“Wait.” He grabbed a shirt and headed down the hallway just as she opened the front door. She hesitated when her cell phone beeped an incoming text message.

“Is it…him?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s him. Texting me from the dead.” She opened her phone and let him read over her shoulder.

Go home. I’ll find you there when this is over, when you’re safe.

As they stood there in his open doorway looking down at the screen, a huge trash truck lumbered down the street, making the earth shudder as it went past-

Boom.

Kenzie’s bright red sports car vanished in a cloud of smoke and flames and flying metal as it exploded.

KENZIE SAT ON AIDAN’S CURB looking out at the street, which was littered with cops and various other official personnel, including Tommy and the chief. And lots of red car parts.

Everyone was trying to figure out what the hell had happened.

Her car had gone boom, just like Blake’s Girl, that was what had happened.

“Kenzie.” Aidan’s athletic shoes appeared in her peripheral vision, and then the rest of him as he sat at her side.

“My insurance company isn’t going to be happy,” she said. “I blame the trash truck.”

“The trash truck saved your life. You car had been rigged to blow when you got into it, but the truck vibrated the street so much it went up early.”

“Oh.” She winced. “I wish I didn’t know that.”

“Give me your cell phone.”

“Why?”

“So I can call whoever’s been calling you.”

“Blake. Blake’s been calling me.”

“Whoever it is.” His mouth was grim as some of his clear frustration and fear for her filtered into his words. “I just want him to stay the hell away from you.”

“This wasn’t him.”

“Then who?”

“I’m working on that.”

He looked down at her. “By yourself.”

“It’s how I work best, apparently.” She stood up. During the time she’d been gone from Santa Rey, she’d closed herself off, both her heart and soul. It was a hell of a time to realize that. But no matter what happened here-whether she left and went back to Los Angeles, or whether she stayed-whatever she settled on for herself, she couldn’t go back to closing herself off.

“Kenzie.”

“I didn’t mean to get so good at being alone. I didn’t realize, living in L.A., the land of pretend, that I’d never built myself any real relationships.” She let out a long breath and met his gaze. “But that changed when I got here. When I was with you. I love you, Aidan. Again. Still. I love you.”

And while that shocking statement hung in the air, someone called for Aidan. But he just stared at Kenzie. “You-”

“Aidan!”

With a grimace, he looked over his shoulder. “Shit, it’s the chief.”

“Go.”

“Kenzie-”

“Go.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, she watched him walk toward a tall man whose back was to her, stretching out a dark blue shirt that said Chief across the shoulders.

Then she walked away. She didn’t have a car, so she had no idea where she thought she was going, but she had to leave.

In her pocket, her cell phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Another half block. Gray car.

I LOVE YOU. Aidan muttered the three little words that Kenzie had said to him. She’d said them, and then she’d vanished, and he had no idea where she’d gone. One moment he’d been talking to the chief, and the next…She’d been gone. It’d been hours, and not a word.

He was at the station now, and she still hadn’t answered her damn cell phone, and he was starting to lose it. He shouldn’t have walked away to talk to the chief, he should have dragged her with him.

“Hey, Mr. 2008.” Cristina came into the station kitchen and went straight for the refrigerator. “What are you pouting about?” She helped herself to someone else’s lunch.

“You could bring your own.”

“I could.” Cristina pulled out a thick turkey sandwich. “But I don’t.”

“Hey, that’s mine,” Dustin said, joining them from the garage. “What did I tell you about stealing my sandwich?”

Cristina spoke around a huge mouthful. “If I was still sleeping with you, I’d bet you’d give me your sandwich.”

Dustin’s eyes darkened. “You slept with me once.”

“Your point?”

“My point is that if we were still sleeping together, I’d make you your own damn sandwich.”

She took another bite, chewing with a moan. “You know, I should give that some thought, because you do make the best sandwiches.”

Dustin tossed up his hands and walked back out of the room.

When he was gone, Cristina dropped her tough girl pose, watching him go with a naked look of longing.

“You could just tell him the truth,” Aidan said.

“What, that he makes crappy sandwiches?”

“No, that you’re scared. He’d understand fear.” Hell, he understood it all too well.

“Are you kidding me? I’m not scared.” Cristina tossed the sandwich back in the fridge. “I’m not scared of anything.” But as she shut the fridge, she pressed her forehead to the door. “Ah, hell. I’m scared. Everything’s messed up. Dustin’s mad at me. Blake’s gone. There’s no good food. Blake’s gone.”

“You still miss him.”

“Hell, yeah, I still miss him. He was a great partner. And now even the chief, his own flesh and blood, wants to make him out to be a monster that we know he wasn’t.”

“Wait.” Aidan grabbed her arm. “What?”

“He wasn’t a monster.”

“The flesh and blood part. What did you mean about that?”

Cristina’s lips tightened. “Blake asked me never to tell.”

“He asked you never to tell what?”

She sighed. “That the chief’s his uncle. They were estranged, though. Blake’s parents were-”

“Dead. They died years ago.”

“Yeah. But his father was the chief’s half brother.”

Blood is thicker than water…Good God. “If that’s true,” he asked hoarsely, “why did Blake and Kenzie spend their childhood in foster care?”

“Because the chief didn’t want kids. Or something like that.” She shrugged. “Not sure on the details.”

Neither was he. Except that somehow…Christ. Somehow the chief-

His cell phone rang. When he looked down at the screen, his heart skipped a beat. “Thank God,” he said to Kenzie in lieu of a greeting. “Listen to me. I just realized-”

“Aidan, I need you. I’m sorry, I know I don’t really have the right to say that to you, but I do. Can you come meet me? Now? Please?”

“Just tell me where.”

AIDAN BURST INSIDE the Sunrise Café and looked around the tables.

No Kenzie.

“She’s on the roof,” Sheila told him, standing behind the bar drying glasses.

“Thanks.”

“Something about Tommy being on his way, and having all the answers you need…”

Aidan had the answers. He just didn’t have the girl, which he intended to rectify. He headed for the stairs as Sheila turned her attention to someone else. “Hey, there, good-looking,” she called out with a smile of greeting. Aidan took the stairs without looking back, coming to a relieved halt on the roof at the sight of Kenzie sitting on the bench.

“Tommy’s on his way,” she said, standing up. Someone stepped out from the shadows behind her and Aidan’s heart stopped.

It was Blake, who by all logical accounts should be dead.

Only there was nothing logical about any of this. Not the arsons, and not the way Aidan knew he loved the woman standing in front of him like he’d never loved anyone before.

“Listen to him,” Kenzie said quietly. “Listen to your heart.”

He was listening to his heart, which had kicked back to life and was screaming, demanding that he pull Kenzie close and tell her he loved her, too. That he was sorry it’d taken him so long, but like Cristina, he’d been afraid, was in fact still afraid but would no longer run from how he felt.

He’d never again run from her.

But that would have to wait. He looked at Blake, who was thinner than ever. And he walked with a cane. “I know, it’s crazy,” his old friend said, his voice low and urgent. “You thought I was dead and I’m not. I…faked my own death.”

“I’m getting that.”

“When I found out who the real arsonist was, I realized no one was safe.” Blake’s face was twisted in tortured misery. “He killed Tracy right after he blew up my boat.”

“I know. I know all of it. I even know who we’re talking about. I just don’t know why.”

“Oh, I can tell you why,” said the man who came through the roof door to stand in front of them. The chief nodded in Aidan’s direction. “If you really want to know.”

Shit. Aidan pulled out his cell, hit Tommy’s number and put the phone to his ear.

“Nearly there,” Tommy said tensely.

“Hurry. Bring backup.”

“Oh, it’ll be too late,” the chief said conversationally.

“Uncle Allan?” Kenzie breathed, staring at the chief. She looked at Aidan. “He’s the fire chief? I thought…” She turned back to her uncle. “I thought you were in Chicago.”

“I was. I came back here a year ago. A shame we lost touch or you’d have known.”

“We lost touch-” Kenzie took a step toward him, or tried to, but Blake grabbed her hand and held her back “-because you didn’t want us.”

“Now, now. That’s not entirely true. I just didn’t want to be responsible for raising kids. I never wanted kids.”

“But it’s okay to be responsible for killing people?”

“One person,” he corrected. “Not people. And that was an accident.”

“You killed Tracy and that was no accident,” Blake ground out. “You murdered her.”

“Ah, now, see murder implies intent, and I don’t have intent. I have an addiction.” He smiled sadly. “It means I can’t help it.”

Kenzie again tried to charge him, but this time it was Aidan who held her back, not trusting that asshole with her.

“If I was an alcoholic,” the chief asked, “would you still be looking at me like that? If I had a drug problem? No, you’d be trying to get me help.”

“I tried to get you help,” Blake told him. “When I figured out you had started that second fire all those months ago, you begged me to understand. You lied and said it was your first time, and that you’d stop, that you’d get help. Instead a child died and when I tried to turn you in you threatened me.”

The chief slowly shook his head. “Tommy was getting close. You wouldn’t leave me alone. I had to do something. I had to keep you quiet.”

Blake gave Aidan an agonized look, as though pleading for forgiveness. “By then he had implicated me. He’d changed the schedules, he’d planted evidence. He discredited me so that even if I did tell, I’d be the first one they’d lock up. And once I was in jail, he threatened to hurt Kenzie.

“Then Zach started asking questions and the chief tried to kill him by burning down his house. I had followed him, Zach saw me, and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and faked my death. If I was gone, he had no reason to harm Kenzie.”

“And I didn’t.”

“You killed Tracy!”

“But not Kenzie,” the chief said calmly. “Look, Tracy was going to put together a list of people who’d purchased those metal trash cans. I would have been on that list.”

“You didn’t have to kill her,” Blake shouted.

“He had to set more fires,” Aidan said grimly.

“That’s true.” The chief nodded emphatically. “I can’t help myself. I tried like hell. I couldn’t stop, but at least I went for old and dilapidated properties, or overly insured buildings.” He paused. “Like this one.”

Aidan stared at him. “What?”

“Sheila is getting ready to renovate,” the chief said.

“She has to,” Aidan said. “The building has structural problems.”

“Yes, and now she’s over insured to protect it. It’s a situation that cries out to an arsonist. It needs to burn.”

“Ohmigod,” Kenzie breathed, looking horrified. “You’re a very sick man.”

“Agreed.” Her uncle smiled without any mirth. He clapped his hands together. “Well, it’s been nice clearing all this up but I’ve got to end this now.”

“You’re not walking away,” Aidan said. “Not from this. You have to pay for your crimes.”

“I’m not paying for anything. You didn’t get hurt. None of you died.”

“Are you kidding?” Aidan asked incredulously. “Blake nearly died trying to stop you. You nearly killed Kenzie on Blake’s Girl, and then again when you blew up her car.”

“Nearly won’t hold up in a court of law. I was just trying to scare her out of town, anyway. The car was supposed to blow an hour earlier, but a fuse failed me. And the boat was an accident. I was just trying to get rid of Blake’s laptop. I didn’t know she was there that night.”