Heat slapped Jake across the face. From the doorway, he watched the Jeep burn like a bonfire in the parking lot. Claire gasped, then squeezed around him. They ran out the door, her brothers right behind them, and only made it a few steps before the crackling blaze’s heat forced them to stop. 

Orange flames stretched from the Jeep’s now-crispy upholstery toward the sun straight above them. Benzene, smoke and burning vinyl seats poisoned the air around the gathering crowd of busboys, servers and curious customers. 

What kind of life was Claire living? Could this be the work of a jealous ex-boyfriend, an angry customer, or had Kendall’s killer picked out another victim? 

Jake glanced over. She stood an arm’s reach away, her bottom lip trembling. Then, she clenched her jaw tight. From the looks of her, she was either about to punch someone’s lights out or bawl. The real fire had turned her feisty spark to ash.

The urge to tuck her into his arms and protect her from this latest disaster had him taking a step toward her before he stopped himself. He wouldn’t get emotionally involved in a case, no matter how right it felt. Not a second time.   

Shouts of, “Get the fire extinguisher,” tore his attention away from Claire. A fire truck sped into the parking lot, drowning out the crowd’s clamor. 

Looked like there were benefits to living in a small town, and response time was one of them.

People moved back toward the bushes, giving the firefighters room. But one guy peeled off from the crowd. He didn’t look forward. Instead, he kept his head down and turned slightly away. About six feet tall, he had shaggy, sandy hair with a skin-and-bones build. The man ignored the commotion as he made his way out of the parking lot. 

The hairs on Jake’s neck stood at attention. He didn’t have any proof, but in his gut he knew. He leaned toward Hank.

“Sheriff, see the guy hoofing it out of here? White shirt? That’s gotta be him,” Jake said in a low voice. 

In tandem, the two men strolled toward the suspect. Although adrenaline pumped through his veins faster than an avalanche in the Rockies, Jake had to stay slow and in control. A wrong move and he’d tip off the arsonist.

“You asshole! You set my car on fire!” 

Claire’s battle cry rose above the sound of the fire, the sirens and the crowd. He groaned as she streaked past him. Looked like she’d picked brawl over bawl. 

As she chased after the suspect, the man booked it at a fast clip away from the banshee on his heels. Without hesitation Jake took off after them. He didn’t think first, just followed her lead.

Damn, he seemed to do that a lot around this woman.

Did you miss part of Dangerous Kiss? Catch up here. xoxo, Avery