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of the shelter’s residents—the fire hadn’t been an accident. It had been started intentionally. She’d discovered an incendiary device hidden right off the kitchen, set for a time when the area was presumably empty. So whoever had done this hadn’t wanted to isolate anyone or cut them off from making an escape. A fire in the kitchen when there was no one in the kitchen meant that the goal was destruction of property, not lives.
    Too bad things didn’t always go according to plan, she silently mourned. One of the shelter volunteers had gotten cut off from the others and hadn’t made it out of the building. She’d been found on the floor, unconscious. The paramedics worked over the young woman for close to half an hour before she finally came around. She was one of the lucky.
    Frowning, Kansas rocked back on her heels and shook her head.
    This psychopath needed to be found and brought to justice quickly, before he did any more damage.
    And she needed to get some sleep before she fell on her face.
    She wondered where the displaced residents of the shelter would be sleeping tonight. She took comfort in the knowledge that they’d be returning in a few weeks even if the construction wasn’t yet completed.
    With a weary sigh, Kansas stood up and headed for the front entrance.
    Just before she crossed the charred threshold, she kicked something. Curious, thinking it might just possibly have something to do with the identity of whoever started the fire, she stooped down to pick it up.
    It turned out to be a cell phone—in pretty awful condition, from what she could tell. Flipping it open, she found that the battery was still active. She could just barely make out the wallpaper. It was a picture of three people. Squinting, she realized that the obnoxious detective who thought she needed to be carried out of the building fireman-style was in the photo.
    There were two more people with him, both of whom looked identical to him. Now there was a curse, she mused, closing the phone again. Three Detective O’Briens. Kansas shivered at the thought.
    “Tough night, huh?” the captain said, coming up to her. It wasn’t really a question.
    “That it was. On the heels of a tough day,” she added. She hated not being able to come up with an answer, tohave unsolved cases pile up on top of one another like some kind of uneven pyramid.
    Captain John Lawrence looked at her with compassion. “Why don’t you go home, Kansas?”
    “I’m almost done,” she told him.
    His eyes swept over her and he shook his head. “Looks to me like you’re almost done in .” Lawrence nodded toward the building they’d just walked out of. “This’ll all still be here tomorrow morning, Kansas. And you’ll be a lot fresher. Maybe it’ll make more sense to you then.”
    Kansas paused to look back at the building and sighed. “Burning buildings will never make any sense to me,” she contradicted. “But maybe you’re right about needing to look at this with fresh eyes.”
    “I’m always right,” Lawrence told her with a chuckle. “That’s why they made me the captain.”
    Kansas grinned. “That, and don’t forget your overwhelming modesty.”
    “You’ve been paying attention.” His eyes crinkled, all but disappearing when he smiled.
    “Right from the beginning, Captain Lawrence,” she assured him.
    Captain Lawrence had been more than fair to her, and she appreciated that. She’d heard horror stories about other houses and how life became so intolerable that female firefighters wound up quitting. Not that she ever would. It wasn’t in her nature to quit. But she appreciated not having to make that choice.
    Looking down, she realized that she was even more covered with dust and soot than before. She attemptedto dust herself off, but it seemed like an almost impossible task.
    “I’ll have a preliminary report on your desk in the morning,” she promised.
    Lawrence tapped her on the shoulder, and when she looked at him