Page 39 of Burning Justice

“No. That would make it even harder for us to track these people down. If they even exist.”

“Exactly. Even if we can’t prove these names are all phony, we can’t prove they aren’t, which makes it worthless as evidence.” They needed more, something to connect all the dots. Otherwise, this was all circumstantial. “Did you bring your spiderweb diagram?”

“Yes.” Gemma went to the bed and pulled out the document from an accordion folder. She unfolded the diagram, smoothing it out on the mattress.

Brett went to the bed and looked at the drawing, absorbing every detail, following every line with its possible links to suspects. “We’ve got a connection between that disgruntled employee, Johnny Nash, and the warehouse fires, and a weak connection between Nash and the Torrance Lane fire, MEK being the common accelerant used at both locations.”

“What are you thinking?” Gemma sat next to the drawing, leaning over just enough to give him another glimpse of the tops of her breasts.

Do not answer that question. At least, not truthfully.

Brett sat on the other side of the drawing. “How many of your suspicious fires happened in the last twelve months?” She pulled out another folded document, this one an enormous map with Post-its where the colored push pins had been. “Put it on the floor.”

She set the map on the floor at their feet. Brett slid the spiderweb diagram to the floor next to it. From their vantage point, they had a slightly distanced view, similar to the one they’d had when the map and diagram were tacked to the wall in Gemma’s office.

Gemma rested her forearms on her knees. “Five of the fires happened during the last twelve months.”

“Nash was in jail for the last year, so he couldn’t have set those fires.” Brett’s gut told him they were on the right track, but they still didn’t have something connecting all those fires to one person.

“He could have had an accomplice,” Gemma suggested.

“Possibly.” Brett didn’t think so. “Nash’s motive for the warehouse fires was revenge. Whatever’s going on here is calculated, organized, and scattered all over the state.”

One of the most useful tools in an arson investigator’s toolbox was crime mapping, recording arson cases cartographically. Based on the locations of fires, the likely area where an arsonist lived could be speculated, then a search run through a registry for any previously convicted arsonists living in that area.

But that would never be enough to convict. It merely narrowed down the focus to one area.

“Nash doesn’t look good for these, does he?” Gemma asked, although it was really more of a statement.

“No, so let’s look at this from a different angle, something we haven’t considered before.” Brett pointed to the map. “What happened to all these other properties after the houses burned down? Did the owners rebuild?”

“I don’t think so.” Gemma stroked her chin. “Some of them have been rebuilt by now, but none by the same people who owned the houses when they burned. After all the fires, the property owners filed an insurance claim, then sold the land shortly thereafter.”

“Did any of them make a profit?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to calculate that based on the original purchase prices. But property values have been skyrocketing over the last few years. That plus the insurance claims…it’s conceivable they could make a profit even if the houses were a total loss.”

“Can you pull all that data and calculate profit and loss for all these houses? You’re better with stats, spreadsheets, and diagrams than I am.” He grinned. “I’m more of a hands-on kinda guy.”

When he held out his hands, Gemma glanced down, arching a brow. “I’ll just bet you are.” She sucked her lower lip between her teeth, then slowly let it slide out.

Was that a double entendre, or was she kidding around? Ah, hell. The vibes zinging back and forth between them were cranking with energy. Hot energy. He could feel it on his skin, in his blood, and in the way his heart revved.

Her lips parted, then her gaze dipped to his mouth, and her nostrils flared. No way was he misinterpreting that body language. She was thinking about the same thing he was and shouldn’t be.

Don’t do it. Don’t. Do. It.

Before he could stop himself, he was leaning in, just a fraction of an inch, waiting to see if she’d split the diff. The moment she did, his lips were on hers. Gently at first, tasting the subtle curves before slipping his tongue inside her mouth.

A soft moan came from the back of her throat as he deepened the kiss, tasting her sweetness mixed with toasty malt and spicy hops. He slid his hand into her thick hair, loving the feel of the silky strands against his rough fingers.

She leaned in closer and put a hand to his chest, hesitantly spreading her fingers wide over his pec. The touch might have been light, but the effect it had on him was hotter than a branding iron, singeing his skin straight through his shirt.

Slipping his hand beneath her thighs, he tugged her onto his lap, right over his erection that was stiffening harder than a cobalt drill bit.

Heat from her body radiated to his. Her warm milk-and-honey fragrance was in his nose and in his lungs. She tasted even better than she smelled, and that was pretty awesome.

With their lips still fused, he rolled them to their sides on the mattress, snugging her petite frame against his, until her breasts pushed at his chest.