She chuckled and pulled free. “But, honestly, I’ve hauled your unconscious weight around. Getting you in and out of a vehicle, and into that store without causing attention? My bet is on your attacker being a he. But how did he render you unconscious?”
Noah scowled. “I was roofied. They found evidence of it in my blood. I could have been walking and talking for a short time without having any memory of it.”
Her mouth fell open. “Isn’t that proof you couldn’t have started the fire?”
“Unfortunately, no.” He explained Durvan’s theory about drugging himself to avoid the pain of dying in the fire.
She shivered. “But that’s insane.”
“Many professionals think people who attempt suicide are at least momentarily unbalanced. But you were telling me about this guy Wise.”
“Right.” She cast a long look at the remaining half of the pie before handing it over to him. “Wise is too cheap to have his cameras monitored. He says the cameras and signage are deterrent enough. But, what if someone knew he didn’t have them monitored? And knew the store was empty. That would be additional reasons to choose that place.”
“Who would know about the phony cameras?”
“No that many. The tenants, though I don’t remember being told about them. And whoever installed them.”
Noah thought long and hard about what she’d said. It was dusk now. The bright red orange glow on the western horizon rendered the rolling terrain of upper Hill Country in soft charcoal black silhouettes. “You’ve got a theory, Carly, and are trying to find facts that fit it. That’s not how a detective works. We discover facts and then develop a theory from the actual hard evidence.”
The rebuke hurt, he could tell, but she shook it off. He liked her better with every second. “Are you a regular at the Brewery?”
“No. A going-away party was being held there for one of our guys who’s moving.”
“Did invites go out?”
“Nothing that formal. A few text messages with the date and time made the rounds of the firefighters, and a few other friends.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “So then, the arsonist might have heard about the party before deciding to act. He would have set things up ahead of time, knowing when and where to find you.” She gasped. “Oh, Noah. What if it’s someone you know?”
He glanced at her with knowing eyes. “That’s been a given from the first. Hell of a thing.”
“Yes.” Her voice was small as she reached across the console to again lay her hand on his thigh. This time there was no attempt at playfulness. This was a touch of sympathy. He’d take it. “What about other possibilities? Any enemies? People you’ve arrested?”
He reached for her hand and curled his thicker fingers over her slender ones. “Already checked them out. All but one is still in prison. He got out last year and promptly left the state.”
“What about unsolved arson cases? Maybe there’s someone you’re looking for who’s afraid you’re close to catching him.”
“You’re scaring me, Carly.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you think too well for my peace of mind.”
She smiled. “I’m catching your train of thought?”
She was derailing it—with her touch, her interest, her intensity—but she couldn’t know that.
“What if I went back and asked Mr. Wise—ow!”
He’d gripped her hand hard. “Dammit, Carly. We’re dealing with a killer. Get that through your gorgeous head. He could be a colleague, or even a casual acquaintance. He could be the last person I’d suspect. Now do you understand why you need to stay away from me? I can’t trust anyone.”
“You can trust me.” She squeezed back, added her second hand as reinforcement.
Muttering a curse, Noah flipped on his turn signal, and jerked the wheel right, sending them fishtailing off the highway onto a two-lane country road and out into the darkness of the spring night.
Carly yelped and grabbed the console with both hands a few minutes later, as they bounced off the blacktop and onto the gravel shoulder. Harley barked loudly in protest, pushing his nuzzle forward over Noah’s shoulder.
“Harley. Down.” At the sound of his handler’s voice, Harley subsided back onto the backseat. But his vocal mutterings were eloquent in their protest of Noah’s driving.
Noah braked, slowing the truck to a stop on the edge of the road.
Carly turned an angry face to him. “What the hell do you—?”
Before she could finish her protest, Noah put the car in park, unsnapped his seatbelt, and surged across the console to pin her between his body and the door.
“I’m done talking, Carly.”
He slid one hand behind her head and released her seatbelt with the other. She only had time to catch a breath before he covered her mouth with his.
CHAPTER TWENTY