Secret Agent Under Fire. Geri Krotow
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to you, Abi. Tell me why you do what you do.”
Her eyes—a man could take a long dip in them. Nothing permanent, of course. But a nice, long, leisurely swim. Naked.
She looked away. “I was always interested in law enforcement, so I had two majors in college—criminal justice and studio art. After I graduated, the FBI was a logical choice.” He really wanted to know why she’d picked arson but sensed it wasn’t the time to ask. She’d tell him when she was ready.
“I understood that they don’t take college grads as agents, that you have to work for a couple of years in the real world first.”
She grinned. It warmed her entire face, illuminated her dark eyes and the freckles on her nose. “That’s where the studio art major came into play. I managed a large craft store franchise until I was eligible to apply to be an agent. It took me a few times, believe me.”
“So why have you quit the FBI? Are you going to sell fabric paint on QVC?”
“How do you know so much about crafting and home television shopping?”
It was his turn to feel interrogated. “I was home a lot last year.” He wasn’t about to tell her his struggle with the depression he’d slipped into when he’d been falsely accused of wrongdoing. When all he’d ever worked for had been destroyed along with his professional reputation. “It’s a long story and nothing for today. Tell me about you, Abi. Why did you leave the FBI?”
Her eyes narrowed and her grin vanished. He’d discovered Abi’s line in the sand.
“No one reason. I never really intended for the agency to be a career. It was a chance to gain experience before I...” She stirred her water with the straw, the ice clunking against the plastic glass, and it was as if she were looking into a crystal ball. “I guess I thought I’d end up in local law enforcement or at a fire station like my dad. But I can’t say law enforcement’s what I plan to do for the rest of my life. I needed a change, that’s all.”
“So your dad is a firefighter.”
“Was.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, nothing that awful. He’s still alive and still working. He just...he just switched jobs midcareer.” With that her eyes clouded and she closed her mouth into a grave line.
He’d expected to be annoyed when she stopped being open to him. Instead he couldn’t hide from the sliver of excitement that flipped in his gut. Keith loved a challenge and was finding that, in the short time he’d spent with Abigail Redland, she’d been nothing less than a complex puzzle to figure out. He loved puzzles, complicated problems. Abi fit the bill. So what was with the shaky feeling in his midsection?
Why should he care what the full picture of Abi would reveal?
* * *
Abi enjoyed her brunch with Keith but was very aware of his being on edge, or, rather, at the edge of asking her more questions. Instead she kept things on the case or on her background, minus the Trail Hikers part. It shouldn’t bother her so much to leave out this one part of her job here. She was used to never discussing her work with close friends and colleagues. It was the way of an FBI agent, and it was her way. She’d chosen fire science and arson investigation out of guilt over a teen stunt gone horribly wrong. A decision that had cost her best friend’s life and her father’s firefighting career.
But here in Silver Valley it felt different. As if she were in a place where no one cared about her past. Or maybe it was Keith. She didn’t like admitting it to herself, no more than she enjoyed working with someone when she wasn’t being completely truthful. But she had no choice when it came to her Trail Hiker role.
She smiled at Keith.
“Chief Todd and Rio think we need to work closely together. That I need to bring you along with me as I go through each arson site again.”
Keith’s eyes narrowed and he set his knife and fork down. “Bring me along?”
“I mean, let you know where and when so that you can meet me, if you want to. Although since I plan on hitting each site over the next couple of days, it might be easier to drive together.”
He started shoveling his crepes into his mouth again. “That’s better,” he mumbled around the food, and Abi thought that maybe she wasn’t feeling herself. Because the very kind of rude table manners that normally annoyed her seemed...sensual. Manly. For scrapple’s sake, Keith Paruso made everything he did appear manly. The guy didn’t know how to do anything in a usual, regular guy kind of way.
“So you want to come along with me? Meet me?”
“Either I can pick you up where you live, or you can come get me.” He pulled out a business card and quickly wrote on the back. “That’s my address and email. The cell number on the front is my only phone.” She flipped over the card and noticed the Silver Valley Fire Department seal.
“Thanks. Nice business card. Can you start today?”
“I should be able to. I’ll check in with the station when we’re done.”
Abi was relieved when her phone vibrated. The screen lit up with a text from the real-estate manager she’d been working with for the past two weeks.
“I’m sorry to cut this short, Keith, but I’m going to have to cut out of here a bit sooner than I thought.”
“Is it about the case?”
“No.” At his unrelenting stare, she capitulated. “I’m on the hunt for a more permanent rental than the business suite I’ve been staying at. As much as I love the free buffet breakfast every morning, I need more space.”
“We’re not done, Abi. We need to figure out what role each of us has in this and how we’re going to get to the bottom of the arsons.” His expression was back to being totally professional without a hint of the genuine interest she’d sensed moments ago.
“Real-estate agents can be tough to pin down and I’d rather not have to reschedule with her.” He’d take the hint, surely?
“Does she have a place for you?”
“Looks like it.” And it was the rent-to-own situation she’d discovered in the real-estate office window, which she was very excited about. Finally she was thinking about settling down somewhere that wasn’t in the middle of a big city. She’d found that living in one could be the loneliest place on the planet when all you did was work, sleep, repeat.
“Where is it, Abi? If you don’t mind my asking?”
“Of course not. You just gave me yours. Not that it’s like belly buttons or, um, whatever. You know, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” What the hell was wrong with her?
Keith grinned. “I don’t think that expression refers to belly buttons.”
“Oh.” She felt her face redden but Keith’s calm expression, the lack of judgment in his eyes, helped her feel safe despite her jumbled simile. Was there anything in her that wasn’t shaken up by Keith’s presence?
She broke eye contact and gave him her address. Oddly, she didn’t mind telling him. She got nothing but healthy, albeit wary, vibes from Keith Paruso. Plus maybe some more intense feelings that could lead to an intimacy she wasn’t ready for, might never be ready for. She’d examine those later.
“That’s the old Pearson farm, right?”
“I’ve no idea who owned it before but, yes, it’s a couple-of-centuries-old farmhouse, originally.” And when she’d scoured the photos and description at the real-estate office it had looked absolutely delicious. Stone walls, dark roof, the rectangular building sat on the highest point of a hill that overlooked Silver Valley. It was in the middle of farm fields all around but the tree line for the Appalachian Trail was visible from the driveway’s entrance. The trail had called to her since she’d arrived in