"Look," Mia said.

"I see her," Solliday returned tightly.

"Police Lieutenant Marc Spinnelli issued a 'no comment' statement earlier this afternoon, but has since scheduled a press conference for tomorrow morning. We'll keep you informed as news breaks. This is Holly Wheaton, Action News."

Mia was staring at the screen. "Rewind."

Solliday already was. He slowed the tape, then took it frame by frame. "We can't see the license number on her car. It's a blue… Hyundai. Four or five years old."

"She could just be a bystander or a sensation seeker," Lauren said doubtfully.

Mia's skin was tingling, her fatigue chased away. "I don't think so. You want to pay Holly Wheaton a visit tomorrow? Maybe they caught more on tape."

Solliday smiled, a sharp feral smile that told her his instincts had bpen awakened as well. "She might still be at the station. Let's call her now."

Mia shook her head. "It's almost eleven. Nobody's going to be answering the phones."

His expression shifted. "I have her direct line and cell," he admitted. "And home."

A twinge of annoyance had her brows crunching. "I thought she didn't like you."

"I thought she drove you crazy last year," Lauren added more glibly and he glared at her. Lauren just grinned. "I'll wrap up your dinner so you can take it with you."

When Lauren had left the room he turned his glare on Mia. "Five people died in that apartment fire last year." Pain flashed in his dark eyes. "Three of them were kids. One baby still in a crib. Wheaton didn't care about that, about any of them. She just tried to cuddle up for an exclusive. I wasn't interested. Even if I had been, I sure as hell wouldn't have been after that. I'm not that kind of man, Mia." He stopped abruptly, his eyes locked on hers. "I only kept her card because I never throw anything away."

It was one of those moments, Mia thought, when the depth of a person was truly revealed. He wouldn't be interested in a woman whose only care was camera angle and her number of minutes on air. That wasn't the kind of man he was. The annoyance vanished, replaced with a deep respect and with it a resurgence of desire, deeper than before. Dangerous ground. Mentally she edged back. "Then let's call her now."

He nodded once, hard. "Okay."

Chapter Ten

Tuesday, November 28, 11:15 P.M.

W heaton was waiting for him at the front door of the studio smiling-until Mitchell walked in. Wheaton's mouth pursed hard, and lines marred her famous face.

Wheaton's face was classically beautiful. And her body… Well, Reed wasn't dead. She disgusted him personally, but his hormones apparently had no ethics. They hadn't when she'd sidled up to him while he investigated that apartment fire last year, either. Her blouse had been unbuttoned so that he could see the lace of her bra and the swell of her breast. Then she'd opened her mouth and that had been the end of that.

"We saw your piece on the fire at Penny Hill's house," he said.

She preened. "It was good, wasn't it?"

"Yes, very. We want the tape. All the tape you took while you were there tonight."

Wheaton studied his face. "What's in it for me?"

"You won't be broadcasting from a jail cell," Mia said acidly.

Wheaton's eyes narrowed. "I don't respond to threats, Detective."

Mia smiled then, and it wasn't nice. "I haven't yet begun, Miss Wheaton. We're specifically interested in the video the neighbor took. Which neighbor was it?"

"You know I won't tell you that. I protect my sources."

"This is a homicide investigation. Miss Wheaton," Mia snapped. "Two innocent people are dead. Cooperate or I'll have a court order tomorrow morning banning any more show of that tape. I want the tape you shot and the neighbor's tape. Now."

"Holly, it's been a very long day," Reed said, making his voice soothing. "We've been on this case nonstop for twenty-four hours. We could get a court order, but nobody here wants to do that."

"I do," Mia muttered and Holly's chin went up and her mouth opened.

"We don't," Reed said before either woman could speak. "Truly. We're trying to put a killer behind bars, Holly. You can help us do that."

She jutted her jaw to one side. "In return for?"

Reed glanced at Mia from the corner of his eye. "An interview when it's all over."

Wheaton's eyes went sly. "It could be weeks. How about a chat every morning?"

"How about once a week?" Reed countered. He wanted a killer off the street. He wanted that tape.

"Two times a week, days and locations to be determined by me."

Reed swallowed his sigh. "Fine," he said wearily. "Can we have the tape now?"

Her smile was feline. "I'll send it tomorrow if I have time. Thursday at the latest."

Beside him, Mia opened her mouth. "Fu-"

Reed cleared his throat, cutting off the rest of Mia's curse. "Tonight. Now. Or the deal's off and Detective Mitchell gets her court order." He lifted his hand when Wheaton started to talk. "And I'll personally see that every engine company in town bars you from any and all fire scenes and," he added softly, "your boss will know why."

Wheaton's mouth went grim and Reed knew they had a deal. "Wait here."

When she was gone he turned to Mia. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Her blue eyes were cold. "I'll wait for you outside," she answered.

With a sigh he watched her go. Thirty minutes passed and finally Wheaton reappeared, a videotape in her hand. "It has the neighbor's video?" Reed asked.

When she didn't see Mia, Wheaton smiled. "I would never welsh, Lieutenant."

"Of course you would if it benefited you. If this is missing anything, the deal is off."

Her smile went flat. "And how would you know if it were missing anything?"

"Detective Mitchell will tell me after she seizes all tapes made since last Saturday. I expect she'll have her court order by ten tomorrow at the latest."

She cocked her jaw, fury in her eyes. "I could erase them all."

He smiled and pulled his micro-recorder from his pocket, hit //smc rewind and let it replay her last words as her eyes narrowed to angry slits. "I wouldn't. Mitchell would love to see your ass in jail. I don't think you'd find the accommodations to your liking."

"You sonofabitch," she hissed.

He pocketed his recorder and stuck the tape under his arm. Her assessment was very true in a basic kind of way. "Good night," he said. "I'll see myself out."

Mia was leaning on the hood of her little car, eating lasa-gna out of Lauren's plastic bowl. When she saw him coming she tossed the container on the front passenger seat, her face a stony mask. He handed her the tape but she shook her head. "We'll watch it tomorrow," she said. "Eight o'clock." She was walking away when he rolled his eyes and caught up to her.

"Mia, you're being childish," he said and she whirled, fury snapping in her eyes.

"You undermined me," she hissed. "The next time I go to get evidence, I'll have to work twice as hard. Dammit, I could have had a court order by tomorrow morning."

"But you have the tape now." When she just looked at him, he sighed in frustration. "You weren't going to get what you wanted that way, Mia. Sometimes it pays to be-" He cut himself off, but she'd already taken a step back as if he'd slapped her.

"Nice," she finished, her voice brittle. "I'll make a note of it." She walked around her car, shoulders hunched against the wind. She looked small. And hurt.

Let her go, the voice in his head cautioned as she fired up her engine. By tomorrow she'll be fine. But he'd seen the look in her eyes. She'll bounce back. She'll get over it by morning. Trouble was, he didn't think he would. That's not the kind of man I am.