AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Because for whatever reason, he had a feeling the puzzle of Brianne Tucker wouldn’t be solved as easily as the mystery of this house fire.
TWO
“SO WHERE DO YOU WANTto start, Ms. Tucker?”
As Marc spoke, Bri angled toward him from her spot by the back door.
The ATF agent was now attired in garb and equipment similar to hers, but the shapeless coveralls couldn’t camouflage his broad shoulders or diminish his height—about six-one or two, using her five-eight frame as reference. Nor did his safety goggles mask those discerning, coffee-colored eyes. The man exuded lean, leashed strength, along with confidence and competence.
A faint fizz flicked along her nerve endings, and she frowned. Not appropriate. The fire that had taken Les’s life deserved her total focus.
Besides, letting a surge of hormones distract her would be unprofessional.
She tugged off her gloves and brushed back a few rebellious strands of hair. “It’s Bri.” May as well reciprocate on the first name suggestion. “And I was waiting to hear your thoughts.”
“You’re in charge here.”
Technically true, but Sarge was going to expect her to treat him as a partner.
“I doubt a former ATF National Response Team member is used to taking orders from a local fire investigator.” She tried for a casual tone, but a touch of irritation crept in.
“You’ve done your homework on me.” He appeared more amused than offended by her subtle testiness.
That rankled, for reasons that eluded her.
She stifled her irritation and shrugged. “I’m thorough.”
“I am too.” He folded his arms. “You’re new on the job here.”
So he’d checked her out too.
The insecurity she kept on a tight leash reared its ugly head, and she lifted her chin. “Yes, but I’ve had other fire-related experience.” In all likelihood more unique than his, though she left that unsaid.
“I assumed as much. I doubt County would hire a green investigator.”
He waited, as if he expected her to recite her resume.
Not happening. If he wanted to know details about her credentials, he could dig for them.
She waved a hand toward the house. “Why don’t I bring you up to speed on what I know so far?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
His manner remained pleasant, his tone conversational, but his sharp, probing gaze continued to assess her. As if he was wondering why she was prickly and defensive.
This man didn’t miss much.
Quashing the latent self-doubt that always tried to chip away at her confidence in the presence of intimidating men, she shifted into her official persona. “I spoke with all the residents of the cul-de-sac last night. No one saw anything or anyone out of the ordinary. I also talked with the fire crew after the blaze was out. All doors were locked when they arrived. There was no sign of forced entry. The window in the room where they found the victim was open a few inches, but they saw nothing to suggest it had been jimmied or was an access point. Neither did I during my perimeter check.”
“How was the fire reported?”
“An alarm from the smoke detector in the kitchen.”
“Any indications it was incendiary?”
“No. According to the fire crew, there was no sign of multiple fires, trailers, or fire-starting devices. Nothing in the smoke color was inconsistent with what would have been in the house. They believe it started in the room where the victim was found.”
“Where was he?”
