Wild Heat

The strange thing was, she suddenly realized, Logan knew more about how she felt than anyone else. For some reason, she'd felt comfortable talking to him about Tony. Was it simply because he was a firefighter? Or was something else there that she didn't want to see?

Logan's voice brought her back to the present situation. “Gary thought he was giving Robbie one of the safer jobs. Robbie's young. Too green to be in the thick of the fire. He was lighting a backfire a quarter of a mile from the property line. It's textbook.” His mouth tightened with rage. “Anyone who knows wildfire behavior would have lit it there. There's no way this explosion could have been an accident.”

“Has anyone tested samples yet to make sure it's gasoline?”

Dennis and the heavy smell of fresh gasoline on his hand immediately sprang to mind. Could he have been involved with the explosion in some way?

“Robbie wouldn't be in the burn ward fighting for his life if some motherfucker hadn't gone out there and doused the entire area. He didn't stand a goddamn chance. The grass blew up in his face. Gary said he was covered in flames, head to toe, and was unconscious by the time anyone could smother the flames and get to him.”

Logan's voice didn't break, his armor didn't fall, and that was what got to Maya the most. It was his job to hold himself together even in the worst of circumstances, when the men he loved were dying.

“He's a goddamned rookie. A great kid with a pretty girlfriend in town.”

“I would have given my life for my brother's,” she said gently, knowing that Logan had to feel the same way, that he believed he'd personally let down Robbie by not being beside him to pull him away from the flames.

No one should go through that kind of helpless pain alone.

“We'll find out who did this to him. I promise.” Logan fishtailed into the hospital parking lot, then leapt out of the truck. She ran through the glass sliding doors a beat behind him.

For the hundredth time, Maya seriously questioned Logan's guilt. There was no way he could have poured gasoline over dry grass in the middle of the night, knowing one of his men might go up in flames. This explosion smacked of a psychotic arsonist who didn't care whom he hurt.

In five years of involved investigations, Maya had never heard the clock ticking so loudly, or so quickly. She was up against a serious threat. They all were.

Logan pushed through a glass-fronted door, and when she saw what had happened to Robbie, her spinning thoughts ground to a halt.

My God.

Tears filled her eyes and it took every ounce of will for her to remain standing. Memories flooded into her system, rising up from the linoleum floor tiles through her feet, gunning for her heart, trying to break her again, just as they'd broken her before.

Robbie lay on the hospital bed, hooked up to a life support system, wrapped head to toe in white gauze. When he woke up—if he woke up—he would be in more pain than anyone should ever have to live through.

A pretty blonde girl who'd been weeping beside Robbie ran into Logan's arms, and he held her tight as she sobbed against him. When the girl finally stepped out of his comforting embrace a few minutes later, Maya could have sworn she'd taken some of Logan's strength with her.

The girl left the room in a daze, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Maya watched Logan kneel on the floor beside Robbie, his head tucked down along the side of a bandaged hand. She didn't know if he was praying or simply hiding his tears.

She'd been through hell with her brother, and still she didn't know a damn thing about dealing with it.

She blinked and wiped away the tears leaking out from beneath her lashes. When the apartment building had collapsed around Tony and his body had been pinned beneath a thick ceiling beam, the other firefighters hadn't been able to drag him out. The heat of the flames had destroyed everything. Even his bones had been reduced to ashes. She'd been so angry for so long at not even being given the chance to say good-bye to him in a hospital.

But now that she saw Robbie surrounded by machines, she wondered if Tony had been the lucky one. In all likelihood, her brother had died on impact. Whereas pain would be Robbie's constant companion for the next several years … if he survived.

She pushed away from the window and wiped her eyes dry. She couldn't allow long-buried grief, or its fresh counterpart, to muddy her thinking. She had to stay focused on the investigation. But it took a long moment to remember where she'd been when Logan heard the news about Robbie. She'd been standing in the airport office questioning Logan and wondering about Dennis's motives.

Intent on finding out more about Dennis, she headed to a nurses' station.

“This is going to sound like an odd request, but I really have to get online to look something up. Could I use one of your computers for thirty seconds?”

The two nurses sitting behind the counter frowned. “I'm sorry, ma'am,” one of them said, “but I'm afraid we can't permit you to do that.”

Maya swallowed a frustrated snarl. She wasn't simply wanting to check her e-mail to see if her nonexistent boyfriend had sent her a note. But they didn't know the severity of the situation. Somehow, she needed to walk the fine line between confidentiality and disclosure.

“I'm an arson investigator,” she said quietly. “And I desperately need to print out a document regarding the hotshot who just came in. It's a vital clue in my search for the person that did this to him.”

One of the nurses leaned forward and looked both ways down the empty hall. “You can use my computer. But hurry, honey. I don't want anyone to see.”

Maya slipped through the swinging door and took the woman's office chair.

“Ellen, you could get fired for doing this,” the other nurse hissed.

Maya quickly pulled up a government background check on Dennis Kellerman as Ellen responded to her coworker with a snort.

“You heard her. She needs to catch an arsonist. I don't want to see another kid with third-degree burns over eighty percent of his body come in here.”

Maya cringed. Eighty percent. My God, she'd known people who'd recovered from third-degree burns on one arm, and their pain had been excruciating. Her heart broke again at the thought of what Robbie would go through if he managed to pull through the initial physical shock.

With shaking hands, she printed the document and logged out. “Thank you,” she said to Ellen as she retrieved the pages from the printer.

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