brunette shifted to make room for Jerry French, a veteran firefighter from Station One. “Anything on that warehouse fire yet, or any leads on Lazano’s murder?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
French jerked at his tie. “You got thrown right into the middle of a big humdinger, didn’t you? You been up to the hospital yet to see Terra and her baby girl?”
“I went early this morning,” Collier said. “But she was asleep and so was Jack. I’ll try again later.”
“Did she have to have a C-section?” Shelby asked. “One of the guys was talking about it.”
Collier nodded. “I think it took her and Jack by surprise, but I heard everyone was doing well.”
Talking about Terra reminded him of his new partner, but he didn’t see Kiley anywhere. Where had she gone? That instant last night when he’d had his hand on her shot through his memory. As much as he hated it, he wasn’t going to lie to himself about the electricity that arced between them. They struck sparks off each other, and he wanted to find out just how long they would burn, but he knew better than to explore it.
Something about Kiley warned him that she wouldn’t be that easy to walk away from. And walking away from women was what he did ever since his engagement to Gwen Hadley had gone to hell. He’d bought into the true-love thing once, and he was done. For good.
The detective’s wariness around him said she had learned the same hard lesson. He wasn’t going to follow up on the slow sizzle that had started in his blood the minute he’d held her at that Christmas dance. And he instinctively knew she wouldn’t, either.
They could work together and get the job done, then go their separate ways. Her slightly awkward manner the night before at his house was proof she wanted the same thing.
They were both professionals. Regardless of the searing current that seemed to zap him whenever he was within a foot of the red-haired detective, Collier intended to do his job. He wanted to make a good impression, especially on his first solo case. All he had to do was concentrate on the investigation, and that annoying awareness he felt around Kiley would disappear. Pretty soon he wouldn’t feel anything different for her than he felt for any other co-worker.
“I didn’t know if she’d be here or not,” Shelby murmured.
Collier followed her gaze across the living room and saw Gwen, who spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Lazano before she melted into the crowd. “Why not?”
“She and Dan broke things off about two weeks ago.”
He nodded. He’d heard about Dan and Gwen’s breakup, but the other firefighters didn’t often discuss the pair around him.
“Lazano couldn’t take her drinking anymore,” Shelby said.
Collier gave her a sharp look. “Had it gotten that bad?”
“That’s what I heard.”
He probed the crowded room for Kiley, wondering who she was talking to, if she had learned anything new about Lazano. His gaze shifted back to the corner he’d just scanned.
She stood there huddled next to a coat closet talking to Gwen. She hadn’t told him she planned to interview his ex, but he could tell by the intent way she listened that interviewing was exactly what she was doing. And she’d left him out of the loop. No doubt his name had come up at least once. The whole idea of the two women talking about him made Collier queasy. He started for them, wondering who had identified Gwen to Kiley as his ex.
As he walked up, he heard Kiley say, “Thanks for your time. If I have any other questions, I’ll be in touch.”
“We’ll probably both be in touch,” he said as much for her benefit as Gwen’s.
His ex pivoted to face him. “Oh, Collier. Hello.”
Her greeting was subdued, as was her makeup and clothing. Subdued for Gwen, anyway. She was pale, her brown eyes red and swollen from crying. The black, long-sleeved sheath she wore could’ve been painted on her slender frame. Next to Kiley Russell’s vibrant coloring and personality, his former fiancée seemed almost bland.
He had expected to feel at least a twinge of his old anger toward the blonde, but instead he felt sorry for her. She looked uncertain and troubled.
“Why would you need to talk to me, too?” she asked.
“I just transferred into the fire investigator’s office.”
“I didn’t know.” She stepped closer, her gaze locked on his.
He shifted back until his heel bumped the wall. “This is my first official case.”
“I thought the police investigated mur—things like this.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“Since this was a murder at a fire scene, the police and fire departments work together.” He gave Kiley a pointed look over Gwen’s head.
His ex nodded, though Collier wasn’t sure she really registered his words. Kiley stood quietly to the side, studying him with the intensity of a bird dog on point.
Gwen crumpled her tissue into a ball. “This is just awful, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “Can we talk later?”
“About Lazano?”
“No.”
The plea in her eyes said she wanted to talk about them, but they were finished. He’d never felt it with such finality. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t interested. “If you think of anything else about Lazano, we need to know.”
Gwen’s face crumpled and tears welled in her eyes. “Collier, I’m so sorry. For everything.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Feeling caged, he pulled a handkerchief out of his suit coat and pressed it into her hand. “This is a bad day for everyone. Don’t beat yourself up, Gwen.”
He turned and caught Shelby’s eye, motioning her over. “Let Shelby take you to your car.”
Gwen studied him for a moment, resignation finally crossing her features. She turned to Kiley. “I hope I helped.”
“You did. Thanks.” Kiley smiled.
Collier watched as Shelby guided Gwen through the crowd and toward the front door. From the corner of his eye, he caught Kiley moving away, too.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He snagged her elbow and pulled her back.
“Watch it, McClain.”
“You watch it,” he said in a low voice, turning so he could block her escape with his body. “Leaving me out of the loop like that could be construed as breaking procedure. Why did you do it?”
“I’m in the clear on this.” She pulled away from his hold, though she stayed with her back pressed against the wall. “I figured your name would
