High Desert Detective, A Fiona Marlowe Mystery (Fiona Marlowe Mysteries) (10 page)

* * * * *

Jake sensed the flames before he saw them.

He had been tossing in bed, unable to sleep after the ride with
Fiona. Visions of her kept intruding upon his sleep. He threw back the covers
and sat on the side of the bed, scrubbing his face and cursing his luck at
having ever met Fiona Marlowe. He pulled on a pair of jeans and padded to the
kitchen looking for something to drink. There was a pitcher of iced tea in the refrigerator,
and he poured a glass. The night was still, and he was alone with his thoughts
that kept returning to Fiona.

He felt twitchy. There was a funny tension in the air. He had
lived here long enough to be in tune with what went on outside as well as inside
the house. He stepped onto the front porch and immediately saw the rose hue on
the knoll where Fiona’s old bunkhouse sat.

The front of the house was in flames.

“Opal,” he yelled, not sure if she would hear him since she slept
on the opposite side of the big house.
“Fire!”

He ran for his boots, then the axe that was kept by the fire
extinguisher by the front door, and yanked the fire extinguisher from its
cradle. He charged up the knoll. The nearest fire truck was at least an hour
away. Opal kept a slip-in unit for the pickup but that would take too much time
to mount on the truck and fill with water.

He had to find Fiona.

At the top of the knoll he searched the inferno before him for a
way to enter the building. The front was lost, flames leaping and dancing
everywhere. He didn’t hear her screaming for help or see any sign of her. Fear
exploded into every cell in his body. He ran for the back by way of the north
side where the flames were lower. He shouted her name every other second.

He looked in the north window to a curtain of dull red smoke. The
window was hot to the touch, and it was high enough off the ground he would
have to struggle through broken glass to gain entry if he axed it. Flames
danced across the roof. The heat was intense. The roar of the fire made his
shouts unintelligible. He rounded the back corner and saw smoke pouring out the
open door. He raced for the door and stopped to peer in.

Fiona was on the floor crawling toward the door, her computer
clutched in one arm.

He helped her the rest of the way out the door, but they couldn’t
stop there, the heat and smoke were too intense. He picked her up in his arms
and ran away from the burning building, stumbling over rocks and roots in his
haste. She held onto his neck with a death grip, her computer in the other arm.
When he was far enough away from the intense blaze, he stopped and set her on
the ground as gently as he could.

She started coughing, and he brushed her hair back from her face
so she could breathe easier. He had forgotten the cell phone so he couldn’t
call Opal to get help to put out the fire. He looked back at the bunk house. There
was no use calling anyone. The whole building was engulfed in flame. The roof
made a retching sound, and as they watched it caved in.

The bunkhouse was a total loss.

* * * * *

Fiona sat on the front porch of Opal’s house, wrapped in a
Pendleton blanket and nursing a glass of iced tea. The smell of smoke clung to
her clothes. She could taste it in her mouth. Her throat and lungs burned. But
she was unable to move from the chair to even shower.

She remembered trying to toss her suitcase out the back door. But
she couldn’t remember where it landed or if anything was in it. The computer
lay on the table beside the chair she sat on, the only one of her possessions
she was sure made it out of the burning bunkhouse. Her dreams for the bunkhouse
were gone. Her mind couldn’t grasp the idea.

The dawn was chilly as the sky lightened to the east, but she
didn’t feel any chill. All she felt was numb.

Opal had rallied the ranch hands, Ruben Sweet and Tommy Hide, but
by the time they had installed the slip-in tank on the back of the truck and
filled it from the well, the fire had consumed the building. It was a smoldering
heap.

Jake and the hands had watered down the ground around the house
with a system of sprinkler hoses, worried that the sparks would set the big
house on fire. The draw of water was too much for the pump, and it had burned
out. Jake was in the pump house fixing the pump so they’d have water again.

What a disaster. Her house-in-the-country dreams had gone up in a
rage of smoke and flames. This was beyond anything she could ever have
imagined. If it hadn’t been for Jake she would not be alive. He had said he
couldn’t sleep and had a funny feeling. Thank heaven for second sight.

Opal came out of the house to sit by her on the love seat. She
was still in her night clothes which involved baggy old sweats that had seen a
thousand washings.

“How are you?” Opal said. “I’m worried about smoke inhalation. We
should take you in to the hospital so they can check you over.”

“Jake said he’d take me later. Right now I can’t move. I’ll be
okay.”

“But you don’t know. You need to get yourself checked.”

“Who’s that coming?” Fiona said, her attention drawn to a dust
cloud in the road.

“Maybe Rosemary.
That looks like her
rig. If it is, Esme will be with her. They’re always together.”

The rig pulled up in front and stopped. Rosemary and Esme got out,
armed with plastic grocery bags.

“Fiona, we are so sorry,” said Rosemary. “We came as soon as we
heard and brought you some clothes because someone said you lost everything.”

They dumped the stuffed plastic bags at Fiona’s feet like
offerings to a goddess. Fiona was overwhelmed with the kindness and buried her
face in her hands.

Rosemary hunkered down beside her.
“Hey, gal.
You just cry yourself silly. That’s an awful thing happened. You’ll be
surprised how much better you’ll feel if you just cry it out.”

Esme looked toward the smoldering knoll. “That is amazing. What
could have caused it? There’s nothing up there to set a fire except maybe the
little propane stove. There weren’t any storms in the area last night.”

Opal said, “She wasn’t cooking. She said she was working on her
computer, and she heard noises, and the next thing she knew the place was in
flames.”

“Someone set that fire,” said Rosemary. “I just know it. It
wasn’t any ghost either.”

“It’s mighty suspicious how quick it went,” said Opal.

“Is anyone going to investigate?” said Esme.

“Hoover is on his way,” said Opal. “He’ll get to the bottom of
this. Someone set that fire.”
 

Jake came around the side of the house, wiping his hands on a
rag. “I got the pump working. You should have water in the house. Fiona can
shower.”

She used the blanket to wipe away her tears. “Sorry, I don’t know
what came over me.”

“I do,” Jake said. “You had a brush with death. That’s a crying
situation if you ask me.”

She looked at him. “Thank you for coming to the rescue.” The
smile she managed didn’t do justice to how she felt. “I wouldn’t have made it
if you hadn’t helped me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she covered her
face with her hands.

Jake moved to place a hand on her shoulder then stroked her hair.
He didn’t say anything.

Rosemary cleared her throat like she was about to cry herself. “Let’s
get you cleaned up. You’ll feel better.”

“Yes,” said Opal, “we need to take her into town to have her
checked over at the hospital. She could have lung damage.”

“I’ll take her,” said Jake. “You gals help Fiona. I’ll clean up get
the boys started on the day’s chores.”

Fiona said, “Could someone see if any of my clothes made it out
the door? I tried to toss them out. I don’t know where anything landed.”

“I’ll go look,” said Esme. “I’ll see what I can find.”

Jake helped Fiona into the house. Her muscles were sore, and she
was so shaky from the ordeal she could barely walk. She was thankful for the
support of these wonderful people. Beyond that she couldn’t think and didn’t
care.

* * * * *

By the time she had showered and shampooed, Rosemary had put
together an outfit for her to wear from the clothes they brought, which
involved jeans and a long sleeve western cut blouse. She felt somewhat restored
but her throat was sore, and her head ached. Esme found some of her clothes
scattered across the sagebrush and rocks at the back of the bunk house, and she
had found her purse which Fiona didn’t remember throwing out the door. Her cell
phone worked because her friend, Olympia, called as she was going through the
contents of her purse which doubled as an emergency preparedness kit. Olympia
had plenty of news to report, and she launched in before Fiona could put her
thoughts together.

“My latest title hit the New York Times bestseller list at No. 1.
Isn’t that thrilling, Fiona? I’m so thrilled. Aren’t you thrilled?” She didn’t pause
for a reaction but gushed on. “I finished my next novel and sent it off to my
agent and editor. They are thrilled with it. They say it is another No. 1 best
seller for sure. It’s in production. Isn’t that thrilling, Fiona? I’m ready for
a vacation, and I’m coming to see you, aren’t you thrilled? I bought plane
tickets to Portland, and I’ll be there tomorrow. Fiona? You aren’t saying
anything.”

Fiona sighed. Sometimes she needed a strong drink to deal with Olympia,
and it was too early in the day. “Olympia, how many times have you been on a
best seller list?”

“Hundreds, dear.
Hundreds and hundreds, maybe
thousands, but every time is like the first time.” She let go with a huge
guffaw that usually got Fiona going but not today.

“Fiona? What is wrong? Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Tell me what is wrong this instant.”

“Everything.”

“Don’t you
worry.
I’m coming out to see
your new place, and we’ll kick back and have ourselves a great time. It will be
just like margaritas on the beach in Australia.”

“Olympia, will you please slow down? There is no house. It burned
down. And Portland is nowhere near Rocky Point.”

“I’ll rent a car and drive. You know how I love to drive. I’ll
find you.” She paused. “What do you mean the house burned down?”

“Just what I said.
It’s a long story. I
got to go. Talking makes my throat hurt. I’m going to the hospital to get
checked out.”

“What? What hospital?”

“I’ll tell you the whole sad tale when you get here.”

“Wait. One more question. What about Mr. Hunky?”

“He’s alive and well. Good thing. He’s the one who rescued me.”

Five

Jake sat in the emergency room waiting area with Fiona, holding
her slender hand in his tough skinned one. She looked dazed but beautiful. He touched
her dark, shiny hair, and she smiled at him. He didn’t know what to say. He
wasn’t good at this kind of thing.

“Would you like coffee?” he asked her, wanting to say something,
anything to communicate with her to try to take the dazed look from her eyes.

“Sure.” Her voice was hoarse. She could barely get past a whisper.

He came back with two cups of coffee and handed her one. She took
it with a small smile. His heart warmed his lips into a smile. They sat in
silence, waiting her turn. A young mother tried to quiet her crying child. An
old couple sat stoically, the man’s face pinched and drawn.

Finally, Fiona said in a hoarse whisper, “What am I going to do?”

“Rebuild,” said Jake, not missing a beat. He sensed that had to
be the big question on her mind. “That old place wasn’t worth fixing up. I
never liked it anyway.”

“All I have is a burned piece of ground, a burned tree and a pile
of rubble.” She sighed over a sip off coffee.

He didn’t want to say she was feeling sorry for herself because
she had every right to be. He tried to cast a positive light on the situation.
“Look at it this way. Be glad none of the repair work had started. You aren’t
out that. The spot has a great view. You can do something interesting with it.
You’re talented.”

She sighed again and couldn’t seem to muster the energy to talk.

A nurse came through the door. “Miss Marlowe? Come this way,
please.”

Fiona followed the nurse inside. Even her walk was forlorn. He waited,
finished his coffee, wondering what to do. He was as much at a loss as Fiona.
He was glad her friend, Olympia, was coming. That would cheer her up. He rose
to get another cup of coffee in the waiting area of the new, fancy hospital
that had recently opened. Everything smelled new, including the coffee.

Sheriff Hoover came through the automatic doors, looked around,
saw Jake and came over. He helped himself to coffee.

“That gal’s had a bad time of it, hasn’t she?”

Jake nodded over the brim of his cup. “Did you find anything?”

“Nate is over there now going through the rubble. I looked around
and picked up some charred pieces of wood from the front of the house. If the
fire was deliberately set, we’ll find what they set it with. My guess is that
it was gasoline and a match. Do you have any idea who would do that?
 
Fiona hasn’t been here long enough to make
enemies unless Suzie’s jealous of you and Fiona.” Hoover’s lips twitched.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Suzie isn’t stupid. Maybe jealous, but not
stupid. I heard you and her been seen together around town.”

Hoover chuckled and shook his head. “We’re just friends. Anything
between us is long over by now. Fiona, however, is something else.”

Jake eyed Hoover. “Just what does that mean?”

Hoover shrugged. “She’s pretty. Too bad you saw her before I
did.” Hoover pulled a slow grin.