“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 may have been people walking or driving by tonight, but I didn’t see a thing besides that stupid cat.”
“Okay.” Kiley glanced over at the victim, now being transferred into a body bag. “How long did you know Dan Lazano?”
“Twelve years. We went through firefighter academy together, then he was assigned to Station Two about five years ago.”
A tightness in his voice made Kiley switch her focus to him. “Were you friends?”
In the glaring, smoke-hazed air, she thought she saw his mouth tighten. “Not really.”
Was there resentment under his words? “Enemies?”
“Not exactly. We had a tug-of-war going on over the nozzle.”
“About who would get it first?”
He nodded.
“Know anyone who would want to hurt him?”
Collier’s gaze bored right through her. “No, but you’ll probably hear different.”
“Okay,” she said expectantly. At five-nine, Kiley didn’t have to look up to very many men, but she did with the six-foot-plus firefighter. A tiny sliver of awareness shimmied up her spine. What was it about this man? She dismissed the giddiness he put in her stomach, but allowed herself to search his eyes. She saw a rawness there before he shuttered them against her. What was he not telling her?
Oh, yeah, she was really getting somewhere with this guy. “McClain—”
“Lazano and I were friends once.” He glanced away, clearly reluctant to talk.
“It’s better if I hear it from you.”
He stepped closer, the odor of smoke swirling around her. “He and my fiancée were—” He broke off and dragged a hand down his smoke-buffed face. “I found them together.”
She drew in a sharp breath. That was brutal. Now she understood the emotion that had flashed through his eyes, and her chest tightened. She really didn’t want to continue this line of questioning, but she had to do her job. “So you had a reason to hate him.”
“But not kill him.”
“Your fiancée cheated on you with one of your friends.” Kiley could only imagine the pain. “If my ex took up with one of my friends, I couldn’t find it that easy to forgive.”
“Not forgiving is a long way from murder, Detective.”
“Not to some people.” Just because Collier had broken his engagement didn’t mean he wasn’t still in love with his ex. And maybe angry and hurt enough to kill the man who’d betrayed their friendship.
Anything was possible and he could’ve hired a sniper and been here to fight the fire, but Kiley had a good sense of people. Collier McClain didn’t seem to be the kind of man who would hire someone else to take care of his problems. He would do it himself, face-to-face. The fact that he could’ve easily been the one killed tonight also helped in settling her questions about his involvement. Once she checked his alibis for the nights of the other murders, she could probably mark him off her suspect list officially.
A glance over her shoulder showed Terra stepping inside the warehouse, but Kiley had more questions. She looked back at her witness. “I may need to talk to you again later.”
“I’ll be around.” He tucked his helmet under his arm and tunneled a hand through his short, wet hair.
Annoyed at the way his cool voice knotted her nerves, she moved over to Pitts and Foster, the safety crew who had been sent by Captain Sandusky to talk to her.
She needed to put aside her personal feelings. The memory of that dance, the feel of Collier’s large hand curled warmly on her hip, the hard length of his body against hers. She had a job to do and she would focus on that. Looking for commonalities between the victims had Kiley asking the same questions she had asked at the other three murder scenes.
Did tonight’s victim socialize off duty with any of the others? Did he go to the same doctor or church with the other victims? High school or college? Had he been involved in a side business with any of the victims? Again all answers were no.
About thirty minutes later, she joined Terra outside the front door of the warehouse where the fire investigator again stood talking to Collier McClain. Three firefighters had backed up his story about the cat as well as vouching for him on the other nights in question.
And the firefighters she’d interviewed had confirmed that he
