“Oh. Right.” She slowly came back to him, exhaling her tension in a rush. “The shelter was built with funds provided by the Darmody family, who’ve owned the land up here for three generations. Lucy Darmody spearheaded the project in response to teasing from her family that she was turning her house into a zoo, due to her tendency to pick up stray, wounded, and unwanted animals. When she passed away, her children didn’t want the hassle of it, so they donated the equipment and planned on razing the building and kennels. Since then, it’s been tied up in litigation. They can’t agree on the best way to monetize the land.”

“How often do you come up here?”

“Not a lot.”

He studied her covertly from behind his shades. “But you used to.”

“Years ago. My dad is a vet and he used to donate one weekend a month to coming up here to spay and neuter. He conscripted me and Dani—my sister—into odd jobs whenever he could. That’s how Dani found out she loved the practice of veterinary medicine.”

“Too tame for you.”

She glanced at him. “Yes. I love animals, but it just wasn’t a vocation for me.”

“Where is she now?” Jared wanted to meet Danielle. He wanted to see Darcy with her sister, see the emotions and reactions she had to someone she loved and trusted.

“Near my parents.”

Why was Darcy still here? he wondered again. Without family ties, what was rooting her?

They pulled into a gravel parking lot riddled with weeds. At the end of the lot, charred cement block walls outlined the building that had once stood there. The kennels were obvious, the chain link and cement having weathered the fire well.

Darcy entered the building, her shoulders high and tight, the beam of illumination from a Maglite leading the way. “This was the main office. There wasn’t a whole lot left in here. Some built-in bookshelves and boxes of records for deceased pets. The boxes were moved into that corner there, with the incendiary device placed in the middle. We estimate the fire began sometime around ten in the evening.”

“And the unidentified witness called at quarter after. From Seattle.”

“With the timed delay, he could have set the stage and made the drive with time to spare.”

He glanced at her. “Where’s the fun in that?”

She stepped into a slender ray of light entering from a hole in the ceiling and gave an approving nod. “Exactly. What pyromaniac doesn’t stick around to watch the show?”

“One who isn’t obsessed with fire,” Jared answered, which he knew was impossible.

“Then he’s not a pyro, is he?”

“I’m following. We’ve already noted that the materials used to build the structures our subject selected were not the most flammable choices.” Jared rested a hand on the butt of his gun. “What are some of the other reasons to start a fire? We talked about insurance payouts. Maybe revenge? Damn it, the incendiary devices are tripping us up. Like you said, they’re too sophisticated, too meticulously built.”

“Right. Someone loves them, loves working on them, loves imagining the destruction they’re going to cause.”

“So we’re back to a pyro who doesn’t get off on his own fires.” He stared at her. “What are you thinking?”

“That maybe what you said about Merkerson passing the baton to a protégé is spot-on. What if they’re working together, with Merkerson teaching the ropes, deliberately starting off with a small town and structures that are manageable?”

“A training ground.”

“Yeah.”

Jared’s mouth curved grimly. “I’m liking this.”

“It pulls more of the threads together.”

Impressed, he asked, “How long have you been thinking along these lines?”

She stepped deeper into the building. “Since the tip came in. How do you have a torch igniting a fire in one town and a tipster in another? Two people. Occam’s razor.”

“But you waited until the third fire to shout out for help?”

“It wasn’t my call.” Darcy opened a door that led outside, flooding the interior with dappled sunlight. “Then I made it my call.”

He followed. “I’m hung up on something.”

“You, too?”

“Those sophisticated time bombs you talked about—they’re better than they were back in the day. If it is Merkerson, he’s upped his game over the years. He’s been honing his weapons of destruction, modernizing them, which means he’s been somewhere he could acquire the tools and substances he needed.”

“Not jail, then.” She paused at the end of a walkway that emptied into a small patio surrounded by the kennels. Her eyes took on that faraway look again.

Drawing to a halt beside her, he asked quietly, “What are you seeing?”

“Memories.” She pointed to a kennel and her breath left her in a rush. “Dani locked me in there once—for an hour—because I ripped the knee on her favorite pair of jeans when I borrowed them…without her permission.”

He set his hand at the small of her back, offering what support he could. “I knew you were a troublemaker.”

Darcy leaned into his touch. “I always thought it was stupid that so many fugitives stick around familiar locations. If they value their freedom, I’d think they’d want to get out of the country. Maybe that’s what Merkerson did. Canada, maybe? Or Mexico?”

“We can share his photo and see if anything shakes loose.” Jared took another look around. “But this location is remote. He would’ve had to hear about it from someone familiar with it, or he would’ve had to come here himself and find it on his own. Wouldn’t be something he’d accomplish in a day.”

“He might’ve stayed here awhile? Is that what you’re thinking?” She turned toward him. “A snake in the grass, how creepy.”

Cupping her face, he took her mouth. The kiss was slow and simmering, a gentle stroking of tongues and brushing of lips. He continued until his breathing was fast and she was pressed against him. Pulling back, he studied her eyes and found them dazed and hot with desire, which was a damn sight better than seeing them filled with shadows. “That’s better. Now we can go.”

DARCY’S LIPS WERE still tingling when they pulled up to the curb in front of the Sweet Spot. More profound—and infinitely scarier—was the warmth he’d pushed through her with his kiss, thawing the knot of ice that had settled in her stomach.

Jared got to her. Far too deeply and easily, and she didn’t know how to deal with it. It was outside the scope of her experience.

She loved men. She was fascinated by them and enjoyed the hell out of them, but they were accessories. There was too much going on in her life, too many things that took up her time. Dani called her a heartbreaker. Darcy hadn’t ever set out to hurt anyone, but it had been known to happen.

Looking at Jared over the hood of her work truck, Darcy wondered why he had to be the one to get under her skin. What was it about him? He was testy and brusque when he was in a good mood, and an ass when he was in a bad one.

One of his brows arched over the top of his sunglasses, a gesture that said, What are you staring at?

You. You’re affecting me. Stop it. Instead she said, “You can’t blame me for ogling. You’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen.”

“Keep thinking that way. Are you coming?”

“Not unless you need me. I don’t have anything to add to my report.” She couldn’t face the ruins of another place she loved. The shelter had been bad enough. Visiting the site again had hit her harder than she would have expected. Because of Jared. He’d opened her up, found a way inside her through the hairline fractures he had created, and left her vulnerable to the reality of her losses in a way she hadn’t been before.

With a curt nod, he ducked under the crime scene tape and stepped through the frame of what used to be a large front display window. It had exploded outward during the fire, showering the sidewalk with glass.

The proprietress of the adjacent jewelry store waved at Darcy through her matching window, then stepped outside. She was a statuesque brunette with cornflower blue eyes and bone structure to make a plastic surgeon weep in awe. With her waist-length black hair swaying around her shoulders, Nadine Bender glided over and joined Darcy in leaning into the truck. “Is that the Fed?”

“Deputy U.S. Marshal,” Darcy qualified, her eyes riveted to Jared as he examined what was left of the shop. He got a particular look on his face when he was focused on work. It was laser bright, sharp as a blade, and sexy as hell.

Nadine whistled. “He’s a looker.”

“Absolutely.”

“You sure can pick ’em. You’ve got a thing for men in uniform. Chris, Jim, and now this guy.”

“Deputy Cameron,” Darcy supplied as Nadine bumped shoulders with her.

They’d gone to school together, from kindergarten through high school. Like Darcy, Nadine had fled Lion’s Bay as soon as she graduated, then came back. They joked that the town was like a vortex, inexorably sucking natives back into it.

“All I did was call in the cavalry.” Darcy shrugged. “I can’t take any credit for his hotness.”

“And you snagged him straightaway. I can see it in the way he looks at you. If I thought you were purposely grabbing all the sexy men, I’d hate you. You’ve always been the biggest guy magnet. Makes me pea green.”

“You’re way prettier than I am, Nadine. Always have been.”

“Doesn’t matter. You have this vibe that drives men wild.”

“That’s not always a good thing,” she muttered as a patrol car parked behind her truck.

Miller grabbed his hat off the passenger seat and unfolded from behind the wheel. His gaze was on Darcy as he set the hat on his head and shut the door.

“Hey, Chris,” Nadine greeted with a wave. “How are you this fine early afternoon?”