Читать книгу Firestorm - Kelly Riley Ann - Страница 11

Kitty shoved Tanner away, her heart pounding. “Do you always sneak up on people, or is it just me you enjoy scaring?”

Tanner’s amused expression vanished. “Excuse me, but this is my office. If anyone was sneaking, it was you.” He glanced at her fist. “Trying to steal something?”

“What?” Kitty’s mind whirled. His musky aftershave was playing havoc with her already strung-out nerves, but what befuddled her most was that she’d liked being in Tanner’s arms.

“What’s in your hand?”

“Oh.” She uncurled her fingers. “Fool’s gold. And I wasn’t stealing it. There’s tons of this useless stuff around here. You want it?” She tossed the rock to Tanner. “This probably came from my dad’s collection. He had a special liking for pyrite.”

He examined the specimen and handed it back. “Keep it.”

“Thanks.” Kitty shoved pyrite in her back pocket. “Too bad it’s not real gold.”

“I hear there are still gold mines in the mountains. My father likes to research local history.”

“Most of the mines have been abandoned. My great-great-uncle owned a small claim during the gold rush but never made much progress. Dad said the tunnel eventually collapsed.” She glanced around the office. “Why is everything on the floor?”

He cocked a hip on the desk, blocking the exit. “I thought maybe you could tell me.”

The implication of his words hit her, and she sucked in a deep breath. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“You still have a key, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She lifted her palms toward the ceiling. “But anyone in the department could get in here.”

“Johnson said you had a temper. Smashed the window at the café.”

“I was eleven. Give me a break. Besides, whoever opened these cabinets must’ve used a crowbar. If I had a key, why would I bother?” She shoved a drawer shut with her knee.

“Don’t touch anything.”

“If the sheriff’s going to look for fingerprints, he already has a copy of mine and no, you don’t need to know why. For the record, Mr. Fire Chief, I stayed in the cabin all night.” Kitty wrapped her arms over her chest. “You seriously don’t think I’d vandalize the office.”

Tanner’s dark eyes studied her, and then he sighed. “It crossed my mind, but no, I don’t. What were you looking for?”

“Just my dad’s personal items from the desk. I know I should’ve picked the stuff up after the funeral, but I had to get back to work.”

“You should’ve asked permission first. This is an open criminal investigation. You have no right being in here, especially without my permission.”

“You invited me, remember?” She mentally counted to ten. “But you’re right. I could’ve waited until you returned.” She forced a bright smile. “Last night you said I could see the evidence you’d found.”

“Nice try, but as I recall, I said you could stop by and answer some questions before you headed for home.”

Kitty leaned toward him, still smiling. “Read my lips, Tanner. I’m not leaving until you drop the case against my dad. You’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Was your dad as stubborn as you?”

“More.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Tanner muttered, moving to the valley wall map. “I consulted with Sheriff Johnson this morning, and he agreed you might provide some useful insight. Think you can handle being objective?”

She squared her shoulders. “I’m Sam’s daughter, bred and trained to be tough.”

He looked unconvinced but proceeded. “Let’s get to it then. I have a lot of work today.” He tapped the map. “As you know, Wildcat Ravine is where the fire started. Your father’s truck was found here in the parking area, singed but luckily not burned. We found kerosene traces in the cargo area.”

“So?” Kitty moved closer so she could see. “That’s not unusual. My father ran a furnace business. People still use kerosene lamps and heaters in the more remote areas. Sometimes he made deliveries while out doing surveillance.”

“We found a canister tossed in the woods.”

“Where, exactly?”

“Top of the falls.” He pointed to the spot where someone had shoved a pushpin.

“Any fingerprints?”

He shook his head. “Burned off.”

“Anyone could’ve left a canister. It might’ve been there before the fire. The Bronco is a department vehicle and used by other personnel.”

“But not everyone smokes cigars.”

Kitty’s stomach clenched, remembering what Evan had mentioned about her dad being careless. “Again, it could’ve been someone else. He was giving up cigars.”

“Apparently not soon enough. DNA from the saliva on the butt matches his. The cigar had fallen among the rocks, near where he….”

“Fell.” She swallowed hard. “But the cigar could’ve been dropped there another time. Wildcat Ravine was a favorite place of his, yet another reason he wouldn’t have started a fire. If he saw smoke he’d go to investigate.”

“No one knew he was up there. There’s no record he called the fire in.”

“Maybe he didn’t have a chance to,” Kitty said with a sinking feeling as she remembered Tanner’s words from the previous evening. The only logical explanation would be that he was up there before the fire started. But…why hadn’t he called in the report on his radio?

She shook off the first tentacles of doubt and crossed her arms. “You don’t have much of a case. There are no witnesses and the cigar is circumstantial evidence. What aren’t you telling me?”

Tanner turned from the map, his gaze meeting hers. “Did your father ever mention belonging to an organization called SOLO?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar. What’s it stand for?”

“Save Our Land Organization. Started as conservational group, but some of its extremist wackos decided the political channels were too bogged down and took matters into their own hands.”

“Go on,” she urged when he grew silent.

“In Colorado last summer, the federal government approved a petition to allow developers to build two new ski resorts in a protected area. When it comes to national forests, the government is allowed to trade acreage across the country as long as the total amount of protected acreage remains the same.” There was sharp edge to his voice. “The Colorado project was well under way when a fire swept through and burned everything to the ground. When they started building again, another fire was set. They caught a couple of the perps, but the leaders are still at large.”

Kitty perched on the desk’s edge and rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. “I remember the fires. Several firefighters died, but I don’t recall any talk about SOLO. Where’d you get your information?”

“I have my sources. The FBI is still investigating, so the media has been kept out of it,” Tanner said. “People touted the Colorado town as the new Aspen, and the ski resorts would’ve brought in a thousand jobs. But after the fires, the developers moved to a less risky area.”

“So now you think this group may have come here because the town is planning to expand the ski resort onto government land? Then, why suspect my father?” Another sickening thud hit her stomach. “You think he’s a SOLO extremist? That’s insane. He may have joined the organization to support their conservation efforts, like I’m sure many people have, but he’d never support the radical fringe.” She groaned in frustration. “Their whole purpose doesn’t make sense. Burn down the forest—kill trees and wildlife so people can’t develop the land? Crazy!”

“Common sense doesn’t stop people like them.” He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a creased index card. “Did your father ever mention any of these individuals?”

She scanned the list. “I recognize some, but I can’t believe any of these guys would be involved. My dad knew almost everyone in Pine Lake. Sure, he opposed the new ski resort in the beginning, but mainly because the runs were expanding into an area he cared about. But he’d never put his own personal beliefs above people’s safety.” She ran her finger over the section of the map where the hotel once stood. “You don’t believe me.”

“I believe in data, and right now the facts conflict.”

Kitty pushed off the desk. “You want data? Fine. Let’s get started then. There must be a clue somewhere in this mess.” She wiped her cold hands on her jeans and scrutinized the piles of paper. “We have a lot to do.”

“We?” He barked out a short, derisive laugh. “I’m sorry, there is no ‘we.’ The sheriff and I are still following up leads. I know it’s hard, but you’re just going to have to trust us to do our jobs.” His tone softened. “Why don’t you just go home to L.A., and I’ll be in touch with you in a couple days.”

She gazed out the window at the giant oak tree her father had refused to cut down to widen the parking area. It would be a relief to leave Pine Lake, but what would she tell her grandmother if they continued to believe her father was an arsonist? Kitty didn’t trust Tanner or Sheriff Johnson to be as thorough as she.

“I’m going to stick around for a while.”

Tanner frowned but didn’t appear surprised. “Well, I can’t force you to leave.” He moved toward the door. “Just be careful.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that today. Do you think I might be in danger?”

“Don’t you find it strange someone would call you about the case against your dad without identifying himself?”

“From this town? Are you kidding?” She laughed. “No offense, but an isolated place like this can attract odd people. You ask the Pine Lake residents why they moved to seven thousand feet where jobs are scarce and the nearest shopping mall is more than a hundred miles away, and you’ll get as many different answers as there are acorns in the oak tree out there.” She nodded meaningfully. “It takes effort to want to survive up here. A lot don’t stick it out through the first winter.”

Kitty scrutinized Tanner’s strong profile as he straightened a stack on his desk. She didn’t have any doubt that if this man wanted to stay in Pine Lake, he’d make it work. What was his story? Was he running away from something too?

“Just the same, watch your step. Don’t give the sheriff a reason to nail you for obstructing justice.”

Kitty grimaced. “Don’t worry, he’s not someone I want to spend time with.” She ran her palm over the scarred desk. “I have a question. Do you know if the stuff in this desk was moved before last night?”

“Whatever wasn’t confiscated as possible evidence is in my garage.” Tanner glanced at his watch. “I didn’t see anything valuable. Mostly paperwork. Letters, newspaper clippings, stuff like that. Why?”

Kitty chewed on her lower lip, debating whether to mention the notebooks, but she really wanted to read them before the sheriff and Tanner did. She shrugged. “You never know what might be useful.”

“I’ll get the boxes for you this afternoon.” He glanced at his watch. “Now, if we’re finished, I have to get to work.”

Kitty hesitated by the dusty window as Tanner’s footsteps faded into the bay. Near her Jeep, a pair of Steller’s jays squabbled over a bug on the concrete. The wind shook the tree branches, and with a burst of dark-blue feathers, the birds flashed by and disappeared.

She sighed, a restless yearning filling her heart. Much as she enjoyed her fast-paced life in Los Angeles, she missed the wild beauty of the Sierras. The sound of the wind in the trees instead of the bustle of traffic. Wildlife consisting of animals rather than human predators on the streets. And sweet air she could breathe with carefree abandon and not have to check the smog levels on the morning news. Not that she’d ever consider moving back. Not after the way they’d treated her. Too many narrow-minded people, some supposedly Christians, who’d snubbed her because of her sullenness and her poor choice of friends.

Maybe she’d deserved their criticism. She’d been confused and hurt after her mother had dumped her in Pine Lake with a father she barely knew. She’d lashed out at her anger and frustration by running wild with the wrong crowd for a few years.

But weren’t Christians supposed to forgive? Ten years spent living in Pine Lake and she’d felt like an outsider. Now, some of the same people were trying to smear her father’s name. But they hadn’t bested him in life, and she wouldn’t let them succeed after his death.

With renewed determination, she marched into the garage. Tanner was dragging a fire hose across the floor to fold the length in half, a tedious routine she knew well. Fire hoses needed to be cleaned, dried and put away after each use.

She trotted to the opposite end, knelt and snapped the upper hose so it stayed aligned with the lower half as Tanner rolled it into a coil larger than a bicycle wheel.

“Thanks,” he grunted. His shoulder bumped hers as the coil reached the brass fittings. He heaved the bundle onto a rack against the wall.

“This place needs a good scrubbing,” she said and grabbed another hose from the pile on the floor.

“We’re short-handed, and two structure fires last week didn’t give us much time to clean up.”

They continued to work in silence. Kitty’s mind wandered. How long ago had Tanner’s wife died? On their last day together, had Luke told his wife he loved her? Or did they part on angry words like she and her father?

She tugged her cell phone from her pocket. No messages. Not even a call from Nana. She glanced at Tanner. Did he ever feel lonely? Probably not, because his son and a father lived with him.

She steered her attention back to the chaos. However competent Tanner might’ve been on past jobs, obviously he was in over his head here.

“You need me.” Her voice echoed off the metal walls. She sat back on her heels, stunned she’d spoken that aloud.

Tanner looked up from examining a dent in a brass coupling. “Excuse me?”

Kitty’s cheeks warmed. “I mean, you could use some assistance.” She sprang to her feet and pushed open the tall bay doors. Sunlight streamed in, exposing even more mud on the floor.

“You need someone to sort through the mess in the office and clean out here. I’m a trained firefighter, so you might as well put me to use.”

“I can’t just let anyone handle those papers. There’s confidential medical information in there.”

She held up a hand. “Don’t worry—I worked here. Because I was just a paid-call employee, I bet Dad never removed me from the books. You can check, assuming you can find the personnel files. I’m legit.”

She yanked on a skinny water hose dangling from a pipe in the ceiling. She aimed the nozzle at the muddy concrete. The water stream hit a puddle of motor oil, and Tanner jumped before it splashed onto his boots and jeans.

“Sorry, but please pay attention.” Kitty released the handle. “Admit it, what I said makes sense. We can help each other.”

“Maybe I don’t want your help.”

She shrugged with indifference even though her pulse raced. “You might as well let me try. Otherwise, I’ll just have to tag around after you until I get what I need.”

“That’s harassment,” he said harshly, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

“Maybe.” She shrugged again and focused on washing ash and sludge off a long, beige hose. After several minutes passed, she blew out an impatient breath, ruffling her bangs. “Well?”

She turned and found herself alone. “Tanner?”

“I guess we could work out something.”

Startled, Kitty looked up to find him standing on the engine bed. He swung down beside her. “You won’t like working for me.”

Yes! She wanted to leap with victory, but she merely nodded. “I’ll survive.”

“I’m going to go fill out the duty roster for next week, and then I have some business in town.” He tossed a dingy sponge at her. “You can wash the engines. That ought to keep you out of trouble until I get back.”

Kitty picked up the sponge and wrinkled her nose as Tanner headed into the office. She would rather sort the files, searching for clues. Scrubbing the three fire engines and the brush truck would take at least two hours to do a proper job, but right now wasn’t the time to rock the boat. She was in. Ironic, though, because a few years ago she’d been dying to get out.

A siren blasted through the station. She ran toward the office in time to hear a female voice from the county Communication Center. “Station 169, Fire Investigation. Smoke reported on the south ridge below Pine Lake. Forest Service has been notified. Please verify.”

Tanner snatched up the radio mic. Kitty turned, raced out the bay doors and jumped into the driver’s seat of the red Bronco parked outside. She fired up the engine.

Tanner tapped on the window. He motioned at her to move, and when she wouldn’t budge, he yanked the door open. “Out!”

“I’m going. You just hired me, remember?”

His jaw tightened.

“I know a back way down the ridge. I can save you fifteen minutes,” she added.

“Move over.” He climbed in, his hard hip assisting her slide across the squeaky vinyl to the passenger side. Flipping on the red lights, he stomped on the pedal. Tires squealed as they shot out of the parking lot. “You’ve been an employee for what? Ten minutes? And you already think you can do whatever you want. I give the orders. You obey if you ever want to set foot inside the station again. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” Kitty pulled on her seatbelt instead of saluting. He’d probably toss her from the car without bothering to slow down if he knew what she thought about his “orders.”

They sped south of town. Kitty looked out her window to where the ground fell sharply away from the two-lane road before leveling out to a plateau and then plunged down a series of small canyons. A minuscule puff of smoke drifted skyward.

“Stop!” she yelled. Tanner jerked the steering wheel. The truck skidded off the pavement, spewing up a billow of dust. Kitty pointed at the faint haze far below them. “Down there. Smoke’s coming from the Fish Creek area.”

Tanner peered through his binoculars, looking grim. “The campground is supposed to be closed because of the fire danger.” He handed the binoculars to Kitty. Even with the magnification maxed out, she couldn’t pinpoint the source.

“The old logging road is fifty yards up on the right. See the marker lying on the ground?”

“Hang on.” Tanner shifted into four-wheel drive and plowed through brush before landing on the tire tracks that plummeted down the hill. Kitty clamped her rattling teeth together as they bounced over the ruts and washed-out gullies.

After two steep miles, they reached the two metal pipes marking the back entrance to the Fish Creek Camp. The chain gate snaked across the ground, and Tanner drove over it. A bluish haze hung over the clearing, but the small campground appeared deserted. The truck jerked to a stop. Kitty jumped out and ran to where the smoke seemed the thickest. Green pine branches smoldered over hot coals in a fire ring. The pungent smoke billowed about in the breeze, stinging her eyes and nose.

Tanner strode up, speaking into his handheld radio, giving their position to the Forest Service. Kitty scrambled up on a large boulder to get a better view. “Nothing but a campfire,” she reported. “All this will entail is issuing a ticket.”

Tanner snapped the radio into his belt holder. “To who? You see anyone?”

Kitty squinted in the bright sunlight, still scanning the area. “Nope. But they can’t be far. Those branches haven’t been burning long.”

“Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do. There are signs posted all around here warning against fires. One good wind and the whole mountain could go up in flames unless—”

“Unless that was their intention,” She finished for him, her stomach knotting. Her gaze swept the ridge. No dust clouds betrayed any moving vehicles. “We’re south of town, and the wind’s blowing north.”

“Doesn’t make sense they used the campground. If this were another arson attempt, why build a fire in the fire ring and attract attention by using green wood?”

“Who knows? Maybe they wanted to make it look like an accident. I’ll get the shovel.” Kitty trotted to the Bronco and dug the shovel out from under the piled equipment. She raced back to Tanner, panting in the oxygen-thin air.

She leaned against a tree to catch her breath as Tanner deftly extinguished the flames. Muscles rippled under his white shirt and a sooty shaft of sunlight struck his hair, making the waves gleam like polished black marble. He reminded her of a soldier on a mission. Confident and determined in the face of danger.

“You all right?”

“Huh?” She blinked, mortified that he’d caught her staring at him again. What was wrong with her? She’d come back from L.A. to prove what fools Tanner and the sheriff were being about her father. This man was supposed to be the enemy, but she kept acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Tanner frowned, still watching her. “Is the altitude bothering you?”

“Maybe,” she said, although she realized less oxygen wasn’t the only cause of her racing heart. Tanner was dangerous to her in more ways than just destroying her father’s memory.

She nodded in the direction of the campground entrance. “Isn’t the gate supposed to be locked?”

“Someone cut the padlock.” He threw another dirt load and smoke rose in a swirling cloud.

“No signs anyone’s pitched a tent here recently.”

“Most likely it was kids fooling around.” He stomped out the last burning ember. “They like to come down here to party.”

“Yes, I know,” Kitty said. She’d been part of that crowd before she’d smartened up and realized her ticket to freedom and out of Pine Lake wouldn’t come from carousing and landing in jail.

Tanner shot her an assessing glance before scanning the campground again. “We better look around before I call in an all clear.”

They separated and she scouted the east end where giant boulders and dense, thorny chaparral hemmed the campground. The wind had blown most of the heavy smoke from the campfire northward, but a dusky fog floated above a shallow ravine that dropped steeply away from the last campsite. Kitty skidded down the embankment. Gray wisps seeped out of the ground by a fallen log. She dug through the pine needles to discover a small hole. A steady ribbon of smoke streamed out.

Scrambling back up the hill, Kitty shouted, “Tanner, over here.” She waved her arms until he caught sight of her.

“Look at this,” she said after he joined her. She shoved the log over with her boot. Smoke billowed up through crannies in the rocky earth. Tanner used the shovel and unearthed a smoldering pile of twigs and dried leaves.

“Careful,” he warned as Kitty squatted and lifted a tin can out of a small pile of rocks. “Smells like lighter fluid.” She set the cylinder gently to the side.

“The log is soaked with something, too. Pretty clever delay device. Keep an eye on it. I have to go radio the sheriff. I can’t get a signal in the ravine. Here, blow this if you sense any trouble.” He handed her a whistle and climbed to the camp area.

Kitty spent the next several minutes systematically scouting the area as they’d trained her in class. No dropped litter, except a rusty soda can. Not even the baked ground revealed any tracks. No clues at all.

The minutes ticked by, and smoke curled from the log again. Arson. The thought sent alternating waves of fear and excitement through her. The same maniac who set the Wildcat Ravine could’ve struck again, which would prove her father innocent. But it also meant he could still out there, waiting to strike again.

The trees and brush grew too high up on the walls to provide much shade, and hot rays beat down on her head. Wisps of hair escaped her ponytail and stuck to her neck along with gritty dust, making her skin itch. She shooed away the tiny black gnats buzzing around her face as a pebble bounced down on the opposite ravine wall. Then another. Something moved along the ridge.

Clutching the shovel, she climbed the ravine edge, but she still couldn’t see over the dense chaparral thicket. Dry vegetation crunched. Her pulse quickened. Could it be an animal foraging for food? Or…had the arsonist returned to the scene of the crime?

She waved at Tanner, who stood by the truck, still conversing on the radio. He glanced in her direction and held up a finger, indicating he needed a minute. Behind her, the rustling noise grew fainter. She didn’t have a minute, and she couldn’t use the whistle he’d given her. By the time Tanner got here, whoever roamed back there would disappear.

As quietly as possible, Kitty jammed the shovel deep into the thick wall of thorny bush. Leaning forward, she could almost see through the leaves to the other side. Just another six inches and…was that a blue shirt? The shovel jerked, yanking her forward. She pitched over a rock and fell into the bush.