Kathryn Shay - The Unknown Twin

Lauren stared at the arson investigator. This whole thing was turning into a surreal dream. “Nice to see you again, too.”

He shook his head, watching her. “I can’t get over how much you look like Dana Ivie. I thought that when I first met you.”

“Everyone’s been saying so.”

“It’s somewhat uncanny.”

She shrugged.

“I take it you’ve recovered from the fire.”

Nodding, she said, “The smoke inhalation wasn’t that bad.”

“So, it’s arson.” Alex sat beside her facing the captain. She glanced at him when he spoke. His long, rangy body was stuffed into a small chair, and his legs were stretched out to accommodate his size.

“Yeah, and we know the source of the fire. I wanted to talk to you again, Lauren, to see if you’ve remembered anything more that might have looked or felt suspicious.”

Concentrating hard, Lauren sighed. “I don’t think so, Captain. I fell asleep in my office about midnight, which means I’d been out three hours before Alex rescued me.”

“Hear or see anything when you came into the office?”

“I’d been there all day. The only people I saw that night were Perry O’Connor and Toby Hanson.”

“Yeah, they were working late, too, you said.”

“Truthfully, I just assumed they were working late. But Toby told me the other night he’d left at the end of the day and come back.”

The investigator knit his brow. “Then he wasn’t there the whole time…”

“Is it important?”

“It may be. We’re trying to get a bead on the comings and goings of everyone who works in the building.”

“What was the cause of the fire, Sam?” Alex asked.

“It was set in a storage room where back issues are kept. The torch ignited them. We found evidence of gasoline. Definitely amateur. It doesn’t fit the arson-for-profit profile.”

Lauren didn’t understand. “Excuse me?”

“There are several types of arsonists.” He held up a folder. “We’ve got profiles on each one. They’re broken down by kinds of fires set, accelerants used, personality types for each one.” He pointed to the computer. “With new software, we can draw some of our own conclusions.”

“That’s good,” Lauren said. “Then you know what you’re looking for?”

“Except in this case, the guy doesn’t really fit any of the profiles.”

“You know it was a man?” she asked.

“Most arsonists are male, Caucasian, young, below-average intelligence, have some kind of criminal history and have difficulty establishing normal social relationships.” He sounded as if he was reading from a report.

“Wow.”

He leaned forward in his seat and out of the corner of her eye she saw Alex scowl. Sam Prophet seemed to be showing off a bit. Was it for her? “Some studies say forty percent of all fires are set for profit. Half are set for revenge, the remaining ten percent are for fun—pyromaniacs, juveniles.”

Alex asked, “What about vanity fires?” Jeez, was he showing off, too? He addressed Lauren. “Those are started by the guy who sets the fire sticks around to help out firefighters, to get credit for assisting.”

“They’re often ex-firefighters or wanna-bes.” Prophet again.

“I had no idea arson was so…predictable. It’s fascinating.”

“If this case doesn’t fit the arson-for-profit profile who are you looking for?” Alex asked.

“Well, three areas come up as possibilities. Concealment of a crime leads me to suspect a juvenile fire starter, although those kids usually set fires in vacant buildings or at home in garages or basements. It could be a thrill seeker, since the devices they use tend to be simple, like this one. Or it could be hate/revenge arson.” He focused intently on Lauren. “That’s what I want to talk to you about, especially since Shields said you had a break-in.”

“Well, I think I had a break-in, but the police don’t.”

His gaze was razor sharp. Lauren realized she wouldn’t want to be a suspect questioned by him. “In any case, is there anybody you know of that would want to harm you? Or scare you? I think if this guy was really after you, the fire would have gotten to your office sooner. The fire department had plenty of time to put it out before it reached your side of the building.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Can you think of anybody?”

“Seriously, no. I don’t have any enemies, as far as I know.”

Alex grinned. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

She smiled at him.

“How about disgruntled boyfriends?”

She looked taken aback.

“I’m sorry to pry, Ms. Conway, but this is a criminal investigation. I’m a police officer, too.”

“Oh, sure.” She moved restlessly in her seat and glanced at Alex.

“Would you like Captain Shields to leave?”

“No, of course not.” She lifted her chin. “I was engaged before I left Benicia.”

She saw Alex stiffen.

“Who broke the engagement?”

“I did.”

“May I ask why?”

“He stole from me.”

“What?” Alex blurted out.

“James and I were engaged. He’s an investment broker. I inherited some money when my parents died and he offered to invest it for me.”

“Did he get a lot?” Alex asked.

“No, I caught on quickly.”

Prophet had written down what she was saying. “Has he contacted you since you moved here?”

“Yes.”

“Has he come down to Courage Bay?”

“Once, to try to talk me into coming back to Benicia.”

She sighed, thinking of James’s sensitive face and lying tongue.

“Tell me about the theft.”

“He has a gambling problem. He contends it’s an addiction and he meant me no harm.”

“As I said, torches often have prior criminal records.”

“I didn’t prosecute.”

“Why not?” Alex sounded outraged.

“Several reasons. One was because I got most of the money back. The others I’d prefer not to discuss, if you don’t mind.”

Prophet seemed okay with that, but Alex’s look said he minded.

“We’ll need to talk to him,” Prophet told her.

Her heartbeat sped up. “I don’t really want to see him again.” It was too painful to confront the man she thought she loved. And to confront her own feelings of inadequacy regarding James.

“No reason you have to,” Alex told her. “Right, Prophet?”

“Not that I can see.” He glanced at his watch. “Could you give me the particulars on him now, Ms. Conway?”

The litany Lauren gave of James’s vital stats—forty, divorced, no history of violence or uncontrolled rage—drained what little energy she had. Finally she finished, stood and bade goodbye to Prophet. As she and Alex left headquarters and drove to get her car, she could feel the strain in her sagging shoulders.

In the school parking lot, Alex pulled to a stop by her Accord and turned in his seat. He was really good-looking, with his sculpted features and strong jaw. “I’m sorry, Lauren. This stuff about James must be hard on you.”

“On my pride, maybe.” Now that he knew about James, she wondered how a man like Alex could still be interested in her.

Tenderly Alex reached over and smoothed his knuckles down her cheek. “The guy must have been nuts to blow it with you.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

Glancing out his windshield, she stared at the setting sun. At the clear blue of the sky. She loved this time of day in California, just before supper. “Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“How would you like a home-cooked meal tonight?”

His smile was so sexy it made her heart trip in her chest. “I’d love one. Especially if you’re gonna cook it for me, pretty lady.”