John felt like he was in a doll’s house. Or a storybook cottage. Everything around him was bright and feminine. Not frilly. Feminine.

The love seat and chairs in the living room were covered in a white-and-blue floral print and there was a rolltop writing desk stacked with books that took up an entire wall. A candle was burning on a small table by the window.

He walked over to blow out the candle and saw an open Bible next to it. It obviously wasn’t a decoration. Some of the verses had been highlighted with fluorescent pen, and there were bookmarks sticking out everywhere.

Fiona emerged from a room down the hall and caught him studying it.

“Part of the Kelly family legacy? A badge and a Bible?”

“No.” She held his gaze. “But it will be.”

KATHRYN SPRINGER

is a lifelong Wisconsin resident. Growing up in a “newspaper family,” she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter. She wrote her first “book” at the age of ten (which her mother still has!) and she hasn’t stopped writing since then. Initially, her writing was a well-kept secret that only her family and few close friends knew about. Now, with her first book in print, the secret is out. Kathryn began writing inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.

Tested by Fire
Kathryn Springer

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by name; you are mine!

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

And through the rivers, they will not overflow you.

When you walk through the fire,

You will not be scorched,

Nor will the flame burn you.

—Isaiah 43:1-2

This book is dedicated to:

My parents, for your love, encouragement and support through the years.

Cindy—you were the one who believed in this book, in these characters and in me. Thank you for listening, for asking questions, for allowing me to alternately whine and squeal with joy (depending on what was in the mail) and for all your prayers.

Love you, friend!

Grandpa Goldsmith—thank you for the writing gene!

And especially to Pete, who gave me the freedom and the time to pursue my dreams.

When I was tempted to quit, you said “Don’t.”

You are—and will always be—my hero.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Letter to Reader

Prologue

“I think I’ll ride with you a while, John.”

John Gabriel paused and looked at his chief in surprise. The man behind the desk chuckled and eased his bulky frame out of the chair with a fluidity that belied his size. “I’ve got two weeks until retirement…I thought I should say my goodbyes to the neighborhood.”

John didn’t believe him for a second. Seamus Kelly was the neighborhood. His great-grandfather had stepped off the boat with Irish soil still caked under his fingernails and nothing that separated him from the rest of the crowd but a burning desire to make a place for his family in America. He had found his niche working as a bobbie in the slum areas of New York City, and the badge became a legacy that was passed down through the generations. Everyone who worked at the department knew the story. The Kelly family was a legend in law enforcement. There was a cop sitting on every branch of the family tree.

“Do you want to drive?” John asked, dangling the squad car keys from one finger.

“Get away with you,” Seamus said irritably, but the gleam in his eyes told John he was pleased with the question.

As they walked in companionable silence to the car, John realized he wasn’t nervous around the man anymore. When he had been hired nine months earlier, he had secretly mocked the way the other officers revered their chief. After all, he was just a man. A man whose hair was thinning, whose middle was beginning to thicken and who sometimes forgot to schedule a night car on the weekend. In John’s mind, a man who should pack the old thermos into the old lunch box and make a spot in the department for someone younger.

Yet for the amount of awe and respect Seamus Kelly commanded, his temper was also widely recognized. It erupted like a volcano with old Gaelic spewing forth like lava. John had seen it—and felt it—about a month after he was hired.

His training officer, Dennis Meyer, was unimaginative and rather lazy. John was hungry to learn everything about being a cop. He pumped Meyer for information, badgered him about the need for a progressive department and generally made a nuisance of himself, until the man snapped one day and went to Seamus. The next thing John knew, he was standing in front of the legendary Irishman himself.

“So,” Seamus growled, his eyebrows almost meeting over his nose. “You and Meyer have a problem, eh? None of my men ever have a problem with Meyer, so that means you must be the problem.”

“Officer Meyer is slow—he’s getting old.”

Seamus stood up and leaned over the desk. “Too old?” he snorted. “He’s ten years younger than I am. You were still on the playground when Meyer was getting a medal for bravery.”

John stiffened.

“You had a chip on your shoulder when you got here and I thought Meyer would smooth it down a little. Fact is, I think you’ve given him one now.”

John almost smiled. Seamus saw it.

“You think turning one of my steadiest officers into a raving lunatic is going to get you a promotion, lad?” Seamus’s voice rose and several officers within hearing range suddenly melted into the woodwork.

“At least that proves he’s still alive,” John had retorted. “Sometimes I have to nudge him just to be sure.”

He couldn’t believe he’d said that. Here came his walking papers for sure.

“So who does the particular John Gabriel want for his training officer?” Seamus asked sarcastically.

“You.” John said the first name that came to mind and realized it was the truth.

There was absolute silence. John waited for the bomb to drop. Then, Seamus Kelly started to laugh. It was more frightening than a downpour of Gaelic.

“Lad, you remind me of me,” Seamus sputtered. “You just got yourself a new training officer.”

In an unprecedented move, the chief had ridden with him for four weeks and John had discovered during that time that the man’s heart beat for two reasons—his family and law enforcement. Even after John’s training was complete, Seamus still rode with him on occasion, bragging about his children and grandchildren. John always listened politely but unemotionally. Family ties were something he had never experienced, although he’d finally taken a tentative step toward that mysterious phenomenon when he’d asked Kristen to marry him. When she’d said yes, he had experienced, for the first time, an inkling of what some would call hope. Once they said their vows, his life was going to change. Was going to be better…

“Swing by Sixty-Fourth,” Seamus instructed now. “The owner of the Meritz Company called me yesterday and said some kids have been hanging around the warehouse.”

So that was it. If Seamus told someone that something would get done, it would. He personally made sure of it. John turned the car around and it cruised stealthily down the street.

“I suppose they’re throwing me a big retirement party,” Seamus groused.

“No.” John slid him a sideways glance. “We’re throwing the party after you retire.”

Seamus slapped his thigh and laughed. John allowed a smile to surface.

“Slow down.” Seamus leaned forward suddenly. “I saw someone by the Dumpster.”

John frowned. He hadn’t seen anything. Still, he had witnessed enough in the past months to convince him of Seamus’s instincts as a cop. He pulled over and Seamus was already opening the door.

“I’ll check it out, Chief.”

Seamus flashed him an impatient look. “I’m retiring, Gabriel, but I don’t need a baby-sitter yet.”

They approached the back of the warehouse on foot and John made sure he was ahead of his chief as they neared the building.

“Window’s out.” John made a slow turn with the beam of the flashlight. “I’ll call for backup.”

Suddenly, bodies erupted from the gaping hole in the glass, smoke trailing behind them. Three teenage boys were captured in the light, their eyes wide and full of panic.

“Our b-buddy—he’s still in there,” one of them stammered.

Seamus was disappearing through the hole before John could react. He called Dispatch, requesting both backup and the fire department, then turned toward the boys. They scattered in three different directions. John decided Seamus was more important. He broke the rest of the glass out with his flashlight and climbed through.

“Get out of here, Gabriel!” Seamus was a dim shadow in the smoke-filled interior of the warehouse. “It’s not just a fire. Clear out!”

“He said there was someone else in here,” John muttered, and then realized with sudden clarity that the only ones trapped in the building were he and Seamus.

There was an ominous popping sound and John instinctively threw himself at the older man. He felt his body connect with the chief’s before heat enveloped him and his vision blurred. Something thudded into his arm, pushing him to the floor.

Sirens screamed in the distance. John pulled Seamus toward the window and saw hands reaching for them. Pain radiated through his body now and there was a gray haze around everything that was getting thicker.

I guess we’ll both be retiring, John thought bleakly, before the heat totally consumed his thoughts.

Chapter One

Ten Years Later

The door opened at ten o’clock. A shaft of light escaped, stretching across the well-kept lawn and briefly illuminating a crescent-shaped flower bed, a pot of geraniums and a garden hose that hadn’t been put away.

The dog appeared first, a German shepherd that practically exploded from the confines of the house. It turned a few circles and then attacked the hose. Seconds later, a person emerged. Blue jeans. White T-shirt. A glint of auburn hair.

“Come on, Colin.”

The husky words were clearly audible from where he stood in the shadows.

He was going to strangle the chief. Finn Kelly was a woman. When John had gotten an urgent message from Seamus the day before about a family emergency, he had pressed into service an acquaintance who had two things—a private plane and an old girlfriend he wanted to look up—which had taken John from a hotel in Denver to Seamus’s house in Miranda Station, Wisconsin. He’d assumed that Finn was one of the chief’s many grandsons, and for some reason—which John didn’t want to examine too closely—Seamus had failed to mention the family emergency was female. Only the tenuous thread of their past friendship had prevented John from leaving Miranda Station the minute he’d spotted Finn Kelly. When Seamus answered the door the next morning, John said the first words that summed up his feelings.

“Are you crazy?”

“Hello, John. It’s good to see you again, too.” Seamus smiled.

“Absolutely not.”

“You saw Finn. I should have known you’d do your homework. When did you get into town?”

“You conveniently forgot to tell me that your family emergency was a woman. You just wasted your time.”

“Fiona is my granddaughter, not just a woman. Would you like a glass of iced tea? Or maybe some coffee?”

“No, thank you,” John growled. “I can’t take time off from work to baby-sit some rookie cop.”

“I talked to your boss yesterday,” Seamus said. “He mentioned you haven’t taken time off in about five years. I’d say you deserve a vacation.”

John glared at him. “No.”

Seamus lost some of his calm. “You are the only one I trust, John. Something is going on at the department. Maybe it has something to do with the fact she’s the first female patrol officer. She won’t talk about what’s happening…she’s distracted. I’m worried about her.”

“Maybe she’s one Kelly who isn’t cut out for a career in law enforcement,” John said. “It could be she’s bringing this on herself—”

“You meet her and decide,” Seamus interrupted. “But I know my granddaughter.”

“Just out of curiosity, how are you going to explain why I’m here?”

Seamus’s eyes brightened. “You’re an old friend, why wouldn’t you come for a visit? And I happened to talk to Chief Larson at the P.D. He jumped at the chance to have you give his men some training on the latest techniques for handling Internet crimes.”

John shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket. “I’m not saying yes,” he warned.

“Just say yes to dinner tonight,” Seamus said. “Anne is making pot roast.”

Fiona Kelly decided to walk home after work. She had half an hour before her grandparents expected her for dinner and she needed to clear her thoughts. Chief, as her grandfather was affectionately known even to members of his family, and her grandmother, Anne, invited her over for dinner at least twice a week.

After she had been hired by the police department in Miranda Station, she’d moved into a small house tucked in a grove of maples just beyond her grandparents’ two-story brick home. It was tiny, made of fieldstone and wood, and had once been a guest house for the larger estate. As she got closer, she could hear Colin bark a greeting. Her spirits lifted slightly and she walked faster. His face appeared in the window, tongue lolling. The curtains moved vigorously, propelled by his wagging tail. She barely had the key in the lock and he was whining at the door.

“Colin, back!” She jumped to the side as he burst out.

Ignoring her, he ran around the yard and then veered back to attack the garden hose again.

“Colin, no!” She couldn’t help it. She started laughing. “Leave the poor hose alone. It’s dead. If you’d done that to those silly dummies at training camp, you wouldn’t be out of a job,” she scolded.

He blinked at her and trotted over, pushing his wedge-shaped face into her hand.

“Guilty conscience, hmm?” She rubbed his ear. “If you behave yourself you can come with me.”

Shedding the uniform and the bullet-proof vest she wore for her shift was a welcome relief, and she changed into a white sundress sprinkled with blue flowers and pale green ivy. Stepping into a pair of leather sandals, she called Colin to her side and they headed over to the house.

As she walked into her grandparents’ home through the open patio doors, she heard masculine voices. One belonged to Seamus, the other she didn’t recognize. Her heart dropped suddenly and she pursed her lips. The previous month a man from the fire department had “unexpectedly” shown up right before dinner. As a teen, she had started praying for the man that God would someday bring into her life—the man she would eventually marry. It was difficult to explain to Seamus that the Lord didn’t need any help from a matchmaking grandfather!

“Hi, Chief.”

“Finn!”

As Seamus rose from the chair, Finn winced at the stiffness in his movements. At seventy-five, her grandfather was finally beginning to show signs of his age.

“I see you brought that failure from the academy with you,” he teased.

“He may have failed at the academy but he’s succeeding as a pet.” She reached up and kissed her grandfather’s weathered cheek. “You’ll hurt his feelings if you keep talking like that.”

“Well, John, come and meet my granddaughter, Fiona, champion of the underdog.”

The man who had been sitting with his back to her suddenly rose to his feet. Seamus’s words dissolved in Finn’s ears as she looked at the stranger in front of her. She was caught and held captive by two jewel-green eyes.

“Finn, this is John Gabriel.”

The words pieced themselves together again, and Finn instinctively put out her hand, a gesture of politeness that the man ignored. Still trapped in his gaze, she frowned slightly.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Fiona,” he said formally.

Finn’s hand remained empty and she glanced down. John Gabriel’s arm was missing from the elbow down.

John watched the momentary confusion on her face but wasn’t inclined to help her out. Then she astounded him by smiling.

“John Gabriel. You saved Chief’s life, didn’t you? You’re practically family, then, and family members get hugs, not handshakes.”

Before John could react, she stepped forward and embraced him easily. Over the top of her head, he saw Seamus grin. He stiffened, but she had already let go of him, leaving a light, flowery fragrance behind.

“And call me Finn. Everyone does.”

“Finn, I thought I heard your voice. Snuck in through the patio, did you?” Anne Kelly appeared in the doorway. “Hi, Colin. Good dog.” Colin thumped his tail in appreciation and Seamus snorted. “Supper is ready.”

They filed into the dining room, the room that Anne Kelly saved for company, but there was nothing stuffy about the decor. The floors were hardwood that had mellowed over time and the curtains were a breezy muslin that welcomed the sunshine. The table was set for four.

John was still in shock from his introduction to Finn Kelly. The moonlight hadn’t done her justice. Medium height and slender, she had delicate features framed by the pale auburn hair that had been passed down from the original Kellys. This young woman was a police officer? She looked like she wasn’t old enough to hold a driver’s license!

“Will you say grace, Finn?” Anne asked.

Finn nodded and glanced at him. Her eyes were gray, ringed with indigo. The room suddenly felt very small. And he didn’t even hear her prayer.

The following hour was spent in pleasant, but meaningless, conversation. Finn noticed that both Chief and John Gabriel carefully avoided bringing up old memories. She had been only thirteen years old when the accident happened. She vividly recalled visiting her grandfather in the hospital and hearing her family whisper about the young police officer who had used his body to shield Chief from the explosion. Her grandpa was all right, that was all that mattered in her way of thinking, but she knew that John Gabriel was a hero. She had heard his name mentioned occasionally over the years and knew that he and Chief still kept in touch, but she hadn’t realized the extent of his sacrifice until now.

“What do you do, John?” Finn asked during a lull in the conversation. She felt the force of his gaze once again and it was unsettling. She had had a chance to covertly study him during dinner and decided he was an attractive man. A faint burn scar that ran from temple to chin didn’t detract from the strong, clean lines of his face. His hair, the color of coffee with a splash of cream, touched the collar of his black polo shirt.

“I work for a private agency that investigates crime,” he answered evenly.

Finn was silent for a moment, a nagging suspicion beginning to form. “What’s the name of the agency?”

“I doubt you are familiar with it, Finn.”

“Try me.” She smiled sweetly.

“The Madison Agency.”

Finn recognized the name immediately. “Another group of untouchables, right? The agency that solves crimes that are considered unsolvable. Wasn’t it Madison that found that little girl who was kidnapped and taken to Pakistan last year?”

Seamus laughed, although it sounded a trifle forced. “My goodness, lass. Not too many people know about the Madison Agency.”

“I read a lot,” Finn said, winking at him. “Here, Gran, let me help you clear the table.”

“Well,” Seamus said earnestly, leaning forward after the women had gone into the other room, “just hang around here a little while and keep an eye on her. Tell me if all this is the product of an old man’s imagination.”

John closed his eyes. What he saw in Finn Kelly was a woman who was too fragile for police work and didn’t want to admit it. Maybe there was some kind of discrimination going on among a few of the men who couldn’t stomach a female officer, but he doubted it was anything truly sinister.

“Chief.” The title slipped out easily. “Don’t you think that maybe—”

“Excuse me.” Anne poked her head around the corner. “Seamus, Cory is on the phone. Shall I tell him you’ll call him back?”

“Go ahead.” John sighed, not wanting to deny Seamus a call from his son. “I won’t run out the back door while you’re gone.”

“See that you don’t,” Seamus muttered.

John had been alone for all of one minute when Finn came back into the room. How many women actually wore dresses for no occasion at all? He turned away and stared out the window.

“Mr. Gabriel? John—I know why you’re here.”

Startled, he swung around and discovered she was inches away from him. “You do?”

Finn glanced at the door. “You found out about Chief’s heart problems, didn’t you.”

“His heart problems?” John repeated slowly.

“He’s had two minor attacks in the past six months,” Finn murmured. “He doesn’t like to complain, but I know he’s in pain. Your visit will do him good. How long are you going to stay?”

John couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth. “Probably just a week or so.”

Chapter Two

Finn got up early the next morning to go for a run before her shift started. Colin lifted his head and whined.

“I know it’s early, but if I have to stay in shape, so do you.” She turned on her CD player and hummed along with her favorite praise-and-worship band as the music pulsed through the house while she got dressed.

Dew brightened the grass and already the sun was warm with the promise of a beautiful day. She did some quick warm-up exercises on the porch and then broke into an easy run, with Colin loping along beside her.

Her grandparents’ house was quiet, and she glanced up at the window of one of the rooms Anne reserved for company. The shade was still drawn. John Gabriel. Her heart gave a funny dip just at the thought of him and it surprised her so much that she stumbled. Grinning, she saw Colin looking up at her.

“Crack in the sidewalk.” She laughed.

The man was a mystery. He must have been close to her age when the explosion cost him his arm and his career as an officer. Now he worked with the Madison Agency. She had never met anyone affiliated with it before. Its headquarters were in Chicago, where part of the Kelly family had settled in the 1920s. The agency was low-key, the average person wouldn’t even be aware it existed, yet it had a reputation for excellence in cutting-edge investigative techniques. Some said it was a wild card—a maverick agency that walked on the edge of the law to solve crimes. Somehow she sensed that Madison and John Gabriel were a good fit.

As she jogged around the side of the house, Finn saw the man she had just been thinking about, standing on her porch.

“Good morning, John.” She slowed down and walked the few yards that separated them, hooking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She tried to ignore the strange fluttering in her stomach at the sight of him.

“Finn.” He leaned down and scratched a spot behind Colin’s ear. “Anne sent me over to tell you she baked cinnamon rolls this morning.”

“I have to be at work in an hour but I suppose I can make time for that,” Finn said. Her heart was still pounding, but now she wasn’t sure if it was from her run.

“I’ll tell her,” said John.

Finn disappeared into the house, and John watched Colin rolling in the grass.

“Sit!”

Colin leaped to his feet, then sat down and looked at him questioningly.

John smiled. “So, you haven’t forgotten all of your training, have you, boy.” He knelt beside the dog and glanced toward the house to make sure Finn wasn’t in view. “Well, we’re going to start working together.” He pulled a piece of cinnamon roll out of his pocket and fed it to the shepherd. “Just don’t tell your commanding officer, okay?”

Anne had been bustling around the kitchen, and as soon as John told her that Finn was coming over, she poured another cup of coffee and brought it to the patio.

“Good morning.”

At the sound of the smoky voice, John looked up and almost groaned. Finn was wearing a light-blue uniform, but instead of looking like a figure of authority, she resembled a high school kid dressed up for career day. Her hair was neatly braided and pinned up in the back. She probably thought it looked more professional, but all it did was enhance the delicate planes of her face—the luminous gray eyes and smattering of freckles across her nose. No wonder some of the officers might be having a difficult time accepting her as an equal.

“Good morning.” Seamus smiled at her affectionately. “You got your run in this morning?”

“Most of it.” Finn took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes briefly in appreciation. “Mmm. This hits the spot. I’ve got to watch for Carl. He’s picking me up in about twenty minutes.”

John didn’t think she sounded like someone who dreaded going to work. She seemed relaxed. Maybe the change in mood that Seamus detected was her concern about his health, and nothing related to her job at all.

“Are you free for supper tonight, Finn?” Anne asked.

John felt Finn’s eyes on him. “No, I think I’ll go to the range after work this afternoon. Do you want to come along?” She directed the question at him.

“Finn.” Anne frowned at her, but Finn didn’t acknowledge the warning.

“Were you right-or left-handed before the accident?”

“Right.” He knew his voice sounded tight. What did she think she was doing?

“I’m assuming as a Madison agent that you still shoot.”

“Yes.”

“I’m probably better than you.” Finn grinned mischievously. “Want to find out?”

“Fiona Isobeale Kelly!” Seamus blustered, but John held up his hand.

“It’s all right, Chief. What man can resist a challenge like that?”

“I’m done at three,” Finn said. “I’m sure you can use Chief’s gun if you didn’t bring yours along. Otherwise I have an extra.” A car horn sounded from outside. “Carl’s here. I’ll see you all later.” She filched another cinnamon roll and slipped out the door.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Anne forced a smile. “I’ve got some laundry to get on the line. Help yourselves to more coffee if you’d like.”

“Seamus, did you get Finn the job here?” John asked bluntly when they were alone.

“She scored highest on the civil service test and passed every requirement they had,” Seamus said.

“That’s not what I asked, but thank you for answering the question anyway.” John stood up and walked to the window. The squad car was pulling away. “She looks about sixteen, Chief. Did you think that securing a job for her at a department that’s got any anti-female sentiment was a good idea?”

“You know as well as I do that being a good cop starts here.” Seamus thumped his chest. “She’s bright and has integrity and compassion.”

“Then she should have joined the Girl Scouts,” John shot back.

“Finn got the job on her own merit,” Seamus insisted. “All I did was talk to Chief Larson when she applied for the job. He said that he’d put in a good word for her with the Police and Fire Commission. There’s been some pressure to start hiring female officers.” Seamus saw the doubt on the younger man’s face. “She can do this, John. Everything seemed fine when she started at the department. Then, about two months ago, things changed. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just a hunch, but something’s going on. She won’t confide in me or Anne.” He looked like the admission stung.

“So maybe she can do the job—but does she want to?” John asked. “That’s the million-dollar question.”

“There was another fire last night,” Carl Davis told Finn on the way to the department.

“Where was it this time?”

“Just a shed behind the hardware store.” Carl adjusted the rearview mirror. “Someone reported it before it did too much damage.”

Finn shook her head. “That makes two this month. The first one was in a Dumpster. Now it’s a building?”

“School’s out and kids are bored.”

“When I was bored I went swimming or played basketball,” Finn said.

“Yeah, well, you probably had a pool.”

“Just a small one.”

She liked Carl. He was in his early forties, with almost twenty years of experience on patrol. He’d begun as her training officer and still kept a close eye on her. Early on, he had told her she could confide in him if she had any trouble being accepted by the rest of the officers. She had gotten to know his wife, Sherilynn, and had taken them up on several of their dinner invitations since she’d been hired.

They walked into the department and the dispatcher, Gil Patterson, shook his finger at her. “There you are, Kelly!”

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? You had court a half an hour ago, that’s what’s wrong.” Gil rolled his eyes.

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“I put the notice in your box last week myself,” Gil said defensively. “It was Lessing. They had to let him go because you weren’t there as the arresting officer to testify.”

Finn felt sick. Lessing. “I didn’t get the notice.”

“Chief wants to see you.” Gil wouldn’t look at her now. “He’s in his office.”

Finn had arrested Jerome Lessing for domestic abuse the week before, after a neighbor called to report sounds of a woman screaming. She had witnessed firsthand the bruises on Bonnie Lessing’s face and arms when she’d arrived at the scene. And now the abuser had walked away without so much as a slap on the wrist.

Chief Larson was sipping coffee when Finn stepped into his office.

“Kelly.” He indicated the chair on the opposite side of the mammoth oak desk. “Have a seat.” He put down his cup. “Lessing’s at Marie’s Café this morning eating their dollar-ninety-nine breakfast special—one egg, scrambled, toast with jelly and home fries. Must not care about his cholesterol level.”

“I didn’t get the notice.”

“I already talked to Gil. He remembers putting it in your box,” Chief Larson said.

“Someone took it out.” There, she’d said it.

Larson stared at her in disbelief. “Someone took it?” he repeated. “You mean deliberately? Are you saying there is some sort of…plot…against you?”

“Not a plot,” Finn said in frustration. “It’s just that little things have been happening lately.”

“It doesn’t wash, Kelly. You started out fine. The other officers have accepted you.” He looked disappointed. “I can’t let you blame your negligence on someone else. Has anyone in this department said they don’t want you here? Discriminated against you?”

“No.”

“You’ve got two months left on your probation,” Larson said gruffly. “Let’s see some focus, Finn.”

“Yes, sir.”

She walked out of the office and found Carl waiting for her.

“How did it go?”

“He gave me a promotion,” Finn said, but the joke fell flat.

“Seriously.”

“Seriously? I’m in serious danger of losing my job if I don’t focus.”

Carl frowned. “I’ll talk to the chief.”

“No, please don’t, Carl. I can do this.”

“Here, you can start with some follow-ups, then.” He grinned and pushed a stack of paperwork into her hands.

The well-kept, petunia-studded city of Miranda Station boasted a population of ten thousand people, but Finn definitely earned her salary during the day. By the time she came off her shift, she was tired. The next officer on duty dropped her off at home and she walked up the sidewalk, looking forward to having a cool shower and a change of clothes. She remembered that she had asked John Gabriel to go to the range with her. Well, maybe asked wasn’t the right word. She had challenged him. And he hadn’t disappointed her.

She peeled off her uniform shirt and bullet-proof vest and immediately felt ten pounds lighter. The shower revived her body but not her spirits. Finn knew she hadn’t gotten a court notice in her box. Was Gil the person who was against her working there? Dispatch handled all the reports, and he had complained several times that hers weren’t accurate when he checked her numbers against the computer.

She had just changed into blue jeans and a T-shirt when she heard a knock. Her hair was still damp from the shower and she fluffed it with her fingers as she went to answer the door.

“Come in.” Finn stepped back as John’s tall frame filled the narrow foyer. “I’ll be right back.”

John felt like he was in a doll’s house. Or a storybook cottage. Everything around him was bright and feminine. Not frilly. Feminine. The love seat and chairs in the living room were covered in a white-and-blue print and a rolltop writing desk stacked with books took up an entire wall. The hardwood floors were scattered with bright rag rugs, and an oval-shaped breakfast nook held a small oak table scattered with more books. Along the top of the cupboards was a variety of ceramic teapots. Even though she had only been home from work for half an hour, a candle was burning on a small table by the window.

He walked over to blow out the candle and saw an open Bible next to it. It obviously wasn’t a decoration. Some of the verses had been highlighted with a fluorescent pen and bookmarks stuck out everywhere.

Finn emerged from a room down the hall and caught him studying it.

“Part of the Kelly family legacy? A badge and a Bible?”

“No.” She held his gaze. “But it will be.”

Chapter Three

“Some people use both of them to hide behind,” John said, watching her expression to gauge her reaction.

“Some people know the difference between finding shelter and hiding. Do you?” Finn tossed something at him and instinctively he reached out and caught it. A key ring. “You can drive.”

They walked in silence to the garage, where two cars were parked side by side. One was a dark-blue import, compact and conservative. The other, a hunter-green Jeep Cherokee. Automatically he walked over to the import—and heard Finn chuckle.

“That’s Chief’s car.”

He raised his eyebrows and regarded her thoughtfully. “My mistake.”

Finn slid into the passenger side of the vehicle and waited. Just as she suspected, John was at home behind the wheel of a car. He turned the key and immediately they were drowned in music as the radio came to life.

Finn nudged the volume button down. “Sorry.”

“A Jeep and loud music,” John muttered. “Are you sure you’re not sixteen?”

She didn’t take offense. “The Jeep was a graduation present from my parents when I got my Criminal Justice degree last year. And the music, well, some things you just never outgrow.”

“Right.” John eased the Jeep out of the driveway. “Where do I go?”

“That way.” Finn pointed left. “The range is about three miles from here.” Finn leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling the tension from the day start to uncurl inside of her.

“Long day?”

She didn’t answer right away. The court notice…

“Well, there was that dog I had to chase for three blocks and the little old lady who wouldn’t let me help her cross the street. Other than that—” Her voice broke off and her eyes snapped open because she heard a strange sound. John Gabriel was laughing. Granted, it sounded a little rusty, but it was laughter.

“The hazards of the job.” He turned a smile on her that transformed his austere features and turned her insides into jelly.

Finn swallowed. “You should do that more often.”

“What?”

“Smile. Laugh. You know—try a variety of facial expressions.”

“Very funny.” John turned his attention back to the road. “Where do we turn?”

“Back there about a quarter of a mile.” She realized that they had passed the road. It was his fault for laughing and causing her to forget her navigational responsibilities.

He turned the Jeep around and headed back. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Two or three times a week,” Finn said absently.

“Is that required by your department?”

“No. We come out as a department about every six months. Dad says I should practice more than that. Most officers never fire their weapons, but you need to be accurate if you ever have to.”

The range was an open field with oak trees bordering the perimeter like silent sentinels. No one was there, and Finn was glad. Now that she had bullied John Gabriel into this, she was having doubts.

“Okay, Annie Oakley.” His voice was so near it startled her. “You first.”

He set up the targets while Finn pushed the clip into her handgun and put on ear protection to muffle the sound.

John watched as Finn stepped up to the line. Everything about her stance and posture was correct. Correct but wooden. For someone who came to the range two or three times a week, she seemed almost uncomfortable with a gun in her hand. The first few shots were close to the center. Then, something happened. Her concentration dissolved. The next few shots were way off. When she finished, her hand fell to her side and her head dipped slightly.

“Hey, where did you go?” he asked sharply, watching as Finn’s head snapped up again and she smiled sheepishly.

“Daydreaming, I guess.”

“Daydreaming?” He repeated the word in disbelief. “If that target decided to shoot back, I’d be picking you up off the grass.”

“Your turn.” Finn stepped back and looked away from him. She couldn’t explain what had just happened, other than the fact that Jerome Lessing’s face had suddenly loomed in her thoughts. He was free and it was her fault. Or was it?

Gunfire brought her back to reality, and she watched as John pounded six bullets directly into the center of the target.

John glanced at her, expecting to see amazement or disbelief or any of the other expressions that people had when a one-armed man actually achieved something. Instead, she was looking at him proudly. Knowingly. The admiration on her face shook him to the core, momentarily shattering the wall he had so painstakingly built over the years. Then he knew. When she had invited him to come to the range—when she had casually tossed her car keys to him—she was telling him she saw a man. Not a one-armed man. Not a man with a scar that disfigured part of his face, and had, as some people assumed, seared his brain in the process. But a man.

No one had given him a gift like that in years. No one except his colleagues at the Madison Agency, who had stopped treating him with kid gloves just a few months after he started working there. It hadn’t taken Finn that long. They had known each other less than twenty-four hours.

He wondered why he found the discovery so unsettling.

“Do you mind living so close to your grandparents?” John asked later as they headed back to the city limits. Now she was behind the wheel, which gave John a chance to study her. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was some emotion still lingering in her eyes that he’d noticed when they’d been at the range.

“No.” Finn shook her head. “When I got hired here, they wanted me to live with them, but I talked Gran into letting me fix up the stone house. I lived with my folks the whole time I went to college and I wanted a little space. They understood, and I don’t mind living in their backyard. Especially now that Chief is having some health problems.”

“I was surprised to see they had such a huge house to take care of.” John remembered his first glimpse of the sprawling two-story brick home as the taxi delivered him the night he arrived.

“When Chief retired, he and Gran handpicked Miranda Station. They were tired of city living and wanted a place that everyone could come home to. It’s still close enough to Chicago for impromptu family get-togethers. That’s why he had the pool put in, too, for all my relatives to enjoy when they come for a visit. I don’t think Chief has ever put his big toe in the water.”

The stately brick home they were discussing came into view and Finn eased the car into the garage. There was a vacant spot where the other car had been parked earlier.

“Looks like they went out,” Finn said.

“Your powers of observation are amazing, Officer Kelly,” John murmured.

She looked at him in mock surprise. “A sense of humor, Agent Gabriel? Be careful, I may think you are human.”

A strange expression suddenly came over his face, igniting some unidentified emotion in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m human, Finn,” he said quietly.

Finn tried to smile but found she couldn’t. A shiver of awareness rippled through her. She could hear Colin barking in the background, but everything else around her had gotten fuzzy. What’s happening here, Lord? Is John someone You’ve brought into my life for a reason…or am I supposed to run as fast as I can in the other direction?

“I think this is the night Chief and Gran play Scrabble with the Silvermans. I was thinking about grilling some burgers.” She offered the invitation as quickly as it popped into her mind. “Are you hungry?”

John hesitated. He reminded himself that he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to get involved with Finn Kelly on any level, but he had made a promise to Seamus.

“Never mind.” She quickly picked up on his reluctance. “I just thought…”

The evening sun filtered through the trees and caught the fire in her hair as she pushed it away from her face in the unconscious gesture he was becoming familiar with. Remembering her lack of concentration at the range, he decided to push a little deeper to see if he could discover what was bothering her. Most likely she had been thinking about a boyfriend. Still, the way she seemed to disappear for a few minutes there worried him. A cop couldn’t afford to do that on duty. The stakes were too high.

“Sure. A burger sounds great.”

Her easy smile surfaced again, with no sign that she was aware of the tension that had just crackled around them minutes before. He didn’t even want to go there. The connection he felt with her was undeniable and unexpected. And unwelcome. In the first place, he was ten years older than Finn in age and one hundred years older than her in experience. Keep telling yourself that, Gabriel. He followed her into the house.

“What do you want to do?” she asked him.

“Let’s say I’m better at the outdoor range than at the indoor kind,” he admitted.

Finn studied him thoughtfully. “I’ll bet it’s hard to butter bread.”

Was she always this refreshingly honest? “I eat out a lot.”

“You can flip the burgers, then.”

“Can’t I just watch television while you make supper?”

“Very funny.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Am I laughing?”

“No, I think you fulfilled your quota of laughter already. Once a day?”

He had to actually try not to smile. She handed him a metal spatula, rummaged into the refrigerator for the pre-shaped hamburger patties and tucked a canister of seasoning salt under her elbow. “The grill is out the back door.”

The back of Finn’s house was a surprise. A flagstone patio fanned out in a V-shape, bordered by tall, colorful flowers and terra-cotta pots lined up on an old, weathered bench. The pots were home to a variety of vegetable plants. A faded quilt was folded neatly on a wicker chair and a grapevine wreath decorated an antique light pole.

Within minutes, she had the grill started.

“I’ll be right back.” Finn disappeared into the house and returned a few moments later with two glasses of iced tea.

“Thanks.” He started to take a drink and paused. “There’s something floating in it.”

“It’s a violet.” She inspected the coals and frowned.

“You want me to drink a flower?”

“Not necessarily. But it won’t hurt you if you do. Violets are edible,” she explained patiently. “I put them in the tea because they’re…”

“Go on. This is fascinating.”

He had that detached, intimidating look on his face again, and Finn suddenly balked at telling him why she had dropped two violets into his iced tea. It had been done out of habit and now she was backed into a corner, having to explain.

“Pretty.” She busied herself by salting the meat.

“Pretty.” He repeated the word as if he’d never heard it before.

“Yes, pretty.” She straightened and suddenly wished she hadn’t done it in the first place. “Because they look pretty in the iced tea. Don’t you think so?”

He studied the glass again, and she finally clucked her tongue.

“John, it’s not a piece of evidence, it’s a glass of iced tea. Just drink it.”

He did, so cautiously that she had to chuckle, her initial defensiveness melting away.

John glanced at her and was relieved. If she was angry with him, it would be more difficult to find out if anything was going on at the Miranda Station P.D. He figured the sooner he found out what was wrong, the quicker he could get back to the Madison Agency and bury himself in the latest investigation he was working on. Seamus had been right about his not taking vacation time. He didn’t want time to relax or be idle. That gave him too much time to think about things better left alone.

Finn set plates on the small bistro-style table by the grill and put the food out. “Do you mind if I pray?”

John shook his head and waited to see if he recognized the table prayer, so he could stumble along.

“Lord, thank You for this day. For the things You’ve allowed in our lives—the challenges and the joys. Thank You for John and his willingness to take time from his busy schedule to spend some time with Chief…and thank You for the food you’ve provided. Amen.”

For a split second, he was frozen in place as her prayer sunk in. For the things You’ve allowed in our lives.

There’d been more challenges than joy in his life and he’d never stopped to consider that maybe God was there during both. Well, if He had been there, He’d been standing on the sidelines watching. Distant and unavailable.

Chapter Four

When John walked into the chief’s house after supper with Finn, the telephone was ringing.

“Kelly residence,” he said.

There was a slight pause. “John?”

“Neil?”

“It is you!” The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “It took a while for Bradel to tell me where you were. He said some dirty word like vacation, but I figured it must be some kind of cover.”

“I’m visiting a friend for a few days.”

“Business or pleasure?” Neil Avery’s voice was full of curiosity, and John sighed.

“Business of sorts,” he admitted. “Did Bradel give you this number?”

“Only after being offered a bribe of two dozen homemade chocolate chip cookies,” Neil said. “He drives a hard bargain.”

There was a click and some static, then a third voice joined in.

“Neil? Is that John? Oh, you found him!”

“Hello, Diane.”

“Hello, yourself. I’ve been worried sick about you, taking off like that without telling anyone.”

“You sound like a mother hen. I told my boss I was leaving. I didn’t realize I had to check in with the rest of the crew.”

“Well, you do,” Diane Avery sniffed.

“John isn’t on vacation,” Neil said. “It sounds like business as usual.”

“Is she pretty?” Diane responded teasingly.

“Actually, yes.” John couldn’t resist.

Silence reigned for a moment, then both Neil and Diane started talking at once. John winced and held the phone away from his ear.

“Tell us everything,” Diane demanded.

“Not a chance.”

“Just one thing,” Diane begged.

“You’d like her,” John said slowly, knowing that Diane wasn’t going to let him off the hook easily.

There was a sudden gasp of understanding. “She’s a believer, isn’t she.”

“Let’s say you seem to have some common ground,” John said. “Now, don’t you have some cookies to bake, you traitor?”

“Yes, I do,” she said cheerfully, then added, in a stage whisper, “Find out more, Neil!” A click sounded as she hung up.

“Your wife never gives up.”

“She should have been the investigator,” Neil agreed. “When are you coming back?”

“I’m not sure,” John said. “I didn’t give Bradel a specific date. I have some time off and I’ll come back when everything here is taken care of.”

“Diane’s almost due, you know,” Neil reminded him. “She wants your face pressed against the glass in the maternity ward, cooing with the rest of the Avery fan club.”

“I’ll be back by then.” John heard the sound of a car door slam, signaling Chief’s and Anne’s return. “I’ll call you soon.”

“John?” Neil caught him just as he was about to put the receiver down.

“What?”

“Is she a believer?”

“Goodbye, Neil.”

Later that night during her run, Finn took advantage of the quiet streets and let Colin off his leash. He trotted happily along beside her.

“What’s with you lately?” She couldn’t explain the dog’s sudden obedience. It was as if he’d grown up overnight. “Did someone slip something into your food?”

As she ran, Finn replayed the evening with John. She was surprised that he had accepted her offer to join her for supper. You read too many books when you were a kid, she scolded herself. All those stories about Sir Lancelot and knights and heroes. When she was thirteen and Seamus had been injured in the explosion, she’d been reading about the Middle Ages. Secretly, she had thought of John Gabriel as “the white knight” because of his heroism.

“He’s more like the black knight,” she murmured out loud. He had built a fortress around himself. It was easy to discern that cynicism was his sword, bitterness his shield. Maybe the accident had caused him to put up the barriers she saw.

“I can’t figure him out, Colin.”

Colin growled.

The sound was so unexpected that she stumbled to a stop.

“Hey,” a voice drawled from the bushes. “It’s that lady cop.”

“She ain’t on duty now, though.”

There were some snickers and muttered comments. Finn decided to keep going and ignore them—until the two young men stepped out of the shadows and blocked her path. One held a cigarette loosely in his hand. She recognized him immediately. Ricky Calhoun. His dad owned the largest construction company in Miranda Station. Ricky was a few years younger than she, but he worked for his dad only when he needed extra cash, which wasn’t often. He drove his dad’s car and generally hung around town doing nothing. He seemed to be making a career out of being the only son of a wealthy businessman.

“Hello, Ricky,” Finn said evenly.

His companion thumped him on the back and laughed. “She knows your name, Ricky! Have you ridden in the back of the squad car or something?”

Ricky grinned and flicked the cigarette into the street, the end still glowing like a single red eye. “I’m a good boy, Marty.”

“Excuse me.” Finn tried to move past them, but Ricky stepped in front of her again.

Colin suddenly slipped alongside them like a shadow and planted himself next to Finn. She reached down, feeling comforted by his presence. “Stay, Colin,” she said, hoping the dog would actually listen to her.

Ricky glanced down at the shepherd, whose lips had curled back to expose a set of intimidating teeth. He took a wary step away from her.

“See you later, Officer.”

Finn nodded briefly and started to run again, aware of the fact they were watching her. Marty apparently found something else amusing, because his laughter echoed down the street behind her.

“You must be a good judge of character, Colin,” she said. “And by the way, thanks for your support.”

Colin dashed into a row of bushes and emerged half a block away. When she whistled, he ignored her.

“At least your timing is good.” She shook her head.

A half an hour later, she jogged back up her grandparents’ driveway. All the lights were out except for the guestroom upstairs.

She had been so tempted to confide in John about her problems at the department. The small changes in her reports, the missing court notice. Would he accuse her of not concentrating? Of not being able to handle the job? She had no proof that someone was undermining her work.

Lord, You see what’s going on…show me what to do.

She got ready for bed and curled up in her favorite chair with her Bible.

I love thee, O Lord, my strength.

The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised, And I am saved from my enemies.

The words sunk deep and spread like a balm through her, loosening the cords of frustration and giving her strength. David had been a soldier. She felt a common bond with him. He had been called at a young age to stand against evil. He knew what is was like to be pursued. To be afraid.

You were his refuge. His shield. And You are mine, too.

Finn wrote a few paragraphs in her journal and then began lifting her family and friends up in prayer. Looking out the window, she could see the light still glowing in John’s room and she prayed for him, too.

The next morning, John was waiting for her by the garage. She tried not to notice that he looked incredible in casual gray chinos and a green-and-gray checked cotton shirt. In his hand was an official-looking leather briefcase.

“Good morning.”

“Finn.”

“Did you know that Chief Larson made it mandatory for everyone to attend your training session this morning?” Finn asked. “Just so you understand why the guys who’d normally be off duty today are glaring at you.”

John slipped into the passenger side of her Jeep. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Do I get a preview of today’s lesson, Agent Gabriel?” She flipped the visor down out of habit and checked her hair, pulled out a tube of her favorite lipstick and then saw the look on John’s face. “What?”

“You’re primping,” he said in disbelief.

“But never while I’m driving.” She flashed him a saucy grin.

That remark was rewarded with one of John’s reluctant smiles.

“I’m going to give a mini-seminar on Internet crime,” he said. “Computers are like anything else—they can be a weapon in the wrong hands. Law enforcement has to keep up with the changing technology or the criminals have an advantage.”

Finn glanced at him. “Is this your area?”

“One of them,” John admitted.

“Your favorite?”

He shrugged, but she had seen the spark flare in his eyes. The spark of passion for an area of his chosen career.

“What’s yours?” he asked. “Besides trying to get little old ladies safely across the busy streets of Miranda Station?”

How to answer that unexpected question… Finn turned the car into the parking lot of the police station. “I guess I haven’t been an officer long enough to find out.”

She wasn’t about to tell John that there were too many days that her job was frustrating. She was only a small cog in the wheel of law enforcement. If she made an arrest, it went to the DA, who determined whether there was enough evidence to prosecute. If she made a referral to Social Services, then a case worker took over and made a determination. Too many times she felt as if she were wearing her own handcuffs. It was one of the unexpected struggles she’d faced since becoming a police officer. One she hadn’t voiced to anyone but God.

They got out of the car and walked toward the station. John suddenly paused just outside the doors.

“I’ve got to make a phone call. You can go in without me.”

“All right.” Finn wondered about the quicksilver change in his mood. She had the feeling that John didn’t make it a habit to share much of himself, but for a brief moment during their conversation in the car, it felt as if they’d had a connection.

Then again, maybe she’d only imagined it.

John waited until she had disappeared inside, pulled out his cell phone and called time-and-temperature, then walked in alone. He didn’t want any of the guys Finn worked with to see them come in together. He couldn’t let anyone think he and Finn were friends if he was going to try to get a handle on what was going on with her at the P.D.

The small conference room had been set up for his presentation, and Finn was right—the looks he got when he walked in told him exactly what some of them thought about being called in on their day off.

Finn was already sitting in the front of the room, an empty chair on either side of her. The rest of them were filled. After that one brief glance, John didn’t look at her again.

He spent two hours updating them on the latest ways to use computers to catch criminals and another hour answering their questions. After the first fifteen minutes of his talk, there was a change in the room. Even the most disgruntled officer was leaning forward, listening intently. John judged his presentation a success by that one officer. Carl Davis. Davis also asked the most questions. When Finn asked a question, however, he noticed two of the officers behind her look at each other. One of them rolled his eyes and the other, Wes Garrett, smirked. It was an intelligent question, showing that Finn had been paying attention, but he couldn’t show his approval.

Still, the temptation to make the guys eat their ASP batons was great.

The officers drifted away when the session was over, and Finn approached him while he was packing up his materials.

“Thank you. Your presentation was great.”

He shrugged off her praise. “Part of the job. And now I owe Seamus one less favor.”

“He never worked here, but you’d think he’d run the department at one time,” Finn said. “He and Chief Larson are golfing buddies.”

Another interesting tidbit of information that might explain why Finn was hired, John thought. He slowed his movements, waiting for the room to clear.

“Go ahead and take my car home,” Finn said. “I’ll get dropped off at the end of my shift anyway.” She handed him her keys.

“Thanks.”

Mike Alloway appeared in the doorway. “Kelly, I need you to mail some evidence to the crime lab. Think you can find your way to the post office?”

“No problem.” Finn smiled sweetly.

“Great presentation, Agent Gabriel,” Mike said. “Chief Larson was hoping we could set up another one with you.”

“I should be able to do that.” John read the officer’s name on the silver tag under his badge and remembered it. It had sounded like he’d been teasing Finn with his question about the post office, but it was hard to tell.

So, some of the guys obviously didn’t accept Finn as an equal. That was clear enough. But was she so thin-skinned that it would take such an obvious toll on her? One that had caused Seamus to get him involved?

Chapter Five

The telephone rang, waking Finn up from a sound sleep. She fumbled for it in the dark, her gaze already focusing on her grandparents’ house. The last time she had gotten a phone call in the middle of the night, Seamus had had another heart attack.

“Hello?”

“Finn, it’s Donna at the P.D. There’s another fire and they need some extra people on.”

Finn closed her eyes in relief at the sound of the dispatcher’s voice.

“Sure.” She glanced at the clock beside the bed and almost groaned. Two in the morning. “I’ll drive myself in.”

“Go right to Fifth and Walnut,” Donna directed briskly.

Finn pulled out a clean uniform shirt and pants and dressed quickly. Fifth and Walnut. She sent up a prayer of thanks that it wasn’t a residential area. She walked quickly toward the garage, rounded the corner and bumped into something solid.

“Finn?”

“John.” She stepped back. “What are you doing out here?”

He didn’t answer. “Where are you going?”

“They called me back in to work because there’s a fire.”

“How much sleep have you had?”

“Three hours,” Finn said, already moving toward her vehicle.

“I’ll tag along.”

“That’s not necessary.” She paused when she glanced up and saw his expression. “All right. Suit yourself.”

The address the dispatcher had given Finn was just past the downtown business district, and as they got closer, the crimson glow from the burning building was visible from two blocks away. Black smoke billowed into the sky, shielding the stars from view.

Finn searched for a familiar face and finally saw Wes Garrett moving along the perimeter. He didn’t look very happy to see her.

“Kelly, we’ve got a bunch of people who’d rather watch this building burn than sleep. Can you believe it? Tape the driveway and then stand here to make sure no one gets past. There’s a reporter from the newspaper already trying to squeeze in.”

“What happened?” Finn had to lift her voice above the noise of the fire hoses pumping water. Already her eyes were watering and she could taste the smoke.

“We’re not sure, but the fire inspector has been called and he’ll be here shortly. There’s a bunch of stuff stored in this warehouse—maybe something flammable. Who knows?” Suddenly, Wes noticed John Gabriel standing several feet behind Finn. “Hi, John. Felt like losing a little sleep, too, huh? Kelly, make yourself at home—you’ll be here a while.” He disappeared into the hazy darkness.

For a moment, Finn just stared at the blaze. There was a panicked cry from the bystanders when one of the walls caved in, but the firefighters were clear. Most of the people watching were still in their pajamas. Finn scanned the faces of the onlookers until her gaze rested briefly on one of them. It was a young male, tall and thin, his shoulders slightly slumped. Even from the distance that separated them, Finn thought she recognized Ricky Calhoun. She took a few steps toward him, but the wind shifted and smoke poured between them. When she got close enough to recognize individual faces, the person she had thought was Ricky had disappeared.

“Is something wrong?” John was at her shoulder, so close that his breath stirred her hair.

“No, I just thought I saw someone I know.” She peered into the darkness, hoping for another glimpse of him. “I guess not. I better get this tape up.” She remembered the careless way Ricky had flipped the cigarette into the street when their paths had crossed. She knew the Calhouns lived several miles outside of Miranda Station in one of the most expensive subdivisions. Their home was brand-new and the showcase of a successful businessman. Given the warehouse’s location, it was interesting that Ricky would be one of the bystanders at the fire.

Two hours later, the blaze was out and daylight was soaking into the horizon. Finn was exhausted. The building was a total loss.

“Gone,” she murmured. “The devastation is incredible, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” John agreed tightly.

She heard the change in his tone and looked at him, then guessed what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

“How can you not realize?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t you see the scar? Everyone else does.”

Finn swallowed hard. His eyes glittered like emeralds and his voice was low, but his words cut into her like the flick of a whip. “I see the scars here.” She reached up and touched the front of his shirt. “These are the only ones I see.”

He caught her hand and she felt the warmth of his skin. For a moment they stared at each other. Finn’s heart began to pound in an uneven rhythm.

“I’m going to go back now,” he said, breaking the silence. “Don’t worry about Colin, I’ll let him out.”

“Go ahead and take my Jeep,” Finn said. “I’ve got to go back to the station anyway and write out a report, so I’ll catch a ride home with one of the guys.”

He hesitated for just a moment, then turned and strode away.

John had found Seamus and Anne already awake and sitting at a table on their patio when he arrived. Both had been anxious to hear about Finn. He had accepted a cup of coffee and a slice of Danish, and had told them about the warehouse.

“Arson,” Seamus said. “We’ve had a string of fires lately but no one can figure out who it is.”

“They’ll get him,” John said. “This is a small city. He’ll make a mistake.”

“Hopefully not on someone’s house.” Seamus closed his eyes, obviously reliving the past—the sound of the explosion and the strangling smoke.

John knew what he was thinking. He didn’t break into a cold sweat anymore when he heard the sound of sirens but it was something he had buried deep within himself.

“I’m going to shower and take Colin out,” he said, rising from the wicker chair.

“Finn will be exhausted,” Anne fretted. “It’s a good thing she’s got the next three days off so she can rest up.”

Three days off. It would be the perfect time to do some more digging. If she was still talking to him.

This was becoming impossible. He still felt the touch of her hand on his chest. These are the only ones I see. Without thinking, he touched the side of his face and remembered Kristen’s expression the first time she’d seen him after the bandages had been removed. He’d seen the flare of sorrow in her eyes before she’d looked away. Funny, but he’d immediately sensed that the sorrow was for herself more than for him. Because if she married him, she’d be sentenced to a lifetime of staring at his burned skin.

And what did Finn know about scars? A twenty-three-year-old who had grown up in the shelter of a large, loving family?

Finn went back to the department after her relief showed up. Gil was at the desk. She skirted past him while he was studying the computer screen and went into the back office.

The Juvenile files were closed to the public, but she scanned them briefly and found what she was looking for. Ricky Calhoun. It wasn’t a long report, but it was enough.

Carl poked his head in the doorway. “Need a ride home, Finn?”

“Sure. Just a minute.” Finn closed the file.

“Looking for something in particular?” he asked curiously as they walked out to the parking lot.

“Not really.” Finn hesitated and glanced at him as she slid in the passenger side of the squad car. “I was checking to see if we have anything on Ricky Calhoun.”

“Ricky Calhoun?” Carl repeated the name in surprise. “Why?”

“I think I saw him last night at the scene.”

“And?”

“I have a hunch.”

“A hunch.”

“I think that Ricky Calhoun has been setting the fires.”

Carl gave a burst of amazed laughter. “You aren’t serious…Finn, you can’t be serious!”

“He started a fire in a Dumpster when he was a freshman in high school,” she told him.

“And that’s the basis for your hunch?” Carl was grinning. “Finn, that was years ago!”

Finn was beginning to wish she had never mentioned it. “He’s bored. He hangs around doing nothing.” As she voiced her thoughts out loud, she realized how thin her suspicions were.

“Finn, that kid is the son of the man who practically runs this city. Even if you had a picture of Ricky Calhoun standing outside a burning building, holding a match and wearing a T-shirt that said ‘I love the smell of smoke,’ it wouldn’t get past the DA’s office.” Carl turned the squad car into her driveway and looked at her. “A hunch isn’t enough for this one, kiddo.”

“Maybe if you and I went to the Chief—”

Carl held up one hand. “Whoa, slow down. I’m not going out on a limb with you on this one. Not without solid proof. Look, I know you feel like you have to prove yourself, but if you’re wrong and this backfires…” His index finger made a slicing motion across his neck.

“I know.” Finn grabbed her logbook and shoved it in her bag. “See you next week.”

Carl stuck his head out the window. “Did you forget that his dad is on the Police and Fire Commission?”

“No,” Finn muttered, raising her hand in a halfhearted wave. “I didn’t forget.”

The house was quiet when she opened the door. No Colin. She realized that John must have taken him over to the other house and was relieved at having no demands placed on her for the moment.

Maybe it was crazy to think that Ricky Calhoun had anything to do with the fires. He was just a kid, not a professional arsonist. If it was him, the fire inspector would have figured it out by now. No wonder Carl thought the smoke had gotten to her. Still, the feeling was so strong.

You can’t always trust your feelings.

She tried to push the thoughts from her mind and took a quick shower to get rid of the smell of smoke that still clung to her skin. Putting on her swimsuit and a matching pair of shorts, she stepped outside. When she slipped in through the patio doors of the big house, she found her grandmother in the kitchen, making chicken salad.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Anne hugged her. “John told us all about the fire. Did you just get home?”

“About half an hour ago. Chief said my eight hours started when I was called in for the fire, so that gives me the rest of the day off.” She found a spoon and sampled the salad. “A total loss, but no one was hurt and the fire didn’t spread to other buildings.”

“Have some more,” Anne offered. “I’ll bet you haven’t eaten since last night.”

“Just coffee and a stale doughnut,” Finn admitted.

“John took Colin for a walk a little while ago. They should be back any minute. It looks like you’re going to take a swim. It’s a beautiful day for it.” Anne chatted as she cleaned up the kitchen. “I have to get my hair done and then Seamus is taking me out for dinner tonight. He invited John along, but he said he’d prefer to stay here. The man keeps to himself, doesn’t he. I remember after the accident we invited him to family get-togethers and such, but he wouldn’t come.”

“Doesn’t he have any family?” Finn asked.

Anne shook her head. “He was moved around to different foster families most of his life, that’s all we know.”

Finn’s heart ached for him. She couldn’t imagine growing up and being shifted around from place to place. The Kellys were woven tightly together and no matter how large they got or how much distance separated them, the fabric of family was never weakened.

“Your grandpa took John under his wing after the accident. He was the one who talked to the powers-that-be at the Madison Agency to hire him. John got in and, within a few months, started to make a name for himself all on his own.”

Finn wasn’t surprised. Gritty determination was evident in every line on the man’s face.

They both heard a sharp bark, and Anne looked out the kitchen window. “They’re back.”

Finn’s insides fluttered crazily again. She wondered if he was still angry with her. For some reason, honesty won out when she was with John Gabriel. She couldn’t help it that she didn’t notice the scar on his face when she looked at him.

He hasn’t let You heal the things in his past yet, has he, God? Or let them be used for Your purposes? Do whatever it takes to help him open the door to Your love.

Chapter Six

When John walked into the kitchen, both the women looked guilty. Finn’s cheeks flushed two shades lighter than her hair and Anne started scooping up bowls of salad. They had been talking about him.

“Thank you for taking Colin out,” Finn said, an odd formality in her tone.

John was frustrated. If he was ever going to find out what was going on—if there was something going on—then he couldn’t let his personal feelings show. Normally, that wasn’t a problem, but something about Finn unsettled him. Now, she looked skittish, and uncomfortable, no doubt remembering the conversation they’d had at the fire scene.

“Have some lunch, John.” Anne pushed a bowl of chicken salad toward him. “Seamus is resting and then we’re going out for the afternoon.”

“It’s eleven o’clock, Gran,” Finn said suspiciously. “Why is Chief resting? Isn’t he feeling well?”

“Oh, he’s just a little tired today.” Anne smiled, and John thought it looked forced.

“Are you sure?” Concern for her grandfather drained the little bit of color from Finn’s face, and there were dark smudges under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Anne patted her arm comfortingly. “I better wake him up if I’m going to make my hair appointment on time. You two enjoy the pool.”

She left the kitchen, and Finn stared after her worriedly.

“Finn?”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.”

She did.

“Get some rest.”

Her smooth brow furrowed. “I’m fine.”

“Douse yourself with sunscreen, grab one of those chairs by the pool and nap for an hour.”

Some spark of life came back into her eyes. “Giving orders, Agent Gabriel? I wasn’t aware that I was under your supervision.”

He hid a smile. She had a way of getting to him, all right. “Technically, I’m a lieutenant, so I outrank you.”

“Yes, sir.” She gave him a saucy salute before she turned toward the door.

Finn’s afternoon rest was cut short by a bank of clouds that moved in, drawing a dark curtain between her and the sun. A cool breeze swept across her, prickling her skin. She grabbed her beach towel and pulled it around her shoulders just as thunder growled in the distance. A quick glance at her watch revealed she had been dozing for about an hour.

There was no sign of John, who hadn’t come outside even after her grandparents left earlier. Colin was sleeping under one of the deck chairs.

“Colin, come.”

The dog sprang to his feet and followed her back home.

By the time she changed her clothes, the sky was so dark it looked like it was dusk instead of the middle of the afternoon. She lit a few candles and decided to make lasagna for supper. She enjoyed cooking and never minded making extra to take over to her grandparents.

There was a knock on the door and Finn’s heart lifted. There was only one person it could be. The one who’d been in her thoughts all afternoon.

“Anne asked me to give you your mail when you woke up.” John stood just outside, a thin stack of envelopes in his hand.

“My mail comes to them. Technically, this house is part of the same address.” Finn wondered if she was rambling, but she was glad to see him. She couldn’t deny it.

“Do you…” Her voice was suddenly drowned out as the heavens opened and it started to pour.

Laughing, she pulled John into the house. “Bad timing, John, it looks like you’re stuck here for a while.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Maybe I planned it this way.”

Suddenly Finn stopped laughing. Every breath that she took for granted was suddenly struggling to get out.

“Why would you do that?” she asked. “Do you like spending time with me?”

There it was again. Her honesty pushing him into a corner and making him aware of things he thought he had buried. Things like feelings. And needs.

A crooked spike of lightning made the lights flicker and distracted Finn for a moment. John took the opportunity to escape. He wandered into the kitchen and saw the beginnings of an Italian dinner. Coward, he told himself.

“Lasagna,” she said behind him. “You’re welcome to stay.”

For how long? He shook the thought away even as it surfaced. “Where’s your television?”

She studied him. “You don’t watch television, do you?”

“Never.”

“Quit trying to get out of kitchen duty.” Finn rummaged through a drawer by the stove. Out came a square of sunny yellow cloth. Before he could react, he was wearing an apron emblazoned with the words “For This I Went to College?”

He looked at her. “Cute.”

“It was a gift from my cousin last Christmas, but I think it looks better on you.” Finn flounced away and started to rip up a head of lettuce.

He sighed. “I’ll set the table.”

“Great.” With that simple word, she accepted his presence in the kitchen.

John watched her for a moment.

“Agent Gabriel, it’s not polite to stare.”

He set the table.

The storm didn’t subside. Outside, the wind lashed at the trees and blew rain like shot against the windows. At seven o’clock the telephone rang.

“Hi, Chief…I was thinking about that, too. No, it’s fine. John had supper with me. Yes, he’s still here. I’ll see you in the morning, then.” Finn hung up the phone. “They ended up at the Silvermans’ after dinner to play cards and they decided to wait out the storm there.”

“That’s probably best,” John agreed. “Visibility is nil out there.”

Colin went to the door and whined.

“No walk tonight,” Finn told him.

He recognized the word walk and looked at her hopefully.

“Not tonight, boy.”

“You shouldn’t run at night.” John frowned, his gaze raking Finn’s slender frame. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds.

“Miranda Station is perfectly safe.” Finn chuckled.

“There is nowhere on this earth that is perfectly safe.”

“I’m fine, John.” Finn started to walk toward the window when suddenly she was lying on her back, staring into John’s green eyes. She was pinned to the floor by his arm as he knelt beside her. His face was inches from her own.

“See, anything can happen.”

“That’s not fair, you took me by surprise,” she complained.

“You should never be taken by surprise,” he countered. “Didn’t they teach you that in recruit school?”

“They taught me to never turn my back on the bad guys.”

“You don’t always know who the bad guys are, do you.”

His words cut into her deeply. No, she didn’t know. If she did, reports wouldn’t change and court notices wouldn’t disappear into thin air.

“And are you one of the bad guys?”

“I might be.” He released his hold on her and rose to his feet. He extended his hand, but she ignored it and scooted into a sitting position.

Colin trotted over and pushed his face against John’s leg.

“Traitor,” Finn muttered. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she grudgingly accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet.

“Never let your guard down,” he said tersely.

“That’s your code, not mine.”

“It’s every officer’s,” John argued. “I knew an officer who was off duty and went into a convenience store for a gallon of milk. The place was being held up and he walked right into the middle of it.”

“What happened?” Finn asked, but she was afraid she already knew the answer.

“The guy who was robbing the place recognized him first and fired.”

Finn turned away. “I don’t need to hear any more.”

“I think you do,” John said, his voice harsh. “Don’t you see how fragile you are? How easy it was to take you down?”

Tears stung Finn’s eyes. “I’m not expecting a friend to attack me.” Even as she said the words, she realized that that was what was happening at the department.

“Finn, some people just pretend to be your friend.”

Chapter Seven

Finn slept late the next morning. It was something she seldom did and she recognized it for what it was—an escape from the reality of the evening before. John had left shortly after he’d confronted her about letting her guard down.

She rolled over and closed her eyes. Lord, he needs to meet You. He needs to learn to trust again. I know You can help him. I know it. Do what You need to do to chip away at the walls.

When peace started to quiet the churning inside, she got up, showered and dressed. The rain had ended sometime during the night and already patches of blue sky were showing through the clouds. When she walked outside, everything smelled fresh and water pinged gently from the eaves to the flagstone at her feet.

Seamus was standing on the patio in his bathrobe, holding a cup of coffee. He waved a greeting.

“Hi, Chief.”

“Feeling rested this morning?”

“Not really,” she said simply, mentally reliving the restless night she had spent. “But I’ll sleep better tonight.”

“So will I,” Seamus admitted. “I think I counted raindrops until two in the morning.”

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