Wildfire (14 page)

Chapter
13

Fires. Fires everywhere. The entire countryside pockmarked
by bonfires.

What had woken her this time? A noise? Did the phone ring?
She forced herself to lie still, listening. Seconds slid into minutes and
seemed like eternity. Nothing, except for the loud ticking clock.

Dreams or warning? Unease tingled under her skin like the
buzz of an electric shock.

Lynn kicked off the sweat-dampened covers and swung her legs
to the floor.
Serenity. Courage. Wisdom.
She’d repeat the mantra for as
long as it took to fight off the fear. She pushed her fingers through her hair
and glanced at the bedside clock. Three freaking a.m. Again. She closed her
eyes and groaned, knowing sleep wouldn’t come.

Hugging herself, Lynn decided to walk around the house,
double checking the windows and doors. Uneasiness reverberated inside her as
she made her way through the dark, silent house. Dragon genes made it easy for
her to see, but nothing undue caught her attention. Yet she was aware of a
presence. A large, dark presence hovering on the edge of her mind.

She stood undecided on the threshold of the back door. Part
of her wanted to run back and dive under warm, safe covers. Another part
tensed, determined to face an unknown adversary. She had vowed to stop the
rogue and she would. Huffing out a breath, Lynn grabbed her backpack, unlocked
the door and stepped onto the dew-wet grass.

An unnatural silence greeted her. She cocked her head this
way and that, listening. Why weren’t the cicadas and katydids singing their
night songs? It wasn’t cold enough yet to kill them off. Lifting her face to
the full moon, she sniffed. No tell-tale smell of smoke.

She glanced about her, searching.

Brilliant stars glittered in the dark velvet sky. Night in
the countryside, without any artificial lights, was breathtaking. But tonight a
sense of danger edged her wonder. Perhaps it was nothing but her paranoia.
Still, no harm in an aerial patrol. She stripped off her PJs and stuffed them
into her backpack, shouldered the straps, and stood naked under the moonlight.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing. As her
muscles relaxed, Lynn cleared her mind of niggling worry and called the dragon.
The change rushed through her veins, charging her with its energy, renewing her
essence. Power filled her limbs and cells as she took on dragon form.

Lynn coiled her muscles into a tight bunch and leapt toward
heaven. Her powerful wings flapped until they caught the wind and rode. She
decided to circle all of Paradise Valley. Thinking of the strange homeless man
she’d encountered twice, she headed for the derelict hotel.

When she reached it, darkened windows stared like unseeing
eyes. Nothing moved. Again a whiff of anger and dragon musk tinged the air. She
circled the building twice, peeking into windows. Bodies huddled together or
curled up alone on dirty floors.

Shifting with the wind, Lynn changed direction, skated
higher, and continued on her patrol. The beauty of dark land and shimmering
river glimpsed through a constantly-shifting veil of gray clouds soothed her.
She stretched her neck, spread her wings as far as she could, and gave in to
the exhilaration.

Lynn gazed below at the dark, clustered rectangles she
identified as buildings and landmarks around town. She passed several spires
and crosses, naming each church under her breath. She hoped none of the
townspeople were awake. What wild tales might flourish if someone caught her
silhouetted against the silver moon?

She scanned both the skies and the land beneath. Wariness rode
between her shoulders and drove her forward. A movement far below caught her
attention. Lynn hovered in the air, her gaze fixed on the shadows. A pickup
shot out of the darkness. Even though the headlights were turned off, its body
gleamed ghostly pale in the silver moonlight.

A breath hissed out of her. Someone else seemed to be awake.
Someone who didn’t want to be too obvious about his or her whereabouts. Could
it be the arsonist? She tracked the vehicle from above as it weaved between
buildings, through shadow and light. Once the pickup left the town environment
and hit the open road, it became a lot easier to follow. She paced herself to
match the truck’s speed.

When it passed Jen’s house, Lynn hazarded a guess. Jack’s
home was next. Could the unknown driver be headed there? Could it be Jack or
was it someone who wanted to hurt Jack? With a burst of adrenaline, she shot
forward and raced ahead. Her heart zipped.

The ranch house and its surroundings stood still and dark.
She dropped down into the trees edging the property, hoping Cannon wasn’t
running loose. Breathing ragged, she waited a few minutes. No barking, leaping,
licking dog attack. She shifted.

Lynn cursed as she dug through her backpack. She’d forgotten
to pack a new change of clothes after the last time. Shit. Shivering in the
chilled night, she changed back into her pajamas. Then, hidden in the trees and
bushes, she crept closer to the house, squatted in the shadows. Lynn fidgeted
to keep the blood circulating in her limbs. Pins and needles would not only be
annoying, but a damned hindrance if she needed a quick escape.

The soft rumble of the diesel engine thrummed in the air.

The pickup pulled into her view and parked. Lead cold
betrayal dragged through her as she recognized the vehicle. She scuttled
forward, carefully parted some of the branches with her fingers and peered
through. The door opened and the overhead light inside the cab lit Jack’s face.

A dull ache spread inside her. Where had he been this late?
And why was he driving around without headlights at night?

Her eyes and nose burned, heralding tears. What the hell?
She’d expected this development. Or at least should have. Jack was a suspect.
Just a suspect. Nothing more. Now he was even more suspect.

What she hadn’t expected was her own reaction. Somewhere
along the way she’d started to think, hope, he’d be a good guy.

She shook her head to clear away the emotional jam and
realized he’d already disappeared inside. Annoyance and curiosity quivered
inside her. For half a second, she considered hammering on the door and
demanding answers. A quick glance at her outfit changed her mind.

What if Jack had a plausible reason for being out and about?
How the hell would she then explain her lurking in his bushes in the early
morning hours in hot pink Tinker Bell pajamas?

Turning away from the house, she looked up. A faint
lightness smudged the dark. Dawn approached fast. No time to wallow in
what-ifs.

Lynn had just slipped back into Jen’s house and locked the
door, when the phone rang. Unease bubbled in her gut. Early morning calls
didn’t often bring good news. A mad dash later, she snagged the receiver before
a second ring. “Hello.”

“You owe me.” The familiar dark whisper made her stomach
roil.

“Who is this?”

“I took care of your problem.”

“What are you talking about?”

A soft chuckle. “You’ll know soon enough.”

The call ended. Icicles formed along her spine, chilled her
to the core. Lynn dropped the phone back to its cradle and paced. Who was this
caller? Was it Jack? Her heart stopped.

What had he done? What did he want? She pressed her hand to
her lips. Did he know about the dragon?

The radio beeped and crackled in the kitchen. Heart
pounding, Lynn ran toward the noise. A door slammed and footsteps thumped
behind her. She and Jen careened to the radio just as it announced a five-alarm
structure fire at the Range Hotel.

Chapter
14

The fire department was winning, but it was too late for the
building. The early morning light revealed a burned out hull— all smoking wood
and blackened bricks, a mausoleum, surrounded by pools of water.

Lynn took a deep breath. The sharp stink of charred wood cleared
her head, reminded her she was on the job. Hernandez would definitely want this
story. She snatched a pen and pad from her backpack and took notes.

Jen had set up her station and was busy handing out water
and cookies to the homeless. Lynn picked out Anderson by his trademark Stetson
hat and Roberts stood next to him. Both men watched the fire, their backs to
her. Like it or not, she’d have to try for an official quote. See if she could
find out the cause of the fire.

An October chill had finally set in. She zipped her jacket
to the neck and made her way toward them.

“Too bad they let this building turn into a dump,” Anderson
said.

Roberts shook his head. “Lit up like fireworks.”

“Dry wood, trash brought in by the homeless,” Anderson said.
“Nothing but fuel. Add cigarettes and make-shift fires to that… Boom.”

A man clutching a leather satchel jogged up to them. “Sorry,
I was in the middle of a foaling when the call came.”

“Poor sod’s beyond help, but glad you’re here,” Anderson
said. “Come on, let me take you in.”

Lynn hurried up to Roberts. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Jim Grayson. He’s a local vet and the precinct
Justice of the Peace.”

“Justice of the Peace?”

Roberts jerked a handkerchief out from his jacket and wiped
his sweaty face. “He’ll officially pronounce the man dead.”

Dread choked her. Lynn couldn’t make a sound. She swallowed
and tried again. “Dead? They found a body?”

Roberts nodded. Grim weariness lined his face.

“Who?”

“A homeless guy who’d been camping out here like the rest.”
Robertson glanced around at the group crowding Jen’s station wagon. “Unlike the
others, he didn’t make it out.”

Her heart fluttered in her throat. She wondered if it was
the same homeless guy she’d been seeing around. She turned and searched the
crowd. No sign of the man.

Roberts rubbed his hands together and blew on them. “I spoke
to the guy a few days ago.”

“You knew him. I’m sorry.”

Roberts let out a short, joyless laugh. “Can’t say I knew
him, but we’d spoken. He spun me quite a tale.”

“What’d he say?”

Roberts looked at her, a wistful smile on his lips. “He
claimed he saw a dragon.”

Her heart plummeted. What? When? How? A dark whisper echoed
through her head,
I took care of your problem
. She licked her lips.
“Huh. So, what started the fire here?”

“We think the guy must have got drunk and fallen asleep
while smoking.” The sheriff sighed. “We found empty liquor bottles and
cigarette butts around the body.”

Cigarette butts again. Guilt bellyached inside her. A man
was dead, she should tell the police about the cigarette butts she’d found.
“Are they the same brand that you found at Jen’s?”

“Can’t comment. It’s an ongoing investigation.”

“Thanks for what you did share.” She unzipped her back pack
and dropped her pad and pen inside. Her hand lingered, touching the plastic bag
hidden within. The sheriff wouldn’t be happy about her poking around.

She zipped the bag and turned away. Took a few steps. What
if the butts she’d collected could help catch the guy doing all this? What if
it could have prevented this death?

A breeze played with her hair, brought the scent of smoke to
her. Lynn whipped around and marched back to the sheriff.

He watched her, a quizzical look on his face.

Her fingers hurried to outrun her doubts. Lynn pulled the
evidence bag out and held it out to Roberts. “Do these match any of the
cigarettes you found?”

He stared at the bag like she was holding a live scorpion.
“Where did you get this?”

“I was driving by Jack Callaghan’s house and I thought I saw
somebody skulking among the shrubs.” The words ran out like water from a leaky
faucet. “So I went back later and investigated. I just took a few, there’s more
there by the bushes in the front.”