How did he take it?”

“Not any better than last time. He kept after me until Cap and Monroe and Shepherd came out, and told him to back off.”

“Did Tyner threaten you? Try to push you around like he did the night you broke up with him?”

“No, he just grabbed me.”

A savage light flared in Clay’s eyes. “I really want to hurt that guy.”

A police cruiser pulled up. Two uniformed officers stepped out of the black-and-white, met at the end of the sloping firehouse drive by the crime scene technician who was removing his work kit from a white van.

“Are you bruised?” Clay asked.

“No. He scared me more than he hurt me.”

Clay’s eyes turned cold and hard. Shelby knew that look. He waved the crime scene tech into the kitchen then turned back to her. “Where did you first see Tyner?”

“In here. I came in with a bag of groceries and he was waiting.”

“Was he alone?”

“Yes.”

His gaze shifted to the destroyed microwave. “How long after he left did the microwave blow up?”

“Maybe five minutes.”

“Did you know he was coming?”

“No.”

“He was in here alone for a bit before you knew he was here. Maybe no one else knew he was here, either.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you think he did this? But why?” She felt sick. “Just because I broke up with him?”

“People do take revenge for those kinds of things, Shelby. But it might not have been that at all.”

“What else?”

He searched her face, then said quietly, “It could be related to M.B.’s murder.”

“Clay!” Her surprise left in a rush as realization sank in. “You mean, Vince might’ve killed M.B., then come after me?”

“I have to look at all the angles.”

“But he hardly knew her.”

“Are you sure?”

She froze. “No.”

“I want to find out what connections he had to Ms. Perry.”

“She met Vince a couple of times here when she brought over goodies. He took his ambulance to her school and showed the kids around.” Could there have been more between the paramedic and the teacher? Something that might make Vince want to hurt M.B.? Shelby suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Did you notice if any of the firefighters were in here alone at any other time?”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Did you?”

“Alone?” She thought hard. “Maybe Shepherd.”

Clay nodded. “I’ll check him out, too.”

“We already know he was friends with M.B. We all were.”

“How did he act around her?”

“Flirty, like he does with every woman.”

“We’ve been assuming M.B.’s lover was married, but maybe not.”

“That’s true,” she said slowly, her stomach still in knots. “You really think Shep could’ve had something going with M.B.?”

“We’ll have to find out.”

“You’re making me paranoid, as if Vince weren’t enough,” she muttered.

“Sorry.” His gaze searched her face. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”

“I need to talk to your captain, as well as Monroe and Shepherd.”

“Just to see if they saw or heard anything, right?”

There was something in his face.

“You don’t suspect either of them?”

“I suspect everyone until I have a reason not to. I want you to wait for me, then you’re moving to my house.”

“Do you think that’s necessary?”

“I think Tyner would’ve hurt you if your captain hadn’t stepped in. And I’m real suspicious about the timing of Tyner being in the kitchen just before the microwave blew.”

“What do you think caused the explosion?”

“We’ll have to wait for the lab guys to give us a solid answer. Was popcorn the only thing in there?”

“Yes, but that by itself couldn’t cause an explosion.”

“Even if the bag overheated and caught fire?”

“Even then. There has to be a lot of heat and pressure behind an explosion like that. If the bag caught fire, it would burn, but probably not even crack the glass. There had to be some power to make the glass shatter and for the door to blow off,” Shelby explained.

“Power caused by what? An accelerant?”

“Yes. Or maybe a malfunction of some kind.”

“You mean electrical?” Clay looked pensive.

“It’s possible.”

“What about accelerants? What could be used?”

“A piece of metal, maybe?” The growing realization that the incident could’ve been deliberate made her shudder.

“Something big? Small?” he asked.

“Could’ve been as small as a paper clip or a coin.”

“Or flammable liquid inside the bag?”

“Yes, any of those.” Had someone really tried to kill her? Or was the microwave faulty and she had just happened to be using it when it malfunctioned?

“I’ll have the lab guys look at it. From your time together, Tyner knows you eat popcorn every afternoon. He could’ve planted something in the microwave before you tossed in your bag. So could Shepherd.”

“I can’t believe Shep would do something like this.” It was frightening to realize she wasn’t sure about Vince.

“I’m checking them both out anyway. I want you to take a leave of absence until we figure out what’s going on.”

“But I just came back to work today.”

“I know, but if this was an attempt on your life… Until the lab guys tell me this explosion wasn’t deliberate, I don’t want you here. I want you to be somewhere I can control the security.”

His words chilled her. She knew he wouldn’t suggest a move and a leave from work if he didn’t believe it was necessary.

“I want to talk to the crime scene tech. Then I’ll drive you home to get your things.”

She nodded. “I’ll talk to Captain Oliver when he returns.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Shelby.”

She met his serious green eyes. She knew he was thinking about Jason, about the accident that he still blamed himself for. Why couldn’t he accept that what had happened to her brother hadn’t been his fault? “I know,” she said quietly.

She didn’t like taking a leave from work. She felt as if she were running away, giving in to a scare tactic; it chafed, but she trusted Clay. If he said he feared for her, then he had a reason. There was probably no place safer for her than his house.

Just before eleven-thirty the next morning, Clay walked into his kitchen from the garage, returning from a domestic dispute call he’d received at 5 a.m. He and Detective Kiley Russell had finally convinced a man holding his estranged wife and two-year-old daughter hostage to let them go. There had been no bloodshed, a major victory in itself.

Erin, the older of his two younger cop sisters, stood at the sink rinsing dishes. She turned when she heard him, her straight, dark hair sliding over one shoulder. Concern shadowed her green eyes, a shade lighter than his. “How’d it go?”

As he moved around the oak dining table, he told her about the outcome and then excused himself to go shower.

“Want me to fix you a sandwich or something? Shelby and I have already eaten.”

“A sandwich would be great. Thanks.”

She nodded, walking over to the refrigerator and opening the door.

“How were things here?” He stopped in the wide, arched doorway leading into the hall.

His sister straightened, bracing a hand on the top of the fridge door. “Fine. She talked a little bit about the explosion yesterday. Tyner didn’t call, but her mom and Dylan Shepherd did.”

The information about Shepherd annoyed Clay for some reason, despite his having learned that Shep hadn’t been in the kitchen before the explosion as Shelby had thought. Shepherd wasn’t a suspect at all right now. Neither were any of the other firefighters who’d been in the firehouse. They all had solid alibis, since they were off on a call. Clay dragged a hand across his tired eyes. “Did she say anything about Vince?”

“No. She only mentioned him when she talked about the microwave. Do you think she’s afraid of him?”

“A little. After what she told me about their last date, I don’t want him coming anywhere near her.”

“Since you’ve got me and Brooke for backup during the day, he won’t. Not on our watch anyway.”

“Thanks.” Clay did feel better knowing both his sisters would be with Shelby. “Where is she?”

“Putting on her clothes.”

He started down the long hallway, passing the guest room on his left. The door leading into the light, airy space done in red, blue and yellow plaid was closed.

He figured Shelby was in there getting dressed, just as his sister had said. Before he could stop himself, he recalled holding her. Felt the press of her breasts against him, the soft skin of her neck beneath his hand.

He shook his head. Whatever had happened with Shelby last week hadn’t occurred again. And wouldn’t, Clay told himself. That unexpected, unfamiliar awareness he’d had of her body must’ve been some weird fluke. Things were back to normal between them and he was glad. The uneasiness nagging him now was due to the microwave explosion yesterday and learning about Tyner’s presence there just before it happened.

Clay felt much better knowing Shelby was at his house. They had spoken to Paula last night after she’d returned from her buying trip, and the older woman agreed that Shelby should stay with him. As did Clay’s dad, a cop who’d retired and started a private security company in Presley.

Clay walked into his room and pushed the door shut. As he moved toward the heavy king-size bed and matching chest of drawers, he pulled his gray Presley PD T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. He toed off his tennis shoes, turning with his hand on the top button of his jeans just as the door to his bathroom opened.

Shelby stepped out, her eyes rounding in surprise. “Oh.”

Sweet son of a—

His breath backed up in a painful knot.

Her short hair was dry except for a few strands that curled onto her nape. Steam from the bathroom glossed her neck, the curve of her shoulder. She wore only a bra and panties, and she looked damn good. The sight of all that bare golden skin had Clay’s entire body going rigid.

“Erin’s using the other bathroom or I wouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine.” His throat was so tight it hurt to talk. A subtle feminine scent drifted to him. Something light and frothy and Shelby. It made his mouth water. He told himself to move, to look away, but he couldn’t. His pulse hammered hard.

Her underwear wasn’t sheer. It wasn’t even a sexy color. Just serviceable white. But the plunging lacy bra and high-cut panties were enough to make his chest ache.

Who the hell knew she wore underwear like that? His gaze moved over the swell of her breasts, the sleek line of her belly to her lean legs, then drifted back to her breasts. His gut clenched when her nipples tightened against the silk.

She gave a nervous laugh. “Why are you looking at me that way? I mean, you’ve seen me in a bikini that shows more than this.”

Jerking his attention to her face, he struggled to keep his voice even. “What way?”

“Like…I don’t know,” she said slowly, her left foot rubbing the top of her right.

Tension swelled between them. Her smile faded, replaced by confusion.

Trying to ease the moment, Clay went with the first thing that came to mind. “Where is that darn tattoo?”

Uncertainty flashed across her gamine features, then she arched a brow. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Hell, yes. He’d like to find it with his hands, his mouth. It took everything he had to pretend that raw, primal need wasn’t clawing through him. “You know I’m going to find it one of these days.”

He saw her take a deep breath and struggled to keep his gaze on her face. Not that it mattered. The sight of her half-naked would be carved into his brain for the rest of his life.

Of course he’d noticed her before. She was right—he’d seen her plenty of times in a bathing suit. She was a good-looking woman with a great body. But he’d never felt like this when he’d noticed. Never been so aware of the powder-fine texture of her skin, the tempting fullness of her breasts, her taut waist. She wasn’t as tall as either of his sisters, but her legs were leanly muscled and strong. The image of those legs wrapped around him exploded on his brain. Startled at his thoughts, he slammed on the mental brakes.

It was too late. The confusion he’d seen earlier in her blue eyes was now panic. She moved toward him, keeping a healthy distance. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“Finished my call and thought I’d come back to clean up.” The heated rush of his blood took him off guard.

She stood nearly even with him now, close enough to touch. And he wanted to.

Slanting one arm across her middle, she curled her palm around the side of her neck in a self-conscious motion. “I’m going to go get dressed,” she said huskily.

It was only then that Clay realized her gaze had dropped to his bare chest. Her lips parted slightly and she stared with a feminine appreciation he couldn’t remember ever seeing. At least, not when she looked at him. His heart thudded hard.

She looked up suddenly, and her gaze crashed into his. Something flickered in her eyes. Was it just his imagination, or had the air in the room turned electric? A strange sensation traveled up his arms.

Whatever was going on had him off balance and from the look on her face, he wasn’t alone. He thought about tossing her a robe, but he didn’t have one. She looked dazed. And nervous. She moved toward the door.

He started for the bathroom, trying to sound normal, as if lust weren’t boiling him from the inside out. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said gruffly. “Meet me in the living room.”

She nodded, turning quickly to leave. As he stepped into the bathroom, he heard her shut the door in the bedroom. Bracing an arm against the door frame over his head, he cursed. He was turned on as hell right now, but he’d seen her face. She hadn’t been afraid; she’d been wary, guarded. With him. He didn’t blame her. There had been nothing friend-like in the way he’d looked at her.

After telling himself for days that the previous instance had been a fluke, that his body’s response to hers hadn’t meant anything, Clay was forced to admit he’d been dead wrong.

Until now, no woman had affected him since Megan’s death. Not physically, not emotionally. Why did Shelby have to be the one? She’d seen his reaction and hadn’t bought his lame explanation about why he was practically drooling over her. For a split second, he’d seen an answering heat in her eyes. Before the nerves set in.

He knew how she was about romantic relationships. Still, he couldn’t deny that he wanted her. Wanted her with more ache than he could ever remember feeling, even for his late wife.

He didn’t know what these feelings were or what they meant. He had told himself that he could ignore what had happened before, that he could make the lust, this increasing physical awareness of Shelby, go away. The cold hard truth was he couldn’t. What the hell was he going to do?

Chapter 4

Whoa, whoa, whoa. That was all Shelby could think as she and Clay drove to Presley’s oldest high school. Her skin tingled as if he’d put his hands on her. He hadn’t, but he’d looked as if he wanted to. And she had wanted him to. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t deny it.

She was uneasily aware of her body. Of the two feet that separated them. Of the current of sensation humming between them. She stared out the window; she didn’t trust herself to look at Clay. Not yet, anyway.

She plucked at her pink, lightweight sweater, ran damp palms down the legs of her khaki pants. Was her response due to the concussion? Another of the erratic, uncontrollable emotions Dr. Boren had warned her about?

Coming out of the bathroom to find him had been a surprise, but what had jolted her senses like a live wire was the way Clay’s gaze had done a slow, appreciative glide down her body.

He wasn’t the only one who’d looked. He’d been wearing only jeans and as she followed the lines of his powerful body, she’d become suddenly and profoundly aware of his smooth, supple skin, the tan that faded into paler skin at his hips, the thin bands of muscle across his abdomen. She’d seen his chest before—they’d spent countless summer days at the lake—but yowza. It was all hard angles and planes and sleekly defined sinew, just like his shoulders and his arms. Dark hair coiled on his chest and formed into a thin line down the center of his ridged abdomen. He’d caught her looking. She couldn’t help it; he was something else.

The moment had grown between them, clutching deep inside her and igniting a tiny flame of temptation. She could still smell his flesh-warmed woodsy scent, see the hard throb of his pulse in the hollow of his throat. She’d tried to dismiss her body’s response, but she couldn’t halt the heating of her blood, the heavy ache in her breasts, the tightening in her belly.

At first, he’d looked as startled as she’d felt, and then he’d looked…hungry. A shiver rippled through her. No man had ever looked at her that way, not even her ex, Ronnie, when they’d begun dating and things had been hot and heavy between them.

What was going on with Clay? And her? He was nine years older than she was. She had never felt toward him exactly as she had toward her brother, but she’d never wanted to jump his bones, either. Certainly never considered that he might want to jump hers.

Jeez, Louise! This was Clay! Restlessness moved through her. Her skin felt tight. She ordered herself to stop thinking about his chest, his body, his everything.

It wasn’t until they were walking through the school’s front door that Shelby had the presence of mind to speak. “You never said exactly why you wanted me to come to M.B.’s school with you.”

“Oh,” he said gruffly, pausing at the corner of a long corridor before starting across the vinyl-floored hallway for the school office. Fronted by glass walls, a long counter stretched along the width of the rectangular room. Several women and students worked behind it. “I thought you might get a glimpse of someone here that would help you remember something.”

“Good idea. I hope it works.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say something about that bizarre exchange in his bedroom, but for the first time in their long friendship, she didn’t feel she could talk to him. Not now, anyway. Not when she could still feel this tight pull in her belly.

As she and Clay made their way to the office, the low roar of children’s voices came from the opposite end of the building. The cafeteria, she realized. The silence between her and Clay was different than usual, heavier, but she noted that he didn’t try to break it, either. If he was reeling over it as much as she was, she understood.

Once in the office, Clay asked to see Gail Cosgrove, M.B.’s friend who had called this morning to tell Clay she was back at work and eager to help any way she could. As the school secretary, Gail was responsible for making any travel arrangements for school-sponsored trips, local or out-of-town.

“M.B. and I were friends for ten years,” the trim blonde told Clay and Shelby as she motioned them into her small office.

Clay shot Shelby a questioning look and she shook her head. She didn’t recognize Gail Cosgrove, and the woman hadn’t sparked any memories. Neither had anyone else in the outer office.

“So you knew about the man she was seeing?” Clay asked.

He always gave people his full attention. Shelby tried to keep hers on the secretary, but her mind was occupied with the man who was her best friend. She could smell the deep musk of his aftershave, a faint whiff of fabric softener. He’d shaved; the smooth line of his jaw was every bit as compelling as it was with stubble.

Gail nodded. “I knew about him, but I didn’t know who he was. She wouldn’t tell me.”

“Why not?”

“She said it could cause trouble for both of them. I have no idea what she meant. It was the first time in our friendship she’d kept anything like that from me. M.B. wasn’t a secretive person by nature. She was outgoing and straightforward. What you saw with her is what you got. I never understood why she wouldn’t tell me. She knew I wouldn’t have said a word to anyone.”

Clay glanced at Shelby. “Could it have been because her telling you might have threatened you in some way?”

“In what way?”

Shelby knew what he meant and watched the other woman’s face carefully.

“Are you married, Ms. Cosgrove?”

She gave a small laugh. “Oh, I see where you’re going, but M.B. wouldn’t have had an affair with my husband. And even if she’d wanted to, Wes would never have cheated on me.”

“You sound pretty sure.”

“I am.” Her gaze went from Clay to Shelby and back. “Aren’t there some things you know in your gut and your heart?”

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