Page 22 of Avery's Hero

Reeves is handsome. Young. Fit.

Inside me, something dark stirs. His expression is just a little too interested.

Fuck me. Employing a petite, little blue-eyed genius that fills out her uniform way too well is going to be a total nightmare. I’ll be mopping up drool and chewing people’s asses all the time.

Not to mention storming around like a giant, jealous asshole.

Hell, Reeves already has the look of a man that’s fallen into her sea blue eyes and has no interest in being saved.

Suddenly grouchy, I clutch Avery by the shoulder and turn her toward the door. “Daylight’s burning. Let’s get going.”

Reeves, looking oblivious, is still grinning when he follows the hostess away. But I’m not smiling. I’ll be lucky if I don’t need a mouth full of dental work when this is all said and done.

In the truck, Avery leans back in the seat, sighs contentedly as I clutch the wheel and try not to make a bigger deal out of Reeves ogling her than it is.

Of course, the man is going to think she’s hot. Sure, he’s going to be enthralled by her love of fire science. What firefighter wouldn’t be freaking gaga over Avery?

Which is probably exactly what happened after she solved those cases. People probably started to see the starlet for who she really is. A pretty female firefighter, but so much more.

The second fire scene is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Half of the structure is standing. Half is collapsed on itself.

The obligatory crime scene tape is stretched all around the property.

We duck under the line and cross the parking area and the decimated landscaping that surrounds the former document storage company.

The space is gigantic, a big hollow cave that’s missing half its roof. Tall racks reach into the air, some filled with smoke-stained or charred boxes, others nothing more than blackened skeletons where files were once located.

Avery, in the hardhat that I gave her, spins around, angling her face toward the ceiling. “This place is huge.”

I stroll along one of the remaining rows of boxes. “I never realized how much demand there is for these kinds of document storage places.”

“Can you imagine if all your files were here…” Tapping her chin, Avery says, “What happened to the fire suppression system?”

I tip my head. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

At the far end of the football-field length building, I point toward the place where the ceiling used to be. “Whenthat fell—which happened quickly, apparently—it took out some of the critical pipes.”

Avery walks farther into the worst of the fire damaged area. Her boots crunch over mounts of half-burned papers. “It also violates code 44.735 in the county fire code.”

“You already memorized the codes?”

“Of course,” she replies matter-of-factly.

“Maybe you should work for the zoning and permit department.”

She cuts her eyes at me. “Boring.”

I stand in the middle of a clearing between the aisles as she carefully walks around, cataloging the scene in her mind. After a bit, she wanders down the aisles of records. Her cogs are turning. She gets this look in her eyes. It’s fun watching her work.

As she checks out the place, I try to put my mind in the arsonist's head. What would he gain by torching this place? Maybe covering up some kind of records he wanted destroyed…

Of course, fire-starters don’t always have a motive like that. Sometimes, they just want to see something burn.

Why in Lynn’s Cove, though? Why all of a sudden?

“Maybe someone just moved to town,” I mutter as I stare at the littered floor, letting my mind roll over the information that the team gathered after the fire.

Nothing adds up. Yet.

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