Wildfire (19 page)

Lynn huddled next to Jen. Even though the fire had been put
out and the immediate danger had passed, grief weighed her down. She glanced at
Jack, standing next to Tavistock like a bodyguard.

His gaze collided with hers. Was he responsible for Elsie’s
death? Confusion and anger drifted into her soul as he held her attention. When
he blinked and looked away, she swallowed. Had the arsonist followed her too?
How much had he seen? Was Jack the crazy rogue? The rogue had killed Elsie, and
almost killed Tavistock. Her guts fisted. She needed to talk with Jack.

As the Paradise Valley VFD vehicles pulled out, two other
sheriff’s department cars, an ambulance, a station wagon and a green Chevy suburban
arrived on the scene.

“What’s going on?”

Jen nodded at the new vehicles and identified everybody for
her: the Criminal Investigations detective, the Crisis Intervention Unit
volunteer, emergency medical technicians, the JP and the body transporter,
respectively.

“They are going to transport the body in a suburban?” Lynn
asked. “Don’t they have to use an ambulance or a hearse?”

Jen shook her head. “Anything that can fit a body will do,”
she said. “And the transporter the county contracts with happens to drive a
suburban.”

Lynn watched in silence as the techs loaded a black body bag
into the suburban.

Tavistock let out an anguished cry. “No, Elsie! Elsie! Don’t
take my Elsie away!” he cried. The old man leapt forward, his thin body wracked
by heaving sobs.

Gritting his teeth, Jack grabbed the old rancher in an
awkward one-armed hug and forced him away from the body and the smoking house.
The crisis intervention officer, a soft, round-faced woman, stepped forward and
helped lead Tavistock back to the ambulance. One of the EMTs stepped forward
and handed Jack a blanket. He wrapped it around the sobbing man. “Oh, Amos,
Amos,” he said.

The EMTs took over. They’d give Tavistock something to calm
down. Jack and the CIU volunteer stepped away from the ambulance.

“Well, he’s going to the West Texas Regional Hospital right
now, but after the next few days…I need to call around to the Salvation Army
and other places,” she sighed. “He’ll need a place to stay temporarily. Too bad
he doesn’t have any family.”

Jack looked back at the lost old man surrounded by busy med
techs. “Well, he’s got friends,” he said. “I have got room at my house. He’s
more than welcome to stay, if that’s okay with y’all. And I’ll look into
nursing homes.”

The CIU volunteer looked visibly relieved. “That’s mighty
good of you.”

Jack nodded and mentally added, for a Callaghan. Shame
pinched him. The woman hadn’t said that. Stop imagining more trouble than there
already exists. He touched the brim of his hat in goodbye and turned away.

A yawn escaped him as he flexed and stretched his aching
muscles. Damn, he was tired. He looked around and caught Lynn watching him. A
tightness gripped his chest.
Lynn.
Emotions surged through him. His
heart had almost stopped when he’d heard Jen screaming for help, seen Lynn and
Amos lying so still on the ground, near Elsie wrapped up in bed covers. What
the hell had she been thinking? Putting herself in danger like that was
irresponsible. Amazing. Incredibly stupid. So very brave. A need to touch her,
reassure himself she was okay, overwhelmed him. Damn, he should walk away.
Instead he stalked toward her.

Danger
. The dragon inside Lynn coiled and tensed. The
fury shading Jack’s face made her want to fight or flee, but instead she stood
her ground and waited. Good, she wouldn’t have to chase him down.

He stopped in front of her, glowering. “What the hell were
you thinking going into that burning building?”

“You guys were thinking and arguing, I decided to do
something,” Lynn said. Wait a wasabi second. She should be the one asking
questions.

“We might have had to rescue three people instead of two,”
Jack said. His voice shook with rage, and…she almost thought worry.

“Well, you didn’t,” Lynn shot back. “In fact, you guys
didn’t need to rescue anybody thanks to me.” God, she sounded like a
self-important brat. The man threw her off her game.

“You could have been hurt. You could have died in there and
no one would have known.” His voice cracked.

Did he really care? This was too weird. She looked away,
then back. Her eyes met Jack’s anguished ones. “How could this happen?”

A breath leached out of Jack. “Elsie’s health started
failing and apparently she’s been in and out of depression. Amos said she set
the fire, took an entire bottle of sleeping pills and told him to get the hell
out.”

“Why?” She knew why because she’d heard the ugly whispers. She
wanted Jack’s reaction, his reason.

“She’d had enough, Amos tried to convince her otherwise,
but...” He shrugged. “Anyway, Amos said he’d respect her wishes but no way was
he going to let her die alone.” Jack’s face was ashen with shock and sadness.

Lynn looked down at the dirt and shook her head. “I didn’t
do too much. I saw him trying to drag her out and tried to help.”

“Yeah, Jen told us.”

“She still died.” The words burned her throat, left her
nauseous.

“You tried,” Jack said. “I feel so sorry for him.”

They stood in silence for a while. Lynn struggled to make
sense of the chaos around her. Should she believe Jack’s words, the sadness and
concern she sensed in him, or the gnawing suspicion growing in her gut?

“Were you first on the scene?” she asked.

He nodded, staring at the charred ranch house.

Lynn’s glance lingered on his sweaty, tired face. Would the rogue
look so broken? Could the crazy beast care about anyone? Either Jack was a
great actor or he had a split personality or something. Panic rattled through
her. Maybe the dragon controlled him.

“How did you get here so quick?” she pressed.

He glanced at her. “I was on my way home when I saw the
orange glow of the fire, so I headed for it.”

Where was he coming from this early in the morning? She
heard herself asking him the question.

He flushed. “I was out by the mermaid. I needed some
downtime to think about things.”

The mermaid statue on the banks of the Concho in downtown
San Angelo. He’d shown it to her during the tour. A romantic spot with the
river and trees. It all seemed a life time ago. What kind of things? She wanted
to ask, but didn’t. “Anybody see you there?”

His eyes narrowed at her. “Excuse me?”

Lynn forced herself to hold his gaze. Her heart pounded in
her chest. “Were there other people around the mermaid? Did you talk to
somebody?”

Jack shifted and planted his hands on his hips. His
shoulders stiffened. “You mean witnesses. Why? Do I need a lawyer?”

“You tell me.” Her heart thundered in her ears as she tossed
him a defiant glare. If he could prove he’d been at the mermaid, there’s no way
he could’ve been at the ranch whispering nonsense to Elsie. Her mouth dried as
she waited. She almost broke down and apologized as fast as she’d accused him,
but she couldn’t dismiss her suspicions so easily.

He stalked away from her, his stiff-legged gait kicking up
dust. Then he turned back and stopped inches from her. “You are a fine one to
point fingers. And speaking of fingers, when the hell were you going to tell me
about being engaged?”

Lynn stumbled back as if he’d hit her. What? How’d he find
out about Rob? A wave of nausea swept through her. Not that it mattered, of
course, because the engagement had been broken. Rob was no longer in the
picture, and Jack appeared to be her suspect. If so, he was on his way to jail.
She lifted her chin. “That’s none of your business.”

“I suggest you make it the next guy’s business.”

“What next guy?”

His expression hardened. “Henry. I saw you two dancing
together.”

“As did the rest of Paradise Valley.” She pushed her face
closer, so they stood nose to nose. “And I danced with you too. What of that?”

They glared at each other.

Then he grasped her face between his cold hands and pressed
his lips over hers.

A smothered yelp burst from her as she stumbled, but he held
on. A flash-fire second of panic, then his rich, male taste filled her mind.
Dark and smoky. Sexy as hell. His tongue explored her mouth, tangled with hers.
She shuddered, her thoughts melted in the heat of the kiss. She pressed back,
savored his essence, explored in turn. A throaty growl, deep with hunger and
yearning, rumbled through her and poured into him. He trembled against her.

When he shoved her face away from his and let go, Lynn could
only stand and pant as she stared at him. More, she wanted more.

His eyes darkened with anger and confusion. “You should have
told me. Somehow, at some point, you should have told me.”

Damn it, what was Jack’s game? Lynn dropped her gaze.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you about Rob.” She closed her eyes
and then opened them. “You didn’t have to declare your feelings by setting this
fire.”

“What?”

She shoved past him and took her turn pacing. “What do you
expect me to think? The attraction between us, then the phone call telling me
you wanted to be more than friends, that you’ve a surprise for me.” Lynn
stopped and stared at the smoking ruin of the ranch house. “How could you think
setting this fire would impress me?”

“I didn’t call you and I didn’t set this fire.” A cold, hard
glaze settled on his face. “According to Amos, Elsie did.”

“Yeah, but you helped things along. I heard you.” The words
rushed out before she could think better, fueled by the volatile mix of grief,
guilt and anger at another death. Lynn’s gaze fixed on a twisted and scorched
patch of prickly pears lit by morning sunlight.

He grabbed her upper arm and yanked her to him. Face to
face, he said, “What are you talking about?” He huffed out a breath as he let
go of her and dragged his fingers through his hair. “And if you overheard or
saw something suspicious, then you should tell the Sheriff.”

Gnawing on his lower lip, he stared at her. “Do you really
think I would—” He cleared his throat. “I would help things along?”

She stood inches from him; close enough to wrap her arms
around him and kiss away his hurt. Press herself against his warm chest and
listen to the beating of his heart. She held his gaze, not knowing what to
think, what to do.

Jack shot her a disgusted look and walked away.

Chapter
19

Words fought their way onto the page as she relived the
Tavistock fire. Elsie’s death and the distraught man made the story painful. By
ten o’clock, she was drained and headed for the newspaper’s library to do some
research on Tavistock. Maybe she’d find something to jump-start the words.

Standing among the rows of metal file cabinets almost as
tall as her, Lynn hunted for the Ts. When she found them, she pulled open the
drawer. A soft musty ancient scent greeted her. Brown envelopes, normal letter
size, lay stacked tightly in the drawer. Each envelope was labeled with a name
and held the relevant details of that person’s life. Some of the more important
people had two or three envelopes to their name. Her fingers brushed across the
tops, searching.

People’s lives reduced to a bunch of clippings, stuffed into
envelopes and stored in the morgue. A fog of sadness clung to her as Lynn dug
through and pulled out Amos Tavistock’s envelope and walked back to her desk.
She needed a hit of caffeine to clear her head, so she stopped and grabbed a Diet
Coke from the vending machine.

Missy, the cop reporter, worked at the adjacent desk. She
glanced over curiously at the brown envelope in Lynn’s hand. “What’s that?” she
asked. “Do you have an obit to write?”

Lynn grimaced. “Sort of,” she said. “I’m doing some research
for my Tavistock story.”

The other girl looked away. “Oh.”

Why go all shifty-eyed here? “I figure I need some
background on Tavistock and his wife for the story,” she said.

“The whole situation is so sad.” Missy shook her head and
stared at her hands. “Elsie always seemed so happy despite her health.”

Guilt ate at Lynn for staying silent about what really had happened
at the fire. How could she explain the voice she’d heard to Missy? She
couldn’t. She managed a shrug. “People often keep their pain hidden.”

Missy cleared her throat. “I think you should just keep it
short.”

Lynn sat up straight in her chair. She bought herself some
time by opening the Coke and taking a sip. “Well, I’m going to put in the facts
of the fire but I also have to include some information about the Tavistocks,”
she said, careful to keep her tone neutral.

“I just feel Mr. Tavistock should be left with his dignity,”
Missy said. “I mean, nothing can be changed about his wife being sick and
setting the fire. Now they’ll bury her and move on. I don’t think the public
needs to know all the sordid details.”

Lynn shook her head in disbelief. It appeared the story
about Elsie’s state of mind was already out in circulation, even without being
in the paper.

She looked at Missy. The petite blonde was born and bred in
San Angelo. She knew the community and was part of it. Lynn understood her
discomfort and point of view, but she also saw the need to report fully.
Celebrate the two lives most affected. Perhaps being an outsider was an
advantage. It helped her to be more objective when it came to reporting on the
community. Maybe there was such a thing as being too close to the news.

“I understand where you’re coming from and I feel just as
bad,” Lynn said. “But I can’t just do a short blurb on the fire. The Tavistocks
were a part of the community and Elsie should be remembered.”

Missy nodded, squinting at her computer screen. “Yeah, I
guess,” she said. “I would just hate to see Mr. Tavistock hurt anymore.” She
scrunched up her face and started typing her story. A ferocious click-clack of
keys filled the air.

Lynn turned back to her envelope and sifted through the
clippings. She found Tavistock’s birth date, his high-school graduation and
college graduation pictures and information, some family and ranch history and,
finally, a wedding picture.

The younger Elsie Ann Tavistock had been a beauty. Lynn took
in the pretty oval face, big eyes and gently smiling mouth. Her blonde hair was
brushed into an elegant French twist. She was dressed simply but attractively
in an embroidered skirt suit.

Tavistock stood next to her, grinning ear-to-ear. He stared
at his bride with unabashed happiness, his arms holding her possessively. They
made a handsome couple. Lynn studied the picture. The two seemed to have eyes
just for each other.

She found it hard to believe that the cynical old man she’d
first encountered in the parts’ store could ever have been so young, handsome
and happy. His eyes twinkled in the picture. She remembered other encounters.
Amos’ eyes had always twinkled around Elsie.

Lynn read the wedding announcement, while half-listening to
the chatter of the police scanner in the background. It described the outfit
the bride wore and details of the reception held afterwards. From all accounts,
the event had been lavish. Held in the Range Hotel ballroom, wine and food had
flowed. The guest list included several big names from back then.

“Hello?” A cool female voice broke through the scanner
static and usual conversations about traffic hold-ups and quiet beats.

“Mike here,” a man said. “Listen, I can’t go through with
this.”

Lynn flipped over to a blank page and grabbed a pen. She
transcribed the conversation. You never knew what could turn into a news story.

“Calm down. What’s the problem?”

“Wheeling and dealing is fine with me. I know how to do
business,” the man said. “But endangering lives isn’t.” Lynn leaned closer to
the scanner and sucked in a breath. Missy pushed forward, too.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry? People are dying,” the man said. “I don’t want
to take risks like that.”

“You really aren’t. Why don’t you take care of your end and
let other people worry about theirs?” the woman said. “And if it makes you feel
better, our associate has been reprimanded for the risk. He’s back in control.”

“He better be.”

A blaring horn interrupted the conversation.

“What’s that?” the woman asked.

“Oh, somebody I know just drove by,” the man said.

“Damn it. Call me on a land line.” The woman hung up.

Lynn and Missy exchanged a glance, complete with raised
eyebrows and conspiratorial smiles.

“That was interesting,” Lynn said.

“More interesting than the usual calls picked up by the
scanner,” Missy said, putting away her notebook.

“It sounded like it could be about the fire…at the Range
Hotel,” she added quickly when Missy turned to stare at her.

Of course, the rest of the world blamed poor Elsie for the
Tavistock fire. But she’d heard the oily whispers, urging, pushing, needling
Elsie toward her choices. Just as she’d heard a voice on the night Obaa-chan
died. No one had believed her then, and probably no one would now. But damn it,
the voice had been real, so real that she’d felt like the speaker had been
standing inside her head. “I wish I knew what it was about and who the people
were.”

She jotted down the time and date and snapped her notebook
shut. Mike. The name rang a bell in her memory. Could he be Mike the county
commissioner? Could he be involved with the arsons? Maybe. It was a common
name. But she’d still check on it.

Hernandez stopped by their desks and tapped his watch.
“Tick-tock ladies, more typing and less talking. Deadlines approacheth.”

Lynn shared an eye-roll with Missy, and turned back to the
almost-empty envelope. She’d have to worry about the phone call later, first
she had a story to finish. She found another picture, this one was a candid of
the new couple dancing. Again, their eyes stayed steadfastly on each other. Elsie’s
words about dancing floated back to her and the photograph trembled in her
hand.

She laid the wedding photograph and the new one side by
side, on top of all the news clippings about the Tavistocks. Looking at the
pictures, Lynn realized she’d found some sweet moments from the life of Amos
and Elsie. She hoped the Tavistocks had had many.

A certainty gripped her, a need to know for sure. She tucked
the two pictures of the couple into her notebook and grabbed her backpack. She
needed to talk to Tavistock.

Lynn knocked on Hernandez’s door. “May I borrow one of the
Herald cars?”

“Is this in pursuit of a lead?” At her nod, he continued.
“Sure, if the keys are there the cars are available, but check the log to make
sure no one’s already booked them.”

After Lynn found a free car, she snagged the corresponding
keys and lit out the door. It turned out to be an old clunker with the Herald’s
logo printed on the sides. She’d stick out like a summer dress in Antarctica,
but hell if it drove she was happy.

Questions about whether she was doing the right thing
plagued Lynn during her drive. Fifteen minutes later, she arrived at Jack’s
ranch house still unsure. Part of her scolded herself for intruding on a
grief-stricken man. The other part argued that the man had clearly been
head-over-heels in love with his wife and there was a story there.

“I’m just going to give him the opportunity to tell me the
story,” she said to herself. “If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I’ll respect
that and leave him alone.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the car.

She found Mr. Tavistock sitting on the porch swing and
staring into space. Lynn climbed up to him and wished him good afternoon. He
looked at her absently and nodded.

“I found something I wanted to show to you,” Lynn said, and
held out the photographs. “She really was the most beautiful woman at the
dances.”

Tavistock’s hands shook as he took the photographs and
looked at them. “Yes, she was.”

Lynn twisted her fingers together so tight they hurt. “I’m
writing a story about the fire for the paper and I wondered if you’d talk to me
about Elsie, since she’s part of the story.”

A door opened behind her. Lynn turned to see Grandma Edith,
the matriarch of the Jarvis family, step onto the porch. She wore a faded
flower-print apron and carried a broom. “Hi Lynn,” she said. “Jack’s out
working his fields.”

“What are you doing here?” Lynn asked.

Grandma Edith shrugged. “I do part-time housekeeping for
Jack,” she said. “Something I can help you with?”

“Oh, I needed to talk to Amos,” Lynn said.

Grandma Edith pressed her lips together into a thin line.
“Amos probably needs his rest and shouldn’t be bothered right now.”

Lynn’s face turned hot with embarrassment.

Tavistock looked from one woman to the other. Then he shook
his head. “It’s okay Edith, I need to do this.”

Grandma Edith looked at him. “If you’re sure,” she said.
Seeing his nod, she cleared her throat. “I’ll get some lemonade for the two of
you.”

When she’d left, Lynn sat down next to Tavistock. “Are you
sure?” she asked. “If you’re not up for it or don’t want to do it, you don’t
have to.”

Tavistock turned tired blue eyes on her. “I want to.”

Grandma brought out the lemonade and then disappeared into
the house. Lynn got her pen and paper ready. “So, tell me about her.”

Tavistock spoke about how much he’d loved Elsie and she’d
loved him back. How she’d stood by him when the stock market crashed and he’d lost
a lot of money in investments, then through the fifties’ drought. She’d taken part-time
jobs to help the family. How they’d both weathered the death of a child by
being there for each other. “You know she never wavered in her love for me,
right till the end she tried to make me leave her in that burning house,” his
voice choked into silence.

“Tell me about the night of the fire,” she said.

He seemed lost in thought for a bit. Then he shook his head
as if to clear out the thoughts jumbled in there.

Earlier that evening, Henry Chase had visited Tavistock
trying to convince him to sell his property. They visited on the front porch,
since Tavistock wasn’t going to let anyone into the house. “The house is mine
and Elsie’s,” he said. “I don’t want any strangers tromping about.”

They’d said goodbye at about 8 p.m. and Tavistock retired an
hour later
.
At midnight, he woke up when
Elsie shook him awake and smelled the smoke. She told him what she’d done,
begged him to let her die. He’d tried unsuccessfully to put out the flames. In
the end, when he couldn’t budge Elsie, he’d decided to join her. Then Jack Callaghan
arrived on the scene. “He’d been driving by when he saw the flames and
stopped,” Tavistock said. “I tried to get him to leave but he wouldn’t.
Bullheaded Callaghan. He’s the one who called the fire department.”

Lynn stopped taking notes. Both Henry and Jack had been on
the scene. One of them had to be the dragon, the whisperer. Hope flickered in
her. Maybe Jack really was innocent and his presence merely a coincidence.
Unfortunately, she didn’t trust coincidences. Henry seemed like a harmless
flirt… could he have a darker side?

Why did the both of them have to turn up on the scene? Would
Jack have called the fire department if he had wanted the fire? Didn’t the
arsonist call her?

“Did you mention Henry and Jack to Anderson?” she asked.
Tavistock nodded. Good, the arson investigator could figure it out.

“How did you and Elsie meet?”

The old rancher’s face broke into a happy grin. “My dad
actually introduced us. I laid eyes on her and knew she was the one. Happiest
day of my life.”

“She was a very lucky woman.”

Tavistock took a long drink of his lemonade. “We were both
very lucky that we found each other and found love.”