She turned her head, giving him a smile. "I should have figured you already checked."
"I did. I like it as a possible target, though. I didn't put these in order but that's at the top of my list." He turned his attention back to the screen. "Bric-A-Brac offers art classes for kids. It's run out of a studio in the back of the owner's house." He moved on to the next one. "Keystone is another senior center. It's part of an assisted living program at Keystone Residences. It's a little out of the target range, but close enough to be included. Basically, I put anything on the list that had an outreach to the community—some type of classes for kids, seniors, at-risk teens, whatever."
"Oh, my God," Kate said suddenly, her body stiffening.
"What?"
"Ashbury Studios? Why would you put a music studio on the list?"
"They offer music and dance classes for kids after school. It's a free program for at-risk teens. That's what I just said. I included any business that reached out to the community and was within a five-mile radius of St. Bernadette's." He paused, feeling the tension rolling off her body. "What's wrong?"
"My cousin Sean owns the music studio, and his wife Jessica runs the dance program." She gave him a concerned look. "If they're a target, I need to warn them."
"Then you should warn them," he said evenly. It was actually refreshing to have Kate take his assessment at face value and to give his theory some respect. "But I wouldn't say that studio is at the top of the list."
"It doesn't matter. It's on the list. The least I can do is tell them to be extra vigilant on doors and windows, since the arsonist often seems to have an easy entry point. They probably have some kind of security system. They need to make sure that's working properly. Maybe I'll go by there after lunch."
He nodded. "Is your cousin Sean related to Emma?"
"Yes. He's her younger brother by a year or two."
"Then maybe we should show her this list."
Kate met his gaze. "Print it out. But don't be surprised if she questions whether the studio made the list because you wanted to get her attention."
"Since I didn't know there was a connection until thirty seconds ago, hopefully you can set her straight." He hit Print on his computer.
"Have you spoken to any of the other targets?" she asked.
"No. I have to be careful in my approach."
She raised an eyebrow. "You? Careful? Those two words don't seem to go together, especially in this situation."
He tipped his head. "They didn't always go together, but the police paid me a visit after I tried to warn the principal of a school that they might be a target. They told me to stop inciting fear and panic and said that I could be charged for harassment if I didn't cease and desist."
"You pissed someone off."
"More than one person I'm sure."
"Was St. Bernadette's on your target list for schools?" she asked curiously.
He leaned over, tapped a few keys and opened a new file on his computer. "Take a look for yourself."
"It's there," she said. "But you never went there?"
"No. Besides the fact that I didn't feel like getting thrown into jail for a few hours, I've found that warning people is usually a waste of breath, time and energy. What I need to do is figure out the target, stake it out, and catch the arsonist."
"Well, that sounds simple," she said with an edge of sarcasm. "I'm surprised you haven't done it already."
"I had to wait for the arsonist to show up again. Obviously, he went underground after Sam's death. But he wasn't going to stay buried forever. The thrill, the release, the excitement—whatever emotion he needs to fill by setting a fire is always simmering beneath the surface." He took a breath and let it out. "I was wrong eight months ago, but my gut tells me I'm right this time. That's why I went out on a limb and contacted Hal. I knew he would probably laugh and hang up on me, but I had to take the chance. Not for me—for Sam. This has never been about me; it's always been about her."
Kate's blue gaze clung to his, and she looked at him in such a way that he felt like she could see right into his soul. For a split second he wanted to turn away; he'd always had a strong guard in place, but somehow Kate was getting past it.
"I believe you," she said slowly.
His heart flipped over in his chest. "That I'm not doing this out of ego? A desire to prove I'm the smartest; I'm the best?"
"Yes. Although, I don't doubt your ego is involved, because you are a man, after all. But mostly I believe that you're right about these fires, about the arsonist, about more blazes coming and the possibility of more people getting hurt. So let's stop him."
She might be green as grass, but he liked her fire, her determination, and the fact that she'd been so quickly able to understand what so many other people had not. Maybe that was because she was naïve, optimistic, idealistic, but whatever it was, he'd take it. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him without disbelief, anger or disgust.
"Okay," he said with a nod.
"That's okay,
partner
." She emphasized the word
partner
with a smile. "And don't tell me I'm still on probation, because you need me."
He did need her; he hadn't realized how much until this second. Unfortunately, his need had to do with a little more than just work. Standing this close to her, he had to fight the almost irresistible impulse to lean over and kiss her smart mouth.
Luckily for him, Kate's phone buzzed, and she walked around the table to pull it out of her bag.
"It's a text from Emma. She got to the restaurant a little early. I'll tell her we're on our way."
He nodded, happy to get out of the apartment and away from at least a few bad ideas.
* * *
As they walked down Union Street in San Francisco's Marina District Thursday afternoon, Kate felt on edge—not a dangerous kind of on edge, but a tingly kind of on edge. The way Devin had looked at her in his apartment had gotten her pulse pounding. She'd thought for a second there he was going to kiss her, an idea that seemed both ridiculous and appealing at the same time.
They were coworkers, colleagues, partners, and that was it. They were not friends and definitely not kissing friends.
But she couldn't deny there was an attraction.
She'd always been drawn to bad boys, especially those with sharp minds, and passionate drive. Unfortunately, those bad boys usually ended up to be really bad boyfriends. They might have had passion for her, but love, respect, tenderness…they'd always come up short in those areas. While a fling would no doubt be really enjoyable, she was done flinging…she was a serious FBI agent now. She had to focus on her career and prove how good she was, because just saying it wasn't enough to make it true.
While Agent Roman probably didn't care all that much about her performance on this case, because he didn't believe there was a case, he would care if she screwed up, if she missed something, if she didn't perform to the highest level of her ability. And she would care even more. Not just because it was a case, but because it was a case that involved the death of an agent.
She understood how important it was to Devin to get justice for his partner, because she would feel exactly the same way. She might not have gone about it in the same manner, but she would have wanted to keep fighting.
At least…she thought she would have. She did wonder if she would have been able to stand as strong as Devin had in the face of so many doubters. Would all those disbelievers have shaken her faith in herself, in her instincts?
But this wasn't about her. And as Devin had said, it wasn't even about him. It was about an arsonist and the people who had died and the destruction still to come. That's all she needed to think about.
Glancing over at Devin, she wondered what was on his mind. He hadn't said a word since they'd left his building. Maybe he was just focusing on their upcoming meeting. She really hoped it would be productive.
As they stopped at a traffic light, she said, "This is a charming street, one of my favorites in San Francisco."
"It's not bad," he admitted.
"Your office is in an old Victorian house—how much more charming could you get?"
He tipped his head. "I got lucky. A friend of mine owns the place. He had to move to New York and was looking for a tenant. He gave me a deal. As you know, this area is pricey."
She nodded. The clothing boutiques, art galleries, and restaurants on Union Street were definitely upscale. "You are lucky. Rents are high and apartments are scarce around here." She took off her sweater as a wave of heat ran through her. "I can't believe it's this warm in April. Spring has definitely arrived. I hope the good weather lasts for my sister's wedding."
"Where is she getting married?"
"At a chapel in the Presidio with the reception in a nearby hall, which will be packed."
"With all those Callaways," he said.
"And friends. Lots and lots of friends." As they neared the restaurant, she added, "Speaking of Callaways, there's Emma."
Emma sat at an outdoor café table and got to her feet as they arrived. She looked a lot better than she had earlier that morning, no signs of tears or drama. She also looked official in her SFFD uniform, reminding Kate that this was very much a business lunch.
After introducing Emma and Devin, Kate sat down between them, leaving Devin and Emma to face each other. So far, they'd both been polite but also restrained.
"Have you two met before?" Kate asked.
"No," Emma said. "As you know, Mr. Scott is not a popular person in my office."
"You can call me Devin," he said. "And I'm very aware of my unpopularity. I'm just trying to help your office catch a homicidal arsonist."
"My office believes we already did that," Emma returned.
"Then how do you explain the fire at St. Bernadette's on Monday?"
"Student vandals."
Devin rolled his eyes. "That's easy."
"It's also true that most fires at schools are started by juveniles. Kids like to mess with matches."
"Is that how you want to play this conversation?" Devin challenged. "I thought you were interested in actually having a discussion."
Emma frowned at his answer. "If I wasn't interested, I wouldn't be here."
"Okay," Kate said loudly. "I don't think we've gotten off on the right foot. We all have the same goal. We all want to stop anyone else from getting hurt. We can agree on that, can't we?"
Devin folded his arms across his chest but gave a nod. Emma did the same.
"Good. Let's talk about the fire at St. Bernadette's. Was there anything found at the scene, any evidence that wasn't reported in the news?"
"St. Bernadette's was not my case," Emma said. "But I did look at the file before I came here. The fire was started with gasoline-soaked rags in a Dumpster that was moved about twenty-five feet from its original position."
"What was the original location?" Devin asked quickly.
"By the cafeteria. The Dumpster was pushed against the wall underneath the counseling office. A brick was thrown through the window and a lit rag followed. The fire alarms went off and the fire was extinguished fairly quickly. Damage was limited to the counseling office and the Dumpster."
"Was there anything found at the scene?" Devin asked.
"Nothing of significance," Emma replied.
"What about a St. Christopher's medal?"
"Why would you ask?"
"A St. Christopher's medal was found at three other fire scenes."
"Have you looked at the photos from the scene?" Kate asked.
"Not in any detail," Emma said. "I didn't see mention of a St. Christopher's medal in the report."
"Would you look at the photos again?" Kate asked. "If there is a medal there, it should be noted as being relevant to the pattern of the other fires." She paused. "Was the Dumpster full? Would it have been too heavy for one person to move?"
"It wasn't full. There had been a garbage pickup earlier that day. And I think it was on wheels," Emma said. "It probably wouldn't have been difficult to move."
"What does the school have to say?" Devin asked.
"Interviews were conducted with the janitorial service, who were the last people at the school. The fire was started after midnight. There were no witnesses. There's an apartment building next to the school, but none of the neighbors saw anything."
"So there's not much to go on," Kate said.
"There's never much to go on when it comes to arson. It's the one crime where the evidence is destroyed in the process of the crime," Emma said.
"How do you do it? How do you not lose your mind with so many unsolved crimes?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"I try to focus on the ones I can solve." Emma looked at Devin. "The department is not trying to stand in your way, but the case was closed, and we have limited resources. We have to work on active investigations."
"The case is active again. St. Bernadette's was the beginning of a new trio of fires," he said.
"Have you read through the files on the other fires that Devin is referring to?" Kate asked.
"Not completely. I've seen some of them, but not all. I know there's a lack of agreement as to which fires fit the pattern Devin has come up with."
"It's pretty compelling," Kate said. "I took a picture of the map he's created. I'll text it to both of you, so we can talk about it."
Before they could discuss the map, the waiter appeared. They took a moment to order drinks and lunch and then went back to their phones.
"As you can see there's a distinct pattern to the fires," Devin said. "The circle is unfinished, and I believe that's where the arsonist will strike again. Since the second fire has always been set at a community or social recreation center, I've made up a list of potential targets."
"Send me that, too," Emma said, her brows drawing together as she studied the phone. "This looks like something, but what is it?"
"A peace sign," Kate put in.
"Whoa, you're right. That's odd."
"It also shows premeditation. The locations of the fires are being carefully chosen and executed to the pattern." Kate paused. "The arsonist isn't done."