Wildfire (2 page)

Dazed, she blinked at the pin-pricks of light beaming
through the leafy canopy and listened to the sirens. Her skin burned with fresh
scrapes. She blew out a shuddering breath. Weariness wrapped her like a
blanket, urged her to close her eyes. Just for a moment. Or until all the
uproar ceased.
No. No. She needed to see Jen, make sure she was okay.

Her eyes popped open. Tension twisted her muscles as she
scanned her surroundings with her mind. Emptiness echoed back. The male dragon
was gone. Had he ever been there? Or was her mind playing tricks again? The
sirens grew louder, nearer. No time to change into clothes. She scrambled out
of the foliage and came face to face with an outcrop of prickly cacti covered
in red fruit, bright yellow flowers and pale thorns. Life could have been
worse. Much worse.

She edged past the cacti and ran naked to Jen’s porch, backpack
bumping behind her. Her breath came fast. Almost hyperventilating, she pounded
on the door.

When the door flew open, Lynn stared at her friend. Short
lime green hair stuck out in all directions, faded purple Winnie-The-Pooh
pajamas, and heavy black rain boots. God, she’d missed that round, sweet face
for the last year.

“Oh my God, Lynn! It’s so good to see you!” Jen blinked. “Wait,
what are you doing here? Naked.”

“Getting ready to moon your fire department.”

She followed Jen’s frantic glance over her shoulder. The
headlights of various vehicles spilled across the end of the drive. Fingers dug
into her right arm, dragging her inside. The door slammed shut.

“Bathroom’s the second door on the left,” Jen pointed toward
a shadowy corridor. “I’ll go outside and talk to the cavalry.” Then she ducked
out.

Lynn dashed to the bathroom. Once inside, she leaned her
sweaty body against the door and slithered to the cool tiles. Damn, that’d been
close. Her mind kept returning to the vision, the fire and the invisible
presence. What the hell was going on?

Breathing in deep, calming breaths, she gazed at the
aquamarine walls as her heart calmed to its normal rhythm. She shrugged off her
backpack and pulled out underwear, a t-shirt and sweatpants. After dressing,
she twisted her loose curls into a topknot
and
stepped out, ready to investigate.

Following the light and noise leaking through the windows,
Lynn made her way through the darkened living room to the front door. The door
squeaked as she opened it and stepped out onto the porch.

Jen and an older man, wearing a Stetson and shoulder holster
with a gun, stopped talking and turned around. Ice-blue eyes raked over Lynn .
He chewed on an unlit cigar, making his salt-and-pepper mustache jog.

“Ah, there you are! This is my best friend Lynn Alexander,
visiting me from Houston.” Jen’s bright voice jarred against the backdrop of
billowing smoke, spewing water, and firefighters. “This is Rick Anderson, Tom
Green County arson investigator.”

He tipped his hat with one hand, while removing the cigar
with the other. “Welcome to Paradise Valley. How long have you been here?”

Lynn ignored the panic widening Jen’s eyes. “I got in late
last night.”

Her eyes followed his gaze to her bare feet.

Dirt and bits of green grass flecked her toes. Her dragon
curled into a tight ball in her stomach. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“You’ve been outside already?”

No point denying the evidence. How could she have been so
stupid? “Ah, yes.”

“Yeah, when the radio started blaring, it woke us up.” Jen’s
hands fluttered in the air like frightened sparrows. “And I couldn’t believe
the fire was at my house.”

“So I stepped out to see if it was true.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s smarter to run away from a fire
than towards it.”

“I think we kind of panicked,” Jen ended with a short
nervous laugh.

Lynn folded her arms across her chest and squared her hips.
“When I realized what was happening I ran back to the house.”

Silence simmered for a few long seconds. Then he nodded.
“Well, that explains one set of footprints we found.” He tapped his nose with
the cigar. “Strange thing is we didn’t find your footprints going away from the
house. Why is that?”

Damn perceptive man. Lynn shrugged. “Maybe I scuffed them
running back.”

When he continued staring at her, she returned a cool look
of her own. “You’re the investigator, once you figure it out let me know.”

“Well, that was just from my initial survey,” he shrugged. “We
are still studying the scene and we’ll figure it out.”

“I’m going to put on a pot of coffee and fix something to
eat.” Jen’s voice sounded over-bright like canned Christmas music. “After such
an early start, I think everybody could use caffeine.”

“I know I’d appreciate it.” Anderson turned away from them
and ambled down the steps.

Was Jen out of her mind? A fire needed investigating and she
wanted to make coffee and cookies? A not-so-gentle shove sent Lynn stumbling
toward the door.

“Come on, you can help me make sandwiches.”

Sandwiches. She was a dragon not a soccer mom. Lynn opened
her mouth to address the issue.

“Ah, Miss Alexander?”

Now what? She pictured fluffy white clouds in her mind and
turned to face Anderson. “Yes?”

He stood staring at Jen’s battered old station wagon under
the lacy shade of a mesquite tree. Hers was the only car in sight, other than
the fire vehicles. “How did you get here?”

Fortunately Jen came up with an answer while her brain still
scrambled. “Bus. I picked her up at the bus station.”

“Well, you weren’t kidding about late then.” He chuckled.
“That last bus comes in close to midnight.”

“Try closer to one,” Jen said.

This time she didn’t need any prodding. Lynn beat Jen to the
door and held it open.

Once the door shut behind them, Lynn grinned. “We still tag
team pretty well,” she whispered.

“Of course.” Jen waggled her dark brows. “The grand
adventures of Mizz Loca Latina and the Wasabi Shrimp continue.”

“I always hated that Shrimp bit.”

“Hey, life made you short.” Jen grabbed Lynn’s arm and
pulled her down a dimly-lit hallway.

They emerged into a cheerful little kitchen, with sunny
yellow walls, apple green cabinets and scuffed, but clean, cream-colored
linoleum floor. A riot of painted butterflies, sunflowers and leaves ran
rampant across the top of the walls. The pattern repeated itself on the wooden
kitchen table and chairs.

A familiar jealousy tip-toed across Lynn’s heart. Oh well,
some people were born artists and others turned into fire-breathing beasts. She
dropped into the nearest chair and pillowed her head on her arms. “Is Anderson
anal enough to check out bus schedules?”

Jen shrugged while rummaging through her cupboards. “If he
does, he’ll find out I’m right.”

“So now you’re an artist and a know-it-all?”

“That’d be O Great Know-It-All to you.” Jen switched on the
coffee-maker. “Nah, mom wants to visit and dad can’t get time off work. So I
just checked on the buses.”

“What if he checks the passenger list?”

“I don’t think he seriously considers you a suspect, he just
gives people the third-degree automatically.”

Lynn shivered. “Anderson is like a Rottweiler or something.”

“Don’t take it personally. It’s a small town and they tend
to be suspicious of strangers.” Jen plunked down a tray with bread, peanut
butter, jelly and plates on the table. “Your smartass reply didn’t help
matters. Ever try being tactful?”

An eye-roll seemed appropriate. “I’m not here to make new
friends.”

Jen glanced down at the tray. “Darn, I forgot the knives.”
She sauntered back toward the cabinets, but the rigidity of her shoulders
betrayed tension. “So what
are
you doing here?”

“Just wanted to see you.”

“Uh-huh, in the middle of the night when there’s a fire at
my front door.” She jerked open a drawer and searched through it. The clatter
of metal cutlery filled the silence between them. After she snagged two dinner
knives, Jen hip-bumped the drawer close. “How long are you here for?”

“As long as you want me around.” Lynn scraped her chair back
and stood. Telling Jen about her messed up life could wait.

“So you remembered me tonight, after almost a year of hardly
any emails or phone calls, you just chose to fly rather than drive, then there
just happened to be a fire. All coincidences, right?” Jen sighed as she placed
the knives on the table and pulled out a chair for herself. “Let’s try this
again without the BS.”

“If you’d answered your phone, I wouldn’t have had to fly
down.”

“Darn, I must have left my phone in the car again,” Jen
said, shaking her head. “And you’re avoiding my question.”

Friends since kindergarten, the woman knew her too well.
Lynn glanced away from Jen’s dark, questioning eyes and looked at the sunrise framed
in the window. “I-I had a dream. A vision. Whatever.” She shrugged. “I just had
this bad feeling and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Jen’s shoulders relaxed, dropped lower. "Thanks. I
appreciate that.”

Lynn glanced away toward the back door, paced back and
forth. The dragon inside twisted and turned, unsettled. “I should be out there
investigating the fire. Helping.”

A rude snort greeted her words. “You seriously think
Anderson and the others will let you, an untrained civilian, get close to the
scene?”

Lynn folded her arms and glared at her sandwich-making
friend. “I could teach them a thing or two about fire.”

“Yeah well, they don’t know that and I think you’d like to
keep it that way.” Jen nudged the clean knife forward. “You want to help? Grab
a knife and get to work.”

Swallowing her irritation, Lynn dropped into the nearest
chair and picked up the knife. If Jen wanted sandwiches, she’d get sandwiches.
She slapped and spread the peanut butter and jelly onto two different pieces of
bread, pressed them together and then cut the sandwiches into four triangles.
The first one was a mess.

“It’s good to see you and yes I do want you to stick
around,” Jen reached over and tapped her left bicep. “You look leaner and
meaner. Nice muscles.”

“Thanks, I’ve been working out.” Too many sleepless nights
spent exercising.

“Are you still working at the PR firm?”

“Nope, I’m writing the Great American Novel.” Writing had
always been her thing. But it had changed after
Obaa-chan’s
death.
Instead of flowing out smooth and playful like a word stream, it came in jagged
bursts that left her hurting. She couldn’t form the words into neat, pretty
sentences or clever, catchy jingles any more. Now the words pushed and shoved
out of her. And truth always showed through, raw and naked.

Lynn looked down at her sandwich and shook her head. “I-I
couldn’t continue working there after Rob and I broke up. But thanks to
Obaa-chan
I don’t have to worry about money.”

“So what happened with Rob and the engagement? All I got was
a mass email four months ago saying the wedding was off.”

The knife clenched in one hand, Lynn looked her friend
square in the face. She didn’t want to talk about her ex.
“Why are you interrogating me?”

“Well, maybe if you’d kept in better touch I wouldn’t have
to.” Anger and hurt flashed in Jen’s eyes.

Lynn ducked her head. She seemed to have a special talent
for pissing people off, especially the ones who cared about her. “I’m sorry. I
haven’t been a very good friend.”

Jen leaned forward and placed a hand on her left arm.
“You’re here, aren’t you? I just want to know you’re okay.”

Tears burned Lynn’s eyes as she managed a nod.

A staccato burst of knocks interrupted. Lynn whipped around
ready to leap from the chair as Jen yelled “Come on in!”

Anderson and a red-faced man crowded into the kitchen. Both
looked sweaty and grim. They nodded a greeting and headed for the coffee maker.
Again the tell-tale trace of dragon musk tickled Lynn’s nose, made her grip the
edge of her chair. She eyed the newcomers. In silence the men selected mugs
from the choices Jen had set out. Anderson grabbed the pot and poured. They
carried their cups over to the kitchen table and claimed the two empty chairs.
Behind them, pink, orange and gold clouds streaked the sky, reminding her of
the fire.

Jen smiled at the younger man. “This is Dan Roberts, Tom
Green County Sheriff and volunteer fire chief for Paradise Valley. My friend
Lynn.”

Anderson took off his hat and placed it on the table.
Roberts stuck out his hand. His slow grin transformed his homely face into
comfortable. “The man with too many hats at your service.”

Lynn met his gaze. Weariness. His hand engulfed hers for a brief,
warm shake. No sparks or anything out of the ordinary.

“So any ideas what caused the fire?” Jen shoved the plate of
sandwiches toward them.

The two men exchanged looks, Anderson leaned forward.

“A cigarette butt.”

What? Lynn sat up straight. Not a dragon, but something so
ordinary? “How do you know that?”

“The fire spread in a wide arc and left a charred trail. We
just followed it to the point of origin.” He bit into his sandwich.

“Given how dry it’s been, it could have been worse, a lot
worse,” Roberts said. He took a drink. “But the wind must’ve changed and forced
the fire around. Moved it away from the house and killed the momentum.”

Anderson nodded. “I thought I heard thunder earlier.” He
gazed out the window and searched the bright morning sky. “Maybe, we’ll get
some rain.”