Part 31 (1/2)

Ry decided he'd been polite long enough, and took out a cigarette.

He lit it, flipped the match into a spotless crystal ashtray. ”I'd say anybody who makes captain on the force should be able to figure that out for himself.”

Gage smothered a laugh with a cough as Boyd's eyes narrowed.

”Natalie's not a tossaway,” Boyd said carefully.

”I know what she is,” Ry returned. ”And I know what she isn't. If you want to grill someone on what's going on between us, Captain, you'd better start with her.”

Boyd considered, nodded. ”Fair enough. Give me a rundown on the arson investigation.”

That he could, and would, do. Ry related the sequence, the facts, his own steps and conclusions, answering Boyd's terse questions with equal brevity.

”I'm betting on Clarence,” he finished. ”I know his pattern, and how his warped mind works. And I'll get him,” he said, and blew out a last stream of smoke. ”That's a promise.”

”In the meantime, Natalie needs to beef up security.” Boyd's mouth thinned. ”I'll see to that.”

Ry tapped out his cigarette. ”I already have.”

”I was talking about personal security, not business.”

”So was I. I'm not going to let anything happen to her,” he continued as Boyd studied him. ”That's another promise.”

Boyd let out a snort. ”Do you really think she'll listen to you?”

”Yeah. She's not going to get a choice.”

Boyd paused, reevaluated. ”Maybe I'm going to like you after all,

Inspector.”

”Okay, break it up,” Deborah ordered as she wheeled in a cart laden with a huge silver coffee urn and Meissen china. ”I know you're talking shop.”

Gage rose to take the cart from her and kiss her. ”You're just mad because you might have missed something.”

”Exactly.”

''Jacoby,'' Boyd tossed at her. ”Clarence Robert. Ring any bells?''

Her brow furrowed as she poured coffee. ”Jacoby. Also known as Jack Jacoby?” She served Boyd, took another cup to Ry. ”Skipped bail a couple of years ago on an arson charge.”

”I like your wife,” Ry said to Gage. ”There's nothing quite like a sharp mind in a first-cla.s.s package.”

”Thanks.” Gage poured a cup for himself. ”I often think the same.”

”Jacoby,” Deborah repeated, focusing on Ry. ”You think he's the one?”

”That's right.”

”We'd have a file on him.” She glanced at her husband. The computers in Gage's hidden room could access everything about Jacoby, right down to his shoe size. ”I'm not sure who had the case, but I can find out on Monday, see that you get whatever we have.”

”I'd appreciate it.”