“Did anybody get out?” she asked cautiously.
He offered her his phone, showing her the message from Wade. She raised an eyebrow after she’d read it. “He knew it was going to burn?”
“Seems like.”
“Insurance? He should be keeping his mouth shut. Not like him to blab.”
Jericho didn’t bother passing his theory about Wade’s motives along. There was no point. He’d shown her the text, so his job was done.
At least that part of it. There were regular police duties to take care of: supporting the firefighters, controlling the growing number of spectators, and of course, making sure the scene was preserved so evidence could be gathered once it was safe. Evidence. Because this was probably a crime scene. And, one way or another, Wade Granger was involved.
Jericho could still smell smoke when he woke early the next afternoon. He’d showered when he got back to his apartment, but apparently that hadn’t been enough to rid himself of the stench. It was likely his clothes that were stinking the place up, but he couldn’t get over the feeling that the smoke had somehow seeped into his pores. After all, it was Wade’s smoke, and Wade wasn’t easy to escape from.
He showered again, threw his old clothes into the compact washing machine in the kitchen part of the large main room, pulled on a clean uniform, and grimaced at the beige polyester. After eight years in the Marines and five as a patrol cop, surely he’d paid his dues? Coming back to Mosely had seemed like a time warp in so many ways, and stepping back into uniform was one of the most annoying.
Still, he took a moment to give himself a quick once-over in the cheap mirror on the back of the bathroom door. He was representing Kayla, and her life was complicated enough without having to worry about her officers looking sloppy.
But when he got to the sheriff’s station, it was clear that no one was going to be paying much attention to him. “Jesus,” he muttered, and frowned at Deb, the middle-aged woman who ran the reception area with a precision the Marines would have envied. “They’re back?”
“Just DEA so far. But depending on what started the fire last night, we might see ATF. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the FBI showed up too—they were all pretty chummy last time around.”
“Yeah, chummy enough to get dirty together.”
“That’s probably not a good ice breaker,” she said helpfully. “Especially since you shot three of their guys when they were here before.”
“That was justified.”
“Have they had the hearing already? I hadn’t realized.” He stared at her and she raised an eyebrow. “Youknowit was justified. Ibelieveit was justified. The feds? They may be a little further along the path from certainty.”
“Damn it, Deb, do you think I need to be hearing that?”
“I absolutely think you need to be hearing it. Ideally, you would have thought of it for yourself, but that didn’t seem like a level of self-discipline I could count on.”
He frowned at her. They probably hadn’t had a real conversation since he’d joined the department, and he wasn’t really enjoying the change. “Is there a problem? You and me? Is there— Have I done something to offend you?”
Her smile was quick, warm, and real. “Not at all. But you’ve done something to offendthem, and things will go better for everyone if you remember that.”
“Better for—for the department. For Kayla.”
She nodded. “Yes. For everyone.”
It was pretty hard to argue with her on that one. “Okay. I’ll keep a low profile.”
“That seems unlikely. But try to be conciliatory, okay?”
“Conciliatory? Are you— The shootings werejustified, Deb! They’d killed at least one man, possibly more—possibly myfather—and they kidnapped two kids! Members of my family.” They weren’t exactly aclosefamily, but that was none of the feds’ business. “I got shot too, you know. And you wantmeto be conciliatory?”
“I want you to remember thatthesefeds are not dirty. I want you to not pull out the attitude you showed the last time feds were in town. I want you to remember that Kayla doesn’t need to deal with your nonsense.”
And Kayla herself appeared then, distracting Jericho from trying to find out what the hell Deb knew about his so-called attitude and why she was suddenly deciding to comment on it.
“Jay, we need to talk.” She strode toward him, her duty belt making her hips look wider and somehow more feminine despite their weaponry. He wondered when Kayla and Deb had formed their alliance, then remembered thathewas Kayla’s ally. Imported all the way from LA just to watch her back.
“You want to talk about the feds?” he guessed. “I already got an earful. I’m fully prepared to be professional and—” he frowned at Deb “—not ‘conciliatory,’ exactly, but professional. Yeah. Let’s stick with that.”
“That’s great,” Kayla said. “But not what I wanted to talk about.”
“Oh.”
