Melting Point. Debra Cowan

a fire burned in a stone fireplace. Taupe carpet provided a warm counterpoint to the navy-and-burgundy-plaid sofa and two navy leather recliners.

      Walker McClain turned to her. “Can I get you something to drink? He’ll be right out.”

      “No, thanks, I’m fine.” If Collier was in such an all-fired hurry to show her what he’d found, where was he? “This house is great.”

      “He’s remodeling the whole thing. We put down a new floor in the entryway this afternoon. That’s why I couldn’t let you in the front door. Would you like to see it?”

      “Sure.”

      They walked back to the small dining room and crossed to the arched opening in the opposite wall. The entryway’s dark red brick was laid in a meticulous herringbone pattern. “Wow. He did this himself?”

      Walker’s eyes twinkled. “Well, he helped me do it.”

      “Hardly,” Collier said dryly behind them. “You don’t know herringbone from a chicken bone.”

      “Whoever did it, it’s beautiful.” She turned, and her words nearly slid back down her throat.

      Sweet Saint Christopher. With his bare, muscular chest and low-slung jeans, Collier looked like Mr. July on the city’s firefighter calendar sold to raise money for the new community center. He was Mr. July, she realized with a start. Man, oh, man.

      There was something to be said for all the hose dragging and lifting and chopping that firefighters did.

      “Sorry to have made you wait, Detective.” His gaze did a slow sweep of her body as he rubbed a towel over his dark, wet head.

      “No problem.” He wasn’t wearing socks or shoes, and something about his bare feet made her toes curl. “Your brother kept me entertained.”

      Light from an overhead fixture slid across his golden chest. His shoulders and biceps were large, the muscles cut with definition. She’d felt that massive chest before, but she had never seen it. It probably would’ve been better if she hadn’t.

      She cleared her throat. “You had something you wanted to show me?”

      His brother arched a brow. “Like your etchings? I thought you had better lines.”

      Kiley laughed, but a flush warmed her entire body.

      Collier grinned good-naturedly. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, bro?”

      “Yeah, yeah.”

      Collier swiped the towel across his chest then draped it over one shoulder. Muscles across his belly flexed with the movement, and the same unwelcome anticipation she’d felt during their dance rose up inside her.

      She seriously had to stop looking at him. “Your house is great.”

      “Thanks.”

      She nodded. He really needed to put on a shirt. Was that a scar just below his navel, peeking over the waistband of his jeans?

      From the corner of her eye, she caught a smile on Walker’s face and glanced over.

      He slapped Collier on the shoulder. “I’m outta here. Looks like you two have business. Call me when you’re ready to do the hallway floor.” He turned to Kiley, amusement and open curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “Detective, it was nice to meet you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

      “Maybe so,” she murmured. Doubtful, she thought.

      He stepped over to his brother and said in a low voice, “Why can’t you ever leave any for the rest of us?”

      “We’re working together,” Collier muttered. “That’s it.”

      Oh, yes, Kiley thought. That was so it.

      Walker disappeared around the corner with a tuneless whistle. Collier led the way back to the living room. She followed, hearing the garage door close, signaling the departure of his brother.

      “Sorry I had to ask you to come here. I’m expecting a delivery from the home store. This’ll be the third time they’ve tried to get my order straight, and I want to make sure it’s right.”

      “No problem.”

      “You got here fast.”

      “Your message sounded important.” She dragged her gaze away from the flex of sinew and muscle, her thoughts going to his disgustingly active and very well-known dating life. Which had no bearing on this case at all. “I’m ready any time you are.”

      “Nice to know, Detective.” His voice lowered suggestively.

      She arched a brow. “How long before you’re ready, McClain?”

      “Let me grab a shirt.”

      Please. “Okay.”

      The back view had to be as good as the front so she refused to watch him leave the room. He returned wearing a red T-shirt stamped with PFD in faded white letters. The sleeves snugged around hard, sculpted biceps, and she admitted to a little disappointment that his chest was covered.

      He glanced at his watch. “I thought Terra would have called me back by now.”

      “I don’t mind waiting until she arrives to watch the video.”

      “She’s probably on her way. Can I take your coat?”

      She shrugged out of it and watched as he hung it in a small closet behind them.

      He moved past her to the recliner closest to the sofa and curled his big hands over the back of the chair.

      “I—” she started.

      “Terra,” he said at the same time. He gave her a crooked smile. “You first.”

      “I tried to interview Sherry Vail yesterday, but she’s still away on a business trip.” The former Presley firefighter had been dismissed in disgrace and told she would never work as a firefighter again. After the murder of victim number two, Rex Huffman, Terra and Kiley had learned about a sexual harassment complaint Vail had filed against him, so they’d talked to her back in November.

      “When she was fired five months ago, she took a job with a company that sells parts and accessories for firefighting equipment. I think she has to go out of town quite a bit.”

      Kiley tucked her hair behind her ear. “I recall that Lazano was one of those called to testify against her at her disciplinary hearing.”

      “Yes, just like the other three victims.”

      The blonde had ample motive to hate the firefighters from her old station house. Kiley knew the woman’s termination had been justified. Vail had been lazy, frequently absent, undependable at a fire and at different times had filed sexual harassment complaints against two male firefighters who pissed her off.

      Collier ran a hand across his nape. “I agree she should still be on our list.”

      “I’ll keep trying until I connect with her.” Kiley stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “What were you about to say before I started?”

      “Terra told me that the two of you interviewed the coffee warehouse manager and all the employees. The manager said there was a working alarm system.”

      “Yes.” Kiley pushed up the sleeves of her dark green sweater, fighting the urge to pace. She could smell the fresh soapy warmth of his skin and couldn’t stop wondering about the line of puckered flesh that disappeared beneath his waistband. She needed to focus. “Their system is computerized, so we were able to get an activity printout from the security company. The alarm was activated last night at closing, just after eleven o’clock, then bypassed at eleven-thirty. They have a backup battery for situations like that, but it was disabled, too.”

      “So, we’re talking about someone who knows the warehouse schedule and also how to deal with security systems.”

      “Right.