Gabriel stared up at him as he came through the doorway. The man had to be coming from work—or maybe he just wore a suit all the time. Even though it was after six on a Friday, his shirt looked pressed, his tie straight and tightly knotted.

His expression was all business. Gabriel had no idea how to take that.

He also had no idea what he was doing here.

Mr. Forrest set a briefcase on the table and unlocked the clasps. “You know,” he said by way of greeting, “the night I caught you with Layne, I called you a future felon. I didn’t realize you’d make good on that prediction so quickly.”

“The night you dragged Layne out of my driveway, I called you an asshole. Guess we were both right.”

A smile, but it looked a little vicious. “Normally I’d tell you to call me David, but given the circumstances, I think we can stick with Mr. Forrest.”

“Don’t tell me. You’re the lawyer for the other side.”

“That’s not quite how this works.”

Then Gabriel remembered her father’s original threat from that first night, and realized this guy might be here to add more fuel to the fire. He shoved out of his chair. “Hey, I never did anything to Layne! If you told them I—”

“I’m glad to hear it. That’s not why I’m here.” Mr. Forrest eased into the opposite chair and pulled a legal pad out of his briefcase.

Gabriel watched him, perplexed. “Then what are you doing?”

A silver-plated pen came out of the briefcase next. “What have you told them so far? Please tell me you haven’t signed anything.”

“Wait.” After the news about the pentagrams, Gabriel’s brain couldn’t wrap itself around this. “What?”

An eyebrow rose. “What. Have. You. Told. Them—”

“Shut up. What are you really doing here?” Gabriel hesitated. “Did my brother hire you?”

“No. He didn’t. He and I have spoken, however.”

“So, what, you’re just going to make sure I get locked up? I didn’t start those fires.”

That vicious smile again. “It doesn’t really matter if you did or not.”

“It sure seems to matter to everyone else.”

“Not to me. I help people who ‘didn’t do it’ all the time.”

Wait a minute. “Are you saying you’re here to help me?”

“I’m going to try.”

Gabriel didn’t trust him. “Maybe I don’t want your help.”

“They have several fires, a dead firefighter, and an eyewitness. Not to mention motive, a prior record, and a bedroom full of lighters. You want my help.”

Gabriel frowned and looked away.

Mr. Forrest leaned back in his chair, spinning the pen between his fingers. “Did you really help Simon get a starting position on the basketball team?”