Geri Krotow - Secret Agent Under Fire

Keith relented and let his shoulders drop.

“Sorry, Colt. It’s been a long night, a fruitless morning, and we still don’t have the arsonist. I’m not convinced it’s just one person any longer, either.”

Colt’s eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

Keith debated how much to tell Colt. Because he wanted to nail this fire starter himself. He had to. To repair the damage to his professional reputation, which had been crushed under the lies and corruption of Silver Valley’s most recent administration, including an outsider mayor who was now behind bars in the state prison at Camp Hill. Worse for Keith, a couple associated with the cult had falsely accused him and his fire department of negligence at the Silver Valley Community Church fire two Christmases ago. It had cost Keith his job; he’d been placed on administrative leave for several months. Even though the charges had been dropped, thanks to Rio’s hard work, Keith felt the cloud of judgment that hung around his neck like a lead weight.

“There have been a few signs that the fires are being set differently. Same propellant, gasoline, but with different starters. This house reeks of chemicals from fireworks, and I heard two large explosions before the flames started. My firefighters staged a mile away heard them, too. Yet we saw nothing on our walk-through inspection last night.” He wondered if Abigail had heard those explosions, if that was what had alerted her to the assailant. That must have been what had prompted her to take off after him, at least.

“The first few were definitely started with matches. Maybe one was a butane lighter,” Colt mused aloud. “It’s not unusual for an arsonist to change starters, is it?”

Keith looked up at the blue sky, watched two red-tailed hawks circling each other. Freedom. That was all he ever wanted. Freedom to do his job in peace, knowing he was serving the citizens of Silver Valley, enabling them to sleep at night, knowing that if the worst happened and a fire broke out in their homes, SVFD would be there and all would be okay.

Home fires and car fires from accidental means were one thing. Pursuing an arsonist was another.

“They can, and do. But this guy seemed so methodical with the first two fires. And we’re lucky he’s stuck to unoccupied structures so far, Colt. I don’t have to tell you what’s at stake with his growing number of fires.”

“No, you don’t. I know he or she is escalating. At least that’s what Abi—” Colt pursed his lips, sized up Keith’s demeanor. “All right. I’ll tell you that she’s former FBI. And that her specialty is arson.”

“She’s just ‘former,’ huh?” Keith had never seen Colt lie, but people in law enforcement often had to play their cards close. Very close.

“Yes, definitely former. Enough said. Abi has a crap ton of experience in the analysis and psychological profiling of arsonists. And her observations are scaring the crap out of me, Keith.”

“How so?”

“We’ve seen the amping up of the frequency of fires, and the structures are getting more valuable.”

Keith had noticed that, too. It was one thing to burn down an old barn that should have been razed years ago, to set fire to it in the dead of night with little or no risk to anyone. But abandoned farm structures like barns and sheds had given way to empty commercial property, to historical homes that were awaiting refurbishment and empty homes like this morning’s farmhouse. From uninhabited dwellings to places where people lived or would be able to live soon.

The arsonist was escalating, even if it wasn’t a straight-line progression.

“What are we going to do about it, Colt?”

Colt’s eyes reflected surprise at Keith’s admission that they had to work together before he allowed a reluctant grin to cross his face.

“We are going to put our heads together and use every tool we have at our disposal to catch the bastard.”

Keith nodded. “What next?”

“Can you spare some time down at police headquarters this morning?”

“Sure. My firefighters are on this, and the station’s fully staffed.” He referred to the current fire, which his team had already radioed they’d put out. He had his full roster on 24/7 schedules. Thankfully there was no injury or family leave scheduled for the next month. “What time do you need me there?”

“Call Rio and ask him. You’ll meet with him and his team.”

Colt didn’t have to say who was on Rio’s team. Keith already knew he’d have to face Abigail Redland for the second time this morning. And while his head knew he should be more detached from her, or even annoyed at her involvement, he couldn’t ignore the anticipation he felt at the thought of having another chance to see her.

Chapter 2

Abi still wanted to scratch someone’s eyes out an hour after leaving the stakeout. An hour after meeting Silver Valley’s fire chief. She poured herself a cup of the awful SVPD coffee and waited for the rest of the case team to get their notes together for the wrap-up meeting. And of course they had to wait for the Silver Valley Fire Department officials to show up.

Which would bring her face-to-face with Fire Chief Keith Paruso again.

It’d been a couple of hours since she’d met Keith Paruso and her body had yet to stop humming from the immediate attraction he’d lit in her. It was as real, as strong as her certainty that not only was he a fire chief, he was a dog. As in capital-H hound dog. He had the bod and smile to get a lot of women in his bed, for sure. She almost giggled, thinking about how puzzled he’d appeared that she hadn’t fawned at his every word.

Focus, focus, focus. She was undercover as a Trail Hiker agent, but outwardly a special advisor to SVPD. That made any kind of romance with other LEA off-limits until this case was solved, especially with another Silver Valley public official who didn’t know what she was really doing. Who didn’t even know about Trail Hikers. There was at least one if not more arsonists to apprehend. In fact, after today, Abi was certain there was more than one and that the fires were being set individually.

So her love life had to take a backseat—nothing new. The case stretched before her as none other, however. Even with all the twisted cases and sociopaths she’d analyzed for the FBI, she had to admit the Silver Valley fire starter had even her stymied. It was a first for her in a long career of catching arsonists. A career she’d committed to while still in high school, when she’d been brokenhearted at the accidental death of her classmate in a house fire. Don’t go there. She tore her thoughts from the dark memories.

Making her way through the break room and down the corridor of the medium-size station, she stuck her head in Rio Ortego’s office.

“Hey, Rio.”

“Abi! Come on in for a bit.” He didn’t look as tired as she felt, yet he’d been up all night, too.

She sank down in a worn leather chair and took in the framed photo of Rio and his girlfriend, Kayla, that rested near his monitor. Why did everyone but her seem to have a life partner? Would a move to Silver Valley bring her love life back in line? After this case was closed, of course. Not one minute sooner.

She’d been recruited for the secret government shadow agency when she’d left the FBI after ten years of honorable service. The offer had been too good to be true; she’d work contracted missions that paid enough to maintain her Old Town Alexandria town house while traveling the world to complete missions her FBI training seemed perfect for.

Except going “home” to DC had gotten harder. The town house was nice and its location prime—for a commuter, which she no longer was. The days and weeks in between Trail Hiker missions felt longer and, in fact, boring. She’d been toying with making a move to somewhere free of DC’s political pressure, away from the abysmal traffic, away from the city life she was ready to leave behind.