The small house was totally engulfed. Broken glass littered the ground where the windows had exploded. The flames reached toward the sky, crackling and hungry.
But over those flames, he could hear laughter. His head turned and he saw the redhead. She was sitting on the ground, her arms curved around her undrawn knees. Her gaze was on the fire. She was smiling.
Slowly, he and Samantha stalked toward her. The woman had just planted a damn bomb—one that had nearly taken them all out, and she was just sitting there, laughing?
Oh, yeah, her lawyer will definitely be using an insanity defense.
When she caught sight of them, her laughter stilled. She looked at Samantha and sadness flashed on her face. “Guess I have to get you next time.”
The hell you will.
But Samantha shook her head. “There won’t be a next time for you.”
The woman rocked back and forth, holding her undrawn knees. “There will be. I’ll find you. I never forget. I never let go.”
Good to fucking know.
“Lady, you are under arrest,” Blake snarled.
Her gaze drifted back to the house. “No one will ever know now. His secrets are mine. My secrets are his. No one will know...”
But Samantha’s golden gaze gleamed. “Don’t count on it.”
*
LITTLE WAS LEFT of the quiet house on the cul-de-sac. As dawn rose the next morning, Samantha stared at the charred skeleton that remained of the home. Ashes drifted in the breeze.
The fire had been very, very thorough. The arson investigator had already told her he believed several explosive devices had been systematically placed throughout the structure for maximum impact.
Their arsonist—a fingerprint check had revealed her real name to be Nina Miller—had been very, very deliberate. She’d wanted to make certain that no evidence had survived the blast.
And she’d nearly made sure that Blake and I didn’t survive, either.
But in the end, they’d made it out.
As she stood there, a Mercedes-Benz slowly pulled around the cul-de-sac. She stiffened because she knew that car. It parked behind her smaller vehicle and, a moment later, Cameron unfolded himself from the luxury sedan and headed toward her.
“Went by your apartment.” He had a bag of donuts in his hand. “When you didn’t answer the door, I figured you’d be here.” He opened the bag and offered her a donut.
She took it. Was it odd to eat donuts at such a terrible scene? Maybe. But her starving stomach reminded her she couldn’t exactly remember the last time she’d eaten.
Cameron leaned back against her car. His gaze was on the charred structure. “Cut that one pretty close, didn’t you, Sam?”
She had to swallow twice before she could force down the bite of donut. “Closer than I would have liked.”
He was still looking at the ashes. “I wouldn’t have liked it if you died.”
His words surprised a quick laugh from her. “Jeez, I don’t think I would have liked it much, either.”
Slowly, his head turned and his gaze met hers. There was no humor in his eyes. “The world would be darker without you in it.”
That just might have been one of the nicest things he’d ever said to her. “Thank you.” Cameron could be arrogant. He could be domineering. But...
He was also a friend, one who knew all of her secrets and still didn’t stare at her as if she were a freak.
And, even better, he didn’t stare at her with pity in his eyes.
“What happened to your hands?” he asked.
She looked at the bandages that covered some of her fingers. “Blake was on fire when he came out.”
He caught her left hand. His lips pulled down. “And you hurt yourself helping him.”
“He’s my partner.”
His fingers slid over her wrist, a nearly careless caress. Only, she knew Cameron never made any moves that were actually careless. With Cameron, everything was always carefully planned.
“If someone is going to get hurt,” Cameron finally said, “how about next time we let it be him?”
She pulled her hand away from his. “How about there’s no next time...and no one gets hurt?”
“Don’t think that will happen.” He shook his head. “Your line of work seems particularly dangerous.”
Yes, it was.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
She made herself take another bite of the donut. Then she had to ask him, “Are you...okay, being here?” Because she knew about his past. The fire. The death. Ash drifted in the wind and it had to remind him of the darkness in his life.
The darkness that had changed everything for him.
“You’re with me.” His head turned toward her. “I’ve found that I’m often better when you’re near.”
Her smile came again. “You know, sometimes, you can really be charming.” And a good friend. She could use a friend.
They sat in silence for a moment, then he asked, “So what’s the woman’s story? You figured her out yet?”
“She has knife scars all over her body,” Samantha said. “They were discovered when she was booked.”
“Self-inflicted?” He immediately asked. “Or...?”
“Based on the angles, particularly the wounds on her arms, no, I don’t think they were self-inflicted. But I do believe she willingly received those cuts.”