Page 31 of Arsonist’s Match (Blaze and Badge #1)
I t had already been a glorious day for Flash— making things right with Athena had lifted a weight off her heart. And now, it was about to get even better.
She and Snuffles were invited for a swim, a private dinner at the mansion, and whatever came after.
Flash had dropped her pampered pooch off for a spa day, crushed a high-adrenaline workout at the Extreme Sports ninja gym, met Nita for lunch, then kicked back at her loft watching Hairspray —singing along, of course.
After a steamy shower and quick change, she and Snuffles zipped out to the suburbs on her bike, a fizzy thrill humming in her veins.
The wrought-iron gates swung open like magic at her approach. Beyond them, a riot of sculpted greenery and blooms framed the drive. With Snuffles strapped to her chest and a backpack holding her two-piece and toiletries, Flash kicked down the stand and slid off the bike, leaving her helmet behind.
And there—leaning in the doorway like a decadent fantasy—stood her brilliant, sultry girlfriend, sheer cover-up floating over her swimsuit, eyes glittering in the evening light.
Flash’s heart stuttered. Her grin bloomed wide. Snuffles squirmed against her chest, paws flailing, barking her approval.
“You are the most delectable, desirable siren I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Flash breathed.
Athena smirked, her cheeks tinged rose, and brushed a kiss over Flash’s lips. Turning her attention to Snuffles, she scratched behind her ears and cooed, “Sn uffles, the sweetest, cutest little dog ever! Your mama needs to let you loose so you can go wild.”
“I’m glad to see you too,” Flash teased, trailing after her into the house. She unzipped the doggie pack, and Snuffles burst free in a blur of ecstatic energy—just as Athena predicted.
“I’ll do the dishes,” Flash offered. “It’s only fair after that fabulous meal.”
Athena winced. “I can cook, but I didn’t make this—I picked it up at Cajun Magic on the way home.
” She lifted a palm and a plate, sheepish.
“Don’t get mad. I brought work home. But I want to spend time with you, not shut you out.
I just need to review the interviews and compare them to what the team pulled together today.
It won’t take more than an hour. You can watch TV or have another swim. ”
Flash set her plate down and circled Athena’s waist. “Is there a rule against me helping? Or just sitting with you while you work?”
Athena hesitated, biting her lip. “I was going to spread everything out on the dining table. You’re welcome to stay—it just might be boring.”
“Watching you work? Catching every intense expression, the instant the lightbulb goes on, every gorgeous twitch of your lips? Never boring, sweetheart.” When a week might pass without seeing her, Flash wanted to soak in Athena’s company every chance she had.
Flash grinned. Athena shook her head, laughing, and they got to it.
In truth, Flash was invested. She’d spotted the arson signs. She’d pushed the issue. This case felt as much hers as it did the FBI’s.
Athena laid out stacks on the polished oak table. “These are the employees from the Nutty Smooth plant, Knight’s Construction, Shreveport Steel, and Synergy Warehouse.” She gestured to another pile. “Former employees, with anyone fired marked in yellow.”
Flash nodded, tracking Athena’s method as more stacks appeared.
“These are terminated or washed-out firefighter trainees from the past two years,” Athena continued, “plus known or suspected arsonists not currently in custody. And these are business owners—their finances, their relatives—anything that could hint at an insurance scam or grudge fire.”
“You’ve got hundreds of names,” Flash said, wide-eyed. “Any leads?”
“We interviewed two suspects today.” Athena laid their photos and interview notes on top. “Neither has an alibi, but there’s nothing linking them directly to any of the fires.”
“Hey!” Flash grabbed one of the photos. “I saw this guy—day before yesterday. He was filming the house fire. The one with the little boy …” Her voice caught.
She couldn’t say it out loud. The grief still clawed at her throat—but the rage flared hotter.
“He was filming . Didn’t even stop when Squad Lieutenant Jackson carried him out. I wanted to punch him.”
“Are you sure?” Athena met her gaze.
“Positive.”
“Ricky De León.” Athena uttered his name with an icy, sharp edge. “You don’t know him, though—never ran across him?”
“Why should I?” Flash would have remembered a good-looking, slimy creep like him.
“He spent about a year at Firehouse Sixty-two before getting canned.”
A corner of Flash’s mouth lifted, amused. “Do you know how many people work for the Houston Fire Department?”
With a flicker lighting her hazel eyes, Athena guessed, “Almost as many as the HPD, I’ll bet.”
“Couldn’t say,” Flash admitted, “but over four thousand, easy.”
“Yeah.” Athena turned her attention back to the multitude of papers organized before her, and Flash picked up on how tired she looked. Swimming, floating in the cool water, had been relaxing, and the dinner satisfying, but Athena’s energy was fading under the weight of the investigation.
Flash picked up a stack. “What am I looking for?”
“You don’t have to—” Athena’s fingers brushed Flash’s as she reached out to stop her. The simple contact sent Flash’s skin humming.
“I know.” She met Athena’s gaze with affection and solidarity. “Let me carry a little of the load. ”
Athena’s shoulders relaxed, a smile blooming across her kissable red lips. “Alright.”
They searched, circled, compared, crossed off, and took notes for two hours instead of one.
At ten o’clock, Flash called it. “Up to bed, young woman,” she mock commanded, pointing at the stairs.
“I have an early shift in the morning and, even though it’s Saturday, I know where you’ll be up and off to. ”
“Aye, aye, Captain Cash.”
Laughing, Flash brushed her lips. “I’ll take Snuffles out, then join you. Shall I bring wine?”
“I’ll take care of that.” Athena locked eyes with her, a look of wonder gracing her face. “I’d forgotten, or maybe I never knew, what this was like.”
“What?” Flash asked, teased. “You forgot I’ve slept over before?” Yet she sensed it was something much deeper.
A smile blossomed across Athena’s face—gentle, vulnerable, real. “Having a partner.”
As if the sun had been pressed into a glowing sphere small enough to fit inside her chest, Flash felt it burning there, all warm, steady, and bright. She took a moment to engage Athena in a luxurious kiss, expressing a joy for which she had no words.
“Your partner will be up in a jiff.”
Refreshed and inspired, Athena strode into the situation room the next morning with a spring in her step. Lights glowed, computers hummed, and Shoops and Paulson were already at their desks. The smell of coffee lured her to the beverage station amid chipper greetings.
“Yes, I know you love being here on a Saturday,” she quipped. Athena didn’t often allow levity on the job, but she was in a particularly good mood. Those days had become more frequent since Flash entered her life.
Other agents trickled in as she poured her coffee, and the room gradually filled with energy.
“All ri ght, gather around,” Athena called. “I discovered something new last night, and I want progress reports. I’ve got a task force meeting at eleven.”
“I did a deep dive on Jolene Carver,” Karen Shoops offered, surprising Athena by speaking up first. The rookie had pulled her mousy brown hair into a ponytail and paired fog-gray slacks with a short-sleeved powder blue blouse for her Saturday casual look.
“She’s thirty-two, divorced. Her ex, Bo Nylander, has custody of their kid.
Carver doesn’t have a criminal record, but she’s had workplace write-ups, a few domestic dispute calls—basically, not the easiest person to get along with.
” Karen pushed forward an enlarged DPS photo. “This is her license pic.”
The blonde woman might’ve been attractive, even carrying an extra thirty pounds, but her thin lips and cold, hard eyes gave her the kind of glare that could make a monster flinch.
“The company database still lists her as employed, but, if she quit or was let go the day of the fire, it might not have been logged yet,” Shoops continued.
“There were multiple complaints filed—some by her, some against her. Reprimanded for smoking inside, and she wrecked a forklift. She blamed the equipment, but her supervisor blamed her.”
“What about the ex-husband?” Athena asked.
“Oh!” Karen’s lips tightened in a line, but her eyes danced. “Good ole Bo is a firefighter.”
“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Paulson drawled. “Speaking of which—I’ve got three guys on tape at multiple Houston fires over the past year. Guess who one of them is?” His eyes crinkled with amusement, a grin tugging at his weathered face.
Athena arched a brow. “Ricky De León.”
Paulson stared, stunned. “That’s right.”
“Flash recognized him at a house fire two days ago,” Athena explained, holding back a smile. “He was filming the scene. A police officer had to run him off.”
“Well, I can’t compete with boots-on-the-ground intel,” Paulson said with a chuckle. “But here are the other two.”
He switch ed on the wall screen rather than waste paper.
“Tanner McGraw lost his family in a house fire at age eight and has been in and out of psychiatric care since. His grandparents here in Houston took him in, but he’s got his own place now.
No criminal record, but that doesn’t mean he’s clean. ”
Athena rubbed her temples. So many firebugs had no record—not because they were innocent, but because they could be hard to catch.
“And this is Jesse Morales.” Paulson tapped the screen again.
“At eighteen, our youngest suspect. His high school issued him a certificate of completion instead of a diploma—probably special ed. Fits the BAU profile. Marginal intelligence, possible cognitive delay. He’s shown up in the background of at least twenty fires. ”
“Sounds like he’s worth a closer look,” Campbell said.
“I’ve got someone,” Howard declared, sounding like he’d just discovered buried treasure.
He slapped a sheet on the table. “Trina Delgado, twenty-two. Washed out of the fire academy six months ago, filed a harassment lawsuit, lost, and made threats against the department. What caught my eye? She worked a seasonal fireworks gig in May and June—and she lives three blocks from the peanut butter cannery.”
“Nice pull, Twiggy,” Campbell said, “but doesn’t beat mine.”
He clicked the remote and pulled up the image of a muscular Black man with a hard stare.
“Jericho Barnes, ex-military demolition specialist. Army handed him a general discharge last year after one tour. He lost his license after a DUI and now works as a bouncer. His record flagged alcohol abuse and anger management issues. Guy’s got the skills for arson—and, while there’s no tie to the burned businesses, he might be for hire. ”
Athena gave a nod and turned to Ice and Hernandez. “Anything new on Rusk and De León?”
Hernandez shook his head, grimacing.
Ice answered, “Rusk hit a bar, then went home. De León met a friend, saw a movie, and went home afterward. No sketchy moves.”
“OK, then.” Athena pushed up from the table, scanning the room.
“I want Jolene Carver in this afternoon. Maybe Synergy was her primary target, and the others were warmups. Also, bring in all the peanut butter cannery employees for reinterviews. That was the first ‘Sparkler Fire,’ as the press insists on calling them—makes it the most significant. Keep digging. Make connections. Find me something.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Karen chirped, eager as ever. Athena would always be grateful to Flash for saving the rookie during the July fire at the defunct hospital trap set by the Los D’s—for saving her too.