Dead giveaway.

“Morning,” Joe said, and reached into his car to bring out another can of Red Bull.

Braden eyed the can, then Joe. “You waited out here for who knows how long to offer me a kick of caffeine that tastes like cow piss?”

“I don’t think it tastes like cow’s piss. At least not if it’s good and cold.” With a shrug, Joe opened the can himself. What the hell. “And for your information, I waited out here—for two hours, thanks for asking—to find out what the hell you think you’re doing, skipping town right now.”

Braden lifted a shoulder. “What’s wrong with right now?”

Joe took a long sip of the drink. Between realizing he’d done the unthinkable and moved Summer in with him, then getting no sleep while he sat in his office staring at the files of the fires, and now all this caffeine, he’d be lucky if poof, his head just didn’t explode right off his shoulders. “Leaving now makes you look guilty. You know that.”

Braden eyed him for a beat. “Makes me look guilty, or makes me guilty period?”

“Semantics.”

Braden cocked his head. “Are you here to arrest me for something?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

Braden closed his eyes. Swallowed once. “Don’t fuck with me.”

“Actually, that was going to be my line to you. I interviewed you after the warehouse fire. After the store fire. Both times I could tell you were nervous and I asked you point blank if there was something I needed to know. You said no.”

“I stick by that.”

“All right.” Joe opened his clipboard. “You have a record. I pulled it.”

“How did you—”

“You used the same Social Security number for your alias, so they’re linked at the DMV. Not smart.”

Braden’s mouth tightened.

“Does Chloe know your real name is Brian?”

No answer.

“How about that you’re an alcoholic?”

“Recovering. I haven’t had a drink in eighteen months.”

“You have proof of that? Or the fact that you supposedly haven’t smoked?”

Braden looked at Chloe’s condo.

Joe sighed. “Does she know any of it?”

“She doesn’t know anything about me other than what she’s seen. I wanted that.”

Joe knew all about wanting to be impenetrable. Unbreakable. What he didn’t know was if Braden’s reason was legal or not. “We want to search your place.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I just showed you all my size eleven-and-a-half shoes so you could check for traces of gasoline?”

Joe looked at him for a long moment. They’d let everyone know about the size eleven-and-a-half prints found at the fires. What they hadn’t said was that the prints were a work boot, not a shoe.

So was Braden innocent, or just very, very good?