Debra Cowan

Melting Point


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rangy firefighter during their dance had been nipped in the bud. She needed to shake it off and get her head in the game.

      Kiley had been working with Terra August Spencer since the first firefighter murder in October. Even if it hadn’t been city policy, Kiley needed the expertise of a fire cop. The clue to solving these murders might be something found at a fire scene. So far, all their leads had fizzled out, which frustrated them both.

      They had four firefighters who had been murdered—shot. Two of them during calls and two who had been killed while off duty.

      The willowy fire investigator moved with the slowness of her advanced pregnancy. Kiley knew from their recent work together that Terra Spencer was due in a month’s time. She gave the other woman a smile of recognition. “How are you feeling?”

      Terra grimaced. “Like a blimp. And I’m moving about as fast as a turtle. Sorry y’all have to wait on me.”

      “No problem.”

      Concern darkened her green eyes. “Who’s down?”

      “Dan Lazano.”

      “I didn’t know him very well,” Terra murmured. “What can you tell me?”

      Just as she started to fill the other woman in on what she knew so far, the investigator’s cell phone rang.

      Terra reached into her pocket and flipped open the phone. “Hi, honey.” She looked at Kiley and held up a finger as she stepped a few feet away, reassuring the person on the other end.

      Probably her gorgeous husband, Kiley surmised. Terra had married Presley detective, Jack Spencer, a couple of years ago. She’d been glowing ever since. The impending birth of their child made her radiant.

      Kiley felt a twinge of envy. She’d kissed plenty of frogs during her thirty-one years on this planet, but never her Mr. Right. She wasn’t sure what she wanted in a man, but she knew what she didn’t want. Her gaze slid grudgingly to Collier McClain. She knew exactly what she didn’t want.

      “Sorry about that.” Terra walked back over to her, sliding her cell phone into the pocket of her heavy coat. “The closer the due date gets, the more Jack checks on me. Now, what’s happened?”

      Kiley smiled, giving the woman her full attention as she answered.

      When she finished, the other woman shook her head, horror streaking across her face. “I guess we haven’t had any luck finding the weapon?”

      “I’ve got a couple of uniforms searching the area, but there’s nothing yet.”

      Terra gave a start and patted her stomach with an apologetic look. “The baby doesn’t like being dragged out of bed.”

      Kiley grinned. “Neither do I.”

      “I guess we’d better begin. Maybe we’ll turn up something here.”

      “Maybe so.” Kiley shared the fire investigator’s frustration over the cold trail of leads on their other homicides.

      As they moved toward the group of waiting firefighters, Terra said, “I’ll go ahead and do the walk-around with the guys then meet you back here. Once we determine the structure is secure, you and I can go inside and begin our investigation there.”

      “All right. I’ll start interviewing witnesses.” And she would start with Collier McClain.

      Presley had seen a serial arsonist before, but not a serial killer. A little over two years ago, a cameraman for one of the local news channels had started setting fires to get Terra’s attention, then murdered anyone who he perceived as distracting her attention from him.

      Kiley had been promoted to detective ten months ago and in October had happened to catch the call involving the firefighter who’d been shot in the back as he ran into a fire at Presley High School’s gym.

      Terra lifted the camera around her neck to snap pictures of the building and surrounding area. Two firefighters unloaded portable floodlights from Terra’s SUV and set them up inside the warehouse. The daylight-strength power of the scene lights outside brightened the area.

      When the other woman started toward the building, Kiley walked over to the body again. The group of firefighters had scattered. Dan Lazano’s facial features were recognizable. Since he had been wearing all his protective gear, there were no visible burns on what she could see of his body.

      Ken Mason, the Oklahoma County coroner, knelt beside the body.

      “What do you think, Doc?”

      “No soot around or in the nose or mouth, no burns at all. Like Sandusky said, Lazano never made it into the building. The only injury I’ve noted so far is the gunshot wound. It’s a through-and-through.”

      In through the back, out through the chest. “Thanks.” She turned, searching for Collier McClain and saw him near the warehouse’s front door talking with Terra.

      The man was rangy, strong and built with the lean lines of a baseball pitcher. His hawkish features were sharp in the unstinting white light from the megawatt bulbs illuminating the scene. He wasn’t her type at all, which was exactly why she’d danced with him. And why her over-the-top physical reaction had rocked her. Might as well get this over with.

      Taking a deep breath, she started toward him. He left Investigator Spencer to meet her halfway.

      “I need to ask you some questions,” she said quietly.

      “All right.” He looked tired and dazed.

      “Tell me what happened. Or what you remember.”

      He dragged a hand down his face, his turnout coat wet, his breath curling in the cold air. “I went for the nozzle.”

      “Was that usually your spot?”

      “Whoever got there first, but yeah, it was usually me.”

      “Go on.”

      “I was off the truck and ahead of Lazano when this stupid cat tripped me. By the time I got around the dumb thing, Dan had the nozzle and was on his way into the building.”

      “And you were how far behind him?”

      He shook his head. “I don’t know. Four, five steps. He was at the door.”

      Collier had long legs; his stride was easily over a yard. “And then what?”

      “He started in, then I heard the gunshot.”

      “You knew right off what it was?”

      “I reacted more from reflex at first. We’ve all been jumpy since Miller’s murder,” he said grimly.

      Gary Miller was the first firefighter who’d been killed by the sniper three months ago. “Then you went for Lazano?”

      “Yes.” He stared over his shoulder at the warehouse. “The padlock was cut. We didn’t have to use force to open the door.”

      She followed his gaze to the door, now open. Terra’s floodlights illuminated the inside of the big concrete cave.

      So the sniper had time to aim for the best shot while Lazano took those two heartbeats to open the door. Kiley scribbled the note in her notebook. “How long before you heard the shot?”

      “I’d guess maybe two seconds, three. It was quick.”

      “Did you work the scene where Miller was killed?”

      “No, but I was there.”

      “Why?”

      He shrugged. “I heard the call and went by. Turned out they needed another pair of hands so I stayed for a while. Don’t you cops do that?”

      Yes, they did. “Do you remember seeing anyone hanging around that night? Anyone you might’ve noticed here, as well?”

      “No.” He thought for a moment. “There