She paused, looking as if she wanted to take back what she’d just said.
Jocelyn remained quiet as she opened her desk, retrieving the folder I’d given her a few days earlier. She thumbed through the papers for a moment.
“Don, is this arsonist a firefighter?” she asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m not saying anything for certain, but all logical conclusions point me in that direction.”
“A firefighter nearly killed my brother. Killed a child.” Her voice was laced with animosity as she held up the article about the fire that had killed a five-year-old little boy.
Gritting my teeth, I counted down from ten in my head to avoid letting the string of curses that filled my brain come out of my mouth. How anyone could be undaunted by this revelation was beyond me.
“Why haven’t more resources been put toward this?”
I scowled. “A bunch of political bullshit accompanied by a lack of will from an over-the-hill investigator.”
She gave me a curious look.
“The mayor is gearing up for re-election,” I explained. “Stats show the lowest number of arsons in years, and he has an incentive to keep it that way. The department heads pressure investigators to either solve an apparent arson quickly or hide it. Sweep it under the rug. The investigator I’m supposed to report to is a year away from retiring, and from what I can tell, he’s all but kicked up his feet and checked out. Son of a bitch. Then there’s the captain over at Station Two. I feel like there’s something up with him.”
“Rogers?”
“That’s him.”
“You think this Captain was involved?”
I shook my head. “I can’t say for sure, but my instincts tell me he’s hiding something.”
“Everyone has secrets.”
I watched, eyebrows raised, as a range of emotions flittered across her face.
She lowered her gaze. “We have to go talk to this Captain again. Maybe not while he’s at work.”
“There’s noweabout it. I’m going to find the time to speak with Captain Rogers.” I needed to figure out when and how. He was already on the defensive when I visited his stationhouse.
“I told you,” she insisted. “I’m not sitting this out.”
“I can only let you get but so far involved,” I replied and held up my hand to stop the rest of her whatever retort was about to escape that sexy ass mouth of hers. “We can use the databases and wiretapping or tracking resources you have at your disposal to find this bastard, but I don’t want you running around asking questions. That’ll make you a target.”
Her nostrils flared, and my stomach muscles clenched.
“Please.” The plea fell from my lips as if someone else had said it.
I wasn’t used to begging anyone for anything, but this one time I would. As much as I should’ve said it was for Corey, that I wanted to keep his sister, who he loved deeply, safe, the truth was that it was for me. I wanted to keep her safe for my own selfish reasons.
“And you’ll update me on all of the details,” Jocelyn said.
“Every single one.”
I held off on doing more talking to convince her. Instead, I rose from my chair and circled her desk. She peered up at me with a look of astonishment before confusion replaced it. I lifted her from her chair by the arms. Despite the uncertainty on her face, she rose willingly.
“Do this for me,” I said, bringing our lips close to touching. “I know what I’m doing.”
A war raged behind those copper pupils of hers. I hated that she was so distrustful, and not only about this case. She was suspicious of relationships. Of men. Of me. That pissed me off more than anything.
“I have access to the databases and most of the tech we need to trace almost anyone. Hallease is my go-to for finding any sort of information quickly.”
I kissed her because having her mouth that close to mine without kissing her was torture.
