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Tender Is The Night(6)

By:Barbara Freethy


"What?" he asked, a quizzical look in his eyes.

She realized she was staring at him. "Nothing. Just wondering how it went with Brenda."

"Not great. She got worked up. I really don't like it when women cry. I  am not good with tears. Thankfully, she got angry, too. When I got out  of the car, she was on the phone to her lawyer. Russell is going to get a  big surprise when he returns home."

"Good. So now we get to work on the real case?"

He nodded. "We'll go back to my office."

Her stomach rumbled. "Any chance there's a pizza place on the way? I haven't eaten since early this morning."

"Gianni's is down the block from my apartment. Why don't you order, and we'll pick it up on our way in?"

She looked up the number for Gianni's on her phone. "What do you like?"

"Anything and everything. I'm not picky."

"Not with pizza-only with partners?"

He smiled but ignored her question. "Make sure you get an extra-large. I'm hungry, too."



* * *



Devin's office was in the living room of his one-bedroom apartment,  which filled the second floor of an old Victorian house in the Marina.  The first floor was a boutique vintage clothing shop.

When Kate had first arrived, she'd been more interested in making contact with Devin than taking note of her surroundings.

The office was sparsely decorated with only a desk, two chairs and the  usual computer and printer setup. But at the back of the flat was a den  with comfortable leather couches, a big recliner and an even bigger  television screen. There was a guitar resting against one wall, an  exercise bike in the corner and a bookcase filled with books.

The most interesting item in the room, however, was on the wall. It was a  large blown-up map of San Francisco with colored thumbtacks creating an  interesting pattern.

"Are these spots where the fires occurred?" she asked as Devin came out  of the kitchen with plates and napkins and set them on the rectangular  wooden table next to the extra-large pizza box.         

     



 

"Yes," he said, walking over to the map to join her. "Green signifies  the school fires, blue the community centers, and red the historical  structures."

She studied the pattern, thinking there was something about it that felt  familiar, but she couldn't say exactly what. "And you're positive that  all these fires are related?"

"The SFFD wouldn't agree with me, but I believe they are. There have  been sixteen fires set in the last five years. It's possible that there  were fires before that, but if there were, there was a gap in time of at  least several years."

"What theories have you drawn regarding the significance of the locations?"

"If the arsonist is fueled by revenge, then it seems that the places  being burned are some sort of a sore spot. The person could have been  bullied at school."

"As well as at a community center," she mused. "Both places are where people go to learn or get help."

"And where people can feel marginalized," Devin added.

"What about the houses?"

"That's where the revenge theory gets hazy and turns to something else.  The fact that all the houses are listed on the historic register is  obviously important to the arsonist, but I haven't been able to figure  out how or why."

"Maybe something bad happened in an old house," she suggested.

He nodded. "Or revenge isn't the motive at all. It could be about  thrill-seeking, which is common for arsonists. Schools and community  centers by nature involve lots of people, whether they're all present or  not. The historic structures might also feel more important to the fire  starter. He's not just burning a house but a structure that's valuable  to history, to the city. And as you know, two of the houses were on  federal land, which is also why the Bureau was brought into the case."

"In the Presidio, right?"

"Yes. The houses were originally part of the Army base there."

"Interesting." She wanted to know more, but the aroma of garlic and  onions was calling to her. She sat down at the table and opened the box,  pulling out a large slice of pizza loaded with vegetables and sausage.

Her first bite tasted like heaven, and she finished off the slice in  record time, digging in for a second one while Devin was still working  on his first. He raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged. "Second youngest  of six kids. You learn to eat fast."

"You can have half the pizza, even if you slow down," he said dryly.

"Three slices is my limit. It should probably be two since I have to fit  into a bridesmaid's dress next week. But I'm really hungry, so maybe  three, and I'll just run a little farther tomorrow."

"Do you like to run or do you just do it because it's part of the training?"

"I like to run. I ran cross-country in high school. Running gives me  time to think and burns off the extra energy I always seem to have. What  about you?"

He tipped his head. "Same."

"Really? Something else we have in common. Hard to believe."

"Not so difficult. We both do the same job, or used to," he corrected.

"Are you really happy being a private investigator, Devin? Chasing down cheating husbands? You obviously could do so much more."

"I like my freedom, and right now it works for me."

"What about after you get justice for Sam? Will you go back to the Bureau?"

"I doubt they'd have me. I burned some bridges there. But if they did-I'd have to think about it."

"Because you lost your faith when they closed Sam's case?"

"I did. Although, to be honest, I lost a little faith before then. I  don't like bureaucracy and politics. You think you joined an agency that  will fight for truth and freedom, but within that agency there's not  always truth or freedom."

"I don't believe that."

"I didn't believe it when I was your age, either."

She frowned. "Exactly how old are you, Devin?"

"Thirty-four."

"So not exactly ancient," she said dryly. "I'm twenty-seven, so you've only got seven years of wisdom on me."

"In the world we work in, seven years is a lot."

She finished off her slice and took a sip from the bottle of water he'd  given her. Then she reached for her last slice. "You can have the rest."

"So you said your sister is getting married?"

"A week from Saturday. She's my twin sister, so I'm the maid of honor."

"Is she also in law enforcement?"

"No, she's an artist. She runs an art gallery in a small town down the coast called Angel's Bay."

"I've been there," he said with a nod. "Charming town."

"Very. Beautiful, quaint, and small. Everyone knows their neighbor. My  aunt lived there for a long time. After she died, Mia-that's my  sister-went down there to clean out my aunt's house and wound up falling  in love with the guy next door. He's a single dad and has a daughter,  Ashlyn. Mia is going to make a great mother. She's very patient and  nurturing. And Ashlyn is going to be my parents' first grandchild, so  she's already being spoiled."         

     



 

"Your voice softens when you talk about your sister," he commented.

"I love her, and I miss her, but our lives are probably going to be in very different places for a long time."

"It doesn't sound like you and your twin are very much alike."

"We're not, but we're still connected. When she hurts, I hurt, and vice versa."

"Are you talking figuratively or literally?"

"Both. We seem to have a sixth sense when one of us is in trouble."

"I'm betting you're usually the one who's in trouble."

"Another snap judgment, Devin? You're not exactly batting a thousand."

"Am I wrong?"

She wished she could say he was, but her impulsive curiosity had gotten  her into a lot of bad situations. "Maybe not completely wrong."

"I didn't think so," he said with a cocky smile.

"I doubt you were an angel growing up."

"I definitely was not an angel. But I did try to stay behind the line before my dad died."

"And after?"

"I obliterated the line. I was reckless and stupid. I was lucky I didn't end up in jail."

"It's not too late. You may end up there yet if you keep butting into investigations that you're not a part of."

His smile faded. "Is that what Hal told you?"

"It's what he told me to tell you," she said pointedly. "He's worried  about you, Devin. He thinks you threw your career away. He's hoping that  once you've gotten over your grief you'll realize that you're chasing  air and that you'll come back."

"Chasing air," he echoed. "That's exactly what he said to me. There was a time when Hal would have done exactly what I'm doing."

"Really?" she asked, thinking that her boss was one of the most rigid,  controlled men she'd ever met. "Agent Roman is definitely not a loose  cannon."

Devin shrugged. "Years ago, he was more of a rebel, but it doesn't  matter what Hal thinks or has to say. I know what I'm doing. And I will  prove all the doubters wrong."