Deadly Heat (Deadly 2)

“The SSD is currently following multiple leads on this case,” Kenton said smoothly, offering them a smile while he shoved down his anger. “And, yes, we are confident that we will be making an arrest in this case.” He wouldn’t leave town until they did.

“When?” Jones wanted to know.

Kenton’s glance drifted over them. “We are collecting evidence at this time.”

“Evidence supplied by your witness?” Shaw asked.

Now this was the dicey part. He needed to work some serious damage control. “I don’t want the witness’s name mentioned in your reports.”

Silence.

“Uh, excuse me?” Shaw blinked a few times. Right. Like she’d never been asked to sit on a story before. She knew this game.

“Turn off the camera,” Kenton ordered, still with a casual smile on his face. Letting the reporters see your fury was never a good idea. They needed finesse and charm.

Lawrence swore behind him. That guy had no charm.

The camera light blinked off.

“At this juncture, the SSD would like for you to refrain from running any story about a possible witness to the arsons.”

“What the hell?” Elle exclaimed. “The captain just told us about—”

“And I’m telling you—the SSD would consider it a personal favor if this information wasn’t aired, at least not until we’ve had a chance to follow up on our new leads.” Sweat trickled down his back, but Kenton kept his pose loose and easy.

Elle’s eyes narrowed. “What’s in it for us?”

His gaze swept between her and Jones. “The two of you will get the first call when we catch the bastard.”

Elle smiled.

Jones narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t talk about the witness yet, and you’ll both get the best interviews in town.” He offered another smile. “Or you can run the story as is and rest assured that you will not be privy to any more discoveries or statements from the SSD.”

He let that sink in, and after a moment, Shaw gave a grudging nod. Kenton’s stare centered on Jones. “Do we have an agreement?”

Jones smiled, flashing too many teeth. “Sure we do.”

And Kenton was sure that he didn’t believe the guy.

“Then we’ll be talking soon.”

He turned away, grabbed Lawrence’s arm, and tried to make the hold look friendly. But he failed and pulled the guy away with him.

When he passed Jon, Kenton leaned toward the other agent. “Until Lawrence goes home, make sure no other reporters get inside tonight. The SSD needs to keep control of the media.”

Jon nodded and immediately headed to guard the door.

Kenton didn’t speak again and didn’t answer Lawrence’s blustering questions until they were back in the captain’s office. Monica shut the door behind them. Very, very quietly.

“What the hell is your problem?” Lawrence demanded, his hawkish face tight. “You don’t interrupt me when—”

“Who the hell gave you permission to discuss the witness with the press?” Kenton cut right through his words.

The guy’s mouth hung open. Then closed. Then opened. Fish-style. But then the captain’s hand slapped against the desk. “I don’t need permission. This is my PD, and I can—”

Kenton clenched his fists. “Listen up, Captain. Listen real good. This isn’t your case. I told you that already. The SSD is in charge of the Phoenix investigation now.”

“This is my city—”

“And this is my killer,” Kenton tossed right back. “And we don’t need some piss-for-brains cop screwing up our investigation.”

Lawrence went red. “You can’t—”

“We can,” Monica told him quietly. “We have the authority here.”

Lawrence’s shoulders hunched. “Just… an interview… little one for the press… knew f-folks would want to know—”

About the witness.

“Tell me, Captain,” Kenton said, “do you know what happened to the last man who tried to give us a description of Phoenix?”

The cop’s eyes widened.

“Larry Powell,” Kenton supplied. “He was here, right in this damn station, and he saw Phoenix, too.”

Monica stepped back and let him close in for the kill.

“Now he’s in the morgue,” Kenton told him, jaw tight. “Or what’s left of his burnt and charred body is.”

“Phoenix doesn’t seem to like leaving witnesses alive,” Monica added.

The captain’s face bleached of that fiery red. “I-I d-didn’t…”

“You didn’t read the report that Dr. Jennings sent to you?” Kenton’s voice snapped.

Lawrence flinched.

The captain had just put a target on Bob. And all because Lawrence had wanted his own face splashed on the news.

“What do you think Phoenix will do when he sees this piece on the news?” Monica asked softly.

Fury heated Kenton’s blood. “Who do you think will be next on the guy’s list?”

Lawrence sagged against the front of his desk. The hair he’d slicked back on the sides glinted in the light. “I-I just didn’t—”

Think. Yeah, they knew that.

“You’re giving Bob Kyle protection,” Kenton ordered. “Twenty-four-seven protection, you understand?”

Because he was not going to let another witness die. Powell already haunted him.

“They won’t run the story, right?” Lawrence asked, swiping a hand over his forehead. “You told them… they won’t run the story.”

Kenton sighed. The cop really didn’t understand this game. “If they don’t, we’ll be damn lucky.” And he’d never counted on luck.

Lora’s lights were out.

He inched along the edge of her property, keeping to the shadows near the tree line.

The cop and his partner were taking six minutes to circle.

Six minutes.

So much could happen in six minutes.

Fire. Death.

He smiled. Six minutes. So much time.

His fingers tightened around the can of gasoline. Then he tipped the can over and started to pour.

CHAPTER Twelve

Lora rolled over and slammed her fist into the pillow once more. She couldn’t get to sleep. She could only close her eyes and lie there.

But she couldn’t turn her mind off.

Phoenix. He was out there, somewhere, planning his next attack. And Kenton—Kenton was stirring him up and painting a giant bull’s-eye on his back.