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Baptism In Fire. Elizabeth SinclairЧитать онлайн книгу.

Baptism In Fire - Elizabeth Sinclair


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a room in the annex out back for your office and a place for the task force to meet. The names of the two officers I’ve assigned to the task force are in the folder.”

      Stiffening her spine, she clutched the folder. When she looked up, both Luke and A.J. were staring at her.

      “What?”

      “You okay?” A.J. asked.

      Rachel knew she couldn’t wiggle out of answering him, but she refused to be treated like a porcelain doll. “Stop worrying about me, dammit.” A.J. seemed surprised at her sharp tone, but satisfied. Luke continued to study her. “I told you, I’m fine,” she said with much more confidence than she felt.

      “Is anyone ever fine with crap like that?” Luke hitched a finger toward her briefcase, where she’d stowed the files.

      Was he doubting her or goading her? His complexion seemed to have paled, and she wondered if they were fighting the same demons.

      “No, never, but if I’m to do this job right, I need to be able to look at everything as dispassionately as possible.” Including you. She swung back to face A.J., who’d been watching them closely. “I’ll need to walk the fire scenes.”

      “When you’re ready, I’ll walk them with you,” Luke said.

      Another emotional mountain to climb. “No need. I can do it alone if someone will clear me to enter them.”

      “I said, I’ll go with you.” Luke stared unflinchingly at her.

      Rachel knew that fixed expression and his adamant tone. There would be no more discussion. She hated that he thought she needed to be babysat, but something deep down inside was glad he’d be with her. “I want to study all the notes and the photos first. I should be ready in a day or two.”

      Putting off the walk-through was not going to make it any easier, but she swore she would do it before the end of the week. Now that she was here, there was no way in hell she would let Luke see her back down. More important, she had to see it through to the end. The time had come to exorcize her demons and what better way than to catch the maniac who was responsible for creating them.

      “I’ll call you,” she said, deliberately leaving it open as to who she was addressing and avoiding eye contact with Luke.

      It didn’t escape Luke’s notice that she conveniently forgot to ask for his phone number, nor that she quite obviously hoped he’d back down from his offer.

      Luke knew that she’d envisioned herself and Maggie in those photos and not their victims, just as he had. He’d had to have been blind not to see the way they’d affected her. God knew, he was familiar enough with the sick, helpless feeling, the way it made his gut come up in his throat, the huge empty hole inside him that nothing and no one could fill.

      He’d seen those photos innumerable times and still couldn’t look at them without seeing his beautiful daughter, without having to fight down the guilt eating a hole in his soul for not being home to stop any of the events that had torn his family and his life apart.

      Knowing this could head into territory he faithfully avoided, he closed off that part of his mind. Turning his attention back to Rachel, he watched her closely. Though she hadn’t lost one ounce of her beauty, her shoulders didn’t seem as square as he remembered them. Her head lacked the proud angle it had always had. Her body had shed a few pounds and appeared, though he knew there was not a delicate bone in Rachel’s gorgeous body, almost fragile.

      Self-disgust washed over him. Damn A.J. for bringing Rachel here and reminding her. Luke couldn’t change the past, but he could and would be there for moral support when she went through the fire scenes. And at the first sign she was breaking under the emotional strain, he’d ship her back to Georgia, kicking and screaming, if necessary.

      “What about motive?” Rachel asked.

      Luke noted the quiver in her voice. He was sure she’d tried to cover it up, but he’d heard that voice too many times not to be able to read every inflection.

      Shaking his head, A.J. leaned back in his chair. “Nothing except the Bible, which points at something religious. Hell, for all we know right now, maybe his mother dropped him on his head at his christening. Who knows? That’s your department. Get into his head. Right now, all we have to go on is that the fires are being set by the same torch.”

      Rachel nodded. “I’ll be able to tell you more after I’ve looked this stuff over.”

      Luke moved to the side of A.J.’s desk. He knew her caution came as a result of her firefighter training and would keep her from making or voicing premature decisions that she’d have to eat later.

      Rachel stood, grabbed her briefcase, clasped A.J.’s outstretched hand, then handed him a slip of paper. “I’ll be in touch, but in case you need me, here’s my private cell-phone number.” Offering nothing to Luke but a curt nod, she headed for the door.

      “Rachel, one other thing.” A.J. looked from Luke to her. “Luke is heading up the task force and will be working closely with you on this. I trust this isn’t going to be a problem for either of you?”

      “Saving the best till last, right, buddy?” Luke waited, sure she would ask to have him replaced and hoping she’d say she’d go home rather than work with him.

      Rachel paused, her back to them. A long moment passed before she turned and looked directly at her ex-husband. “Not if he stays out of my way.”

      Through A.J.’s open office door, Luke watched Rachel walk away. His gut instinct was telling him to go after her and do anything he could to convince her to go home. But, stubborn as she could be, he knew it would do no good. It still took everything he could muster not to.

      Again, as he watched her disappear around a corner in the long hall, he wondered where he’d found the strength to let her go, to walk out of her life. Maybe because he knew she could make it alone, and she’d be safe without him. Maybe because walking out was easier than looking into her grief-stricken face every day and being reminded of his failure to protect her and Maggie. Maybe, as the days stretched into weeks, then months with no word, he just couldn’t face her undying belief that their little girl was still alive. Thank God she seemed to have reconciled herself to Maggie’s death.

      “Here,” A.J. said, ignoring the emphasis Rachel had put on private, and copying Rachel’s cell number, then handing it to Luke. “If you tell her I gave it to you, I’ll say you swiped it.”

      “Thanks.” Luke tucked the paper into his shirt pocket but continued to stare down the empty hall. He knew, if he encouraged A.J., his friend would make it a personal crusade to get him and Rachel back together. Not a good idea.

      “Think she still has what it’s gonna take to handle this?” A.J. asked from behind him.

      Sighing, Luke turned to his boss and friend. “When it comes to expertise and pure guts, I’d put her up against any man in this station.” Then he smiled. “But if you tell her I said that, I’ll deny every word.”

      Guts? Yes. He’d stake his life on her courage, and had. But could she withstand the emotional buffeting she’d take investigating the arsonist who had kidnapped and killed their daughter?

      Chapter 2

      Back in the beach condo A.J. kept for relatives from out of town, Rachel threw her briefcase on the sofa, slipped off her gray suit jacket and shoes, then switched on the TV for background noise. While she unbuttoned the pearl studs on her white silk blouse, she stared at the blond, female news anchor on the screen.

      “In local news, the Orange Grove Police Department has confirmed that arson investigator/profiler Rachel Lansing-Sutherland has been called in to consult on the serial arsons that have been plaguing Orange Grove for the last six months. Ms. Lansing’s own daughter was abducted two years ago on the night that the Sutherlands’ apartment burned down. The case remains officially open, and our sources in the department say that after


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