by Geri Krotow
“Not quite. I’ll be at the police department if anyone needs me.” He grabbed his jacket and left.
* * *
Keith was greeted by Abi and Rio when he walked into SVPD. As soon as he entered the conference room, Abi nodded at another officer. “You can go get Chief Todd now, Nika.”
“I’m on it.”
“Thanks for coming in, Keith.” Abi’s glance was professional, but was that a spark of something in her eyes? Interest beyond the professional? Or was he being a self-serving narcissist?
“Glad to be here.” Could he sound any lamer?
“I was looking at the maps we’ve compiled after each arson that we believe to be associated with the cult, and it seems that everything points to one place.” Her finger pointed to a familiar spot. Keith’s gut dropped.
“The elementary school?”
“Yes. It’s a clear line from the first fire at Silver Valley Community Church two Christmases ago to the one from the other day in the abandoned farmhouse.”
Keith leaned in and ignored Abi’s fresh scent. It was actually on the sweeter side. Like a flower from Kayla’s shop.
“You’re correct. I didn’t think they’d all be so closely related.” How had he missed this?
“No harm, no foul. It’s easy to miss. Some of the fires were non-starters, stopped by local neighbors before your department was ever called.”
Abi’s assessment held no professional judgment, no rancor. She understood the fire department wasn’t paid to investigate every lead or even track down an arsonist. They were supposed to keep fire damage to a minimum, minimize casualties. Still, the responsibility weighed on him.
“Whatever.” Keith didn’t want to verbalize what everyone at the table knew: at least one of his men should have put the pieces together. In fact, it was a little unusual that no one had. Firefighters were on the superstitious side of belief and would be quick to notice “coincidences.”
“Not ‘whatever.’ It’s not worth getting riled up about. I’m not here to accuse you of not seeing it, Keith. I didn’t see it until this morning and I’m an arson expert.” Abi’s voice was steady, her brown eyes on him, comforting him. Even her gaze felt as though it caressed him.
“I usually notice similarities. The different propellants might be why no one thought the fires could be related.” He’d take a hit but his team didn’t deserve any blame. They were doing their jobs as best they could.
“Exactly.” Colt Todd spoke from the doorway and made his way into the room to take the head seat at the table. “Sit down, everyone. This is going to take a bit, I’m afraid.” Under the fluorescent lights Colt’s brows were grayer than Keith had noticed, his hair more sparse. Evidently the cult’s emergence in Silver Valley was taking its toll. But Colt’s eyes were no less bright as they shone with determination.
“First, good job to everyone working on these cases. They all seemed to be individual, random acts of arson, which was making us nuts, trying to track them all. But we’ve got good reason to believe that instead they’re all related. The FBI and our current expert hire, Abi, have pulled together some disparate facts and made a case for us that we can’t ignore.” As Colt spoke, Claudia walked into the room and sat in the seat nearest the door. Keith thought it interesting that the SVPD’s social media “guru” was involved in such a close-held meeting, but maybe she needed to know the facts to ward off any rumors that started.
Colt didn’t miss Keith’s observation. “Claudia’s been taking care of the rumormongers on Facebook and Twitter. They like to blame SVPD and SVFD for everything that goes wrong in Silver Valley. What did you call them, Claudia?”
The silver-haired maven smiled. “The haters. And we’re on Snapchat, too.”
Colt nodded. “Yeah, the ‘haters.’ Screw them is my method, but according to Claudia it’s important to keep these citizens engaged.”
“She’s right. The haters are often in the know about who’s doing what in town. They could be a source of information, or, even better, witnesses to a crime.” Abi spoke with the authority of someone ten years her senior. That sense of camaraderie, connection, flared in Keith’s center as he watched her, listened to her. Abi, like him, had been forced to assume professional accountability earlier than most. Being in any kind of public service could do that to a person.
Abi’s beauty hadn’t been diminished by the weight of her cases, however. He’d seen the ravages of their kind of work on folks; premature wrinkles and early gray hair were the least of the damage. The deeper, more lasting havoc was beneath the surface; like the worst movie you never wanted to ever see again, the images of a botched rescue or failed life-saving mission replayed ad infinitum.
“Keith? Did you catch that?” Rio’s deep voice penetrated his thoughts, and the expression on his and everyone else’s faces as Keith looked at them indicated he’d missed something critical.
“No, uh, I think I missed it.”
“I said we’re going to walk through all the scenes together. All the fires from the past two years. I can do it alone if you’ve changed your mind, but I thought you’d want a representative from your department with me.” Abi didn’t look at him as she spoke, repeating her request. She thought he’d relent and assign a junior firefighter. He’d thought they’d made some headway about working together. Apparently Abi was the one who’d changed her mind.
“Of course I’m still doing the walk-throughs with you. I’d rather keep the fighters on watch, and not split up these duties.” It would give him more time alone with Abi and by the sharp flare of her small nostrils he knew he’d stymied her attempt to cut him out.
Tough. It was time Abi learned she wasn’t the only hard-ass in Silver Valley.
“I plan to start today. I’ve counted eight fires to date.” She met his gaze head-on. “Really, Keith, I don’t need an escort if you need the time to arrange watches around the elementary school.”
“We do it together.” He stared at her, and damn if she didn’t blink.
Colt’s cough broke the tension.
“It’s good to have each of you there. Does anyone have anything else to add? Anything Abi and Keith should be aware of, on the lookout for that we’ve missed?” Colt’s tone was rife with annoyance. He didn’t usually need to play referee between two professionals. Keith felt like a dolt.
“I’m not sure what you’re hoping to get from these re-visits, but I’m here to help. Call me from any site, anytime,” Rio said, looking bored and...frustrated. They all were.
The cult had started spreading its fingers into town with that first fire two Christmases ago, Keith was certain of it. The church janitor had acted alone as far as any evidence reflected, but Keith had always felt he’d been egged on by the ugly thoughts and precepts of Leonard Wise. Just as the couple who had accused Keith of negligence had been. But it wasn’t anything that could be proved in a court of law. Just a firefighter’s hunch.
“Thanks for your support, Chief Todd.” Abi’s face didn’t reflect anything but that of professional interest.
Keith liked it better when she smiled and looked like she’d forgotten what her profession was.
* * *
“Abi, can I have a word?” Claudia smiled. She’d waited until everyone had left the conference room to speak.
“Sure. Here okay?”
At Claudia’s nod, Abi closed the conference room door. Claudia motioned for her to take a seat and sat in the chair Colt had vacated. Abi didn’t miss the natural way Claudia wore her authority. Anyone who walked into the conference room would only see two professional women, and think that the Silver Valley PD social media manager was chatting with the arson specialist contractor. Nothing unusual, per se.
“Abi, you’re doing a superlative job.”
“Thank you, Claudia.”
“And I’m afrai
d I didn’t make the entirety of your Trail Hikers responsibilities clear.”
Abi’s gut clenched. “Oh?” Was she about to be fired from the first job she’d had outside of the FBI? Right after she’d signed the lease for the house?
“Being a Trail Hiker isn’t just about the mission, Abi. I mean, it is, of course, but it’s just as important, if not more so, that you have another career. Your main career. Because TH missions aren’t full-time for any but the most dedicated, clandestine agents. And you made it clear when I hired you that you’d left the FBI to start a new life, a new career.”
Abi heard “youngest” agents in there, unspoken. As agents in any law-enforcement capacity aged, they wanted more than the gritty, life-threatening life of being society’s fixers. They wanted the farmhouse, the friends, the family. A spouse.
Are you ready for a family of your own?
“I understand, Claudia.” And she did. It was part of the Trail Hikers charter that agents were only part-time, save for a few elite operators. All agents were required to have full-time occupations outside of Trail Hikers activity. Because of its unique capabilities, TH wasn’t a job anyone could depend on full-time. And Abi knew she didn’t want to be an undercover operative for the rest of her life.
“If you understand, Abi, then please take care of this ASAP. Have you figured out what your new vocation will be? You know you’d be a shoe-in to work here in the station. I’m sure Colt would hire you without blinking.”
“No, no, I’m not going to pursue law enforcement. I’m grateful and honored to be able to use the skills the FBI taught me for Trail Hikers cases as needed. Even to help out SVPD and SVFD in future arson cases. That said, Trail Hikers is the extent of law enforcement I want to be involved in for the rest of my career, and only on an occasional basis. If I’d wanted a law-enforcement career I would have stayed in the FBI. I want...” She wasn’t certain how to tell a decorated war veteran that she wanted something other than government business. Something more...fun. Adventurous.
“To do something different, right?” Claudia laughed. “Do you think you’re the only one? If I were your age I’d jump on the new ways of doing agriculture. My secret passion is hydroponics. I’ve even started a small greenhouse in my home.” Claudia’s take-no-prisoners expression softened to that of a child’s discovering a flower bud. “I have some cherry tomatoes that are getting ready to be harvested.”
“Claudia, I had no idea. Not that I would, since I’ve been here such a short time. But you always seem so totally immersed in Trail Hikers.”
“I am. I love serving the community, whether it’s publicly in uniform or behind the scenes. But there’s so much more to all of us, Abi. I still have time to explore my passions, but more as hobbies. You have the opportunity to allow your passions to drive your life, your career. You know you can always turn down a TH mission, right?”
“Yes. But I can’t foresee ever turning away from solving an arson. It’s cliché, I know, but it’s in my blood.”
Claudia nodded. “Yes. Which is why you’re excellent at it. Just don’t be afraid to allow real life to come in. On all fronts.” Claudia gave her the “don’t make me spell it out for you” look that Abi had received from many higher-level FBI agents when she was at the agency. “So, any ideas on your new career?”
“Actually, I do have one.”
Chapter 6
Claudia’s admonition haunted Abi as she drove through town again. She stopped here and there to note the commercial businesses on Silver Valley’s main street, determining which had the best parking spots. She also took her time on the main highway, Silver Valley Pike—it had the most traffic in the area outside of Harrisburg. If she started a business, especially the one she was thinking about, it would need to be easily accessible. Tingles raced around inside her belly. It was exhilarating and terrifying to be able to do whatever the hell she wanted. She’d done her job, her passion, while in the FBI and as a Trail Hiker, but there was always someone senior to her, someone else calling the ultimate shots.
With this new venture she’d be on her own.
It didn’t take her long to ascertain that she’d prefer to open a business in the historical part of Silver Valley, but with her limited finances she’d most likely have to settle for a more commercial spot on the main pike. Abi hated settling for anything. Wasn’t that what she’d done with Fred? They’d dated on and off for years, whenever their FBI schedules allowed. Work had always come first. It was easy to say she wasn’t going to settle for anything anymore, but maybe a compromise would be okay.
Tired of searching for the perfect location for her dream business, she needed a break. Abi double-checked her GPS. She’d entered the address she’d found on the internet for the Silver Threads Yarn Shop exactly as it was listed on the shop’s website. The street wasn’t familiar, yet the site said the shop was in Silver Valley proper. But she hadn’t pulled up to anything that resembled a commercial business. She sat in front of what appeared to be a Victorian home on the edge of the historical residential area. If she wasn’t mistaken, the mayor’s house was only a block away. It was on the National Historic Registry and this house looked like it could be, too.
She got out of her car and walked up the cobblestone path to the large, wide porch, where she spotted the store’s sign. Hand painted and hung from hooks in the porch’s roof, it wasn’t visible from the street.
Abi peered through the beveled stained-glass front door windows and saw warm lamplight illuminate what appeared to be a front parlor with floor-to-window shelves stocked full of yarn.
She was in the middle of a case and this wasn’t the time she’d pick to research her future business ventures. Yet Claudia had encouraged her to and what could it hurt to talk to a local business owner? Just for the sake of it. And if that person owned the knitting shop, the kind of place Abi loved to chill out in, all the better. As she stood on the top step, wondering what to do next, the door opened.
“You here for yarn, honey?” A small, wiry woman with silver corkscrews haloing her elfin features squinted at her over polka-dotted reading glasses.
“Yes.” She followed the spritely woman into the shop and looked around her. The woman had led her into what must have been a Victorian library over one hundred years ago. Floor-to-ceiling shelves graced the walls of the round room that rose to a dome painted with cherubs. She couldn’t stop the squeal of delight that bubbled when she spied an old-fashioned library ladder that ran on a runner around the room. Vaguely she heard the woman laugh but didn’t stop to address it. There was too much to look at, too many colors, too many varieties of fiber to touch. For on each and every shelf was yarn. Skein after skein, with calligraphed names and price labels affixed to the front of each rectangular space. There had to be thousands of different fiber blends in the store. It was fiber nirvana.
Abi reached to squeeze the nearest hank. “Alpaca,” she murmured. “Merino. Merino super wash. Ooh, is this cashmere?”
This time the woman’s laughter broke her from her junkie haze. Abi turned around. “I’m so sorry, but if this is your shop, and you’re a knitter, I know you understand.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.” The woman took a step closer. “Are you passing through town? I haven’t seen you in here before.”
“No, I haven’t been here before. And, no, I’m not passing—I have a temporary job but I’m hoping to make my move to Silver Valley permanent.” As the words tumbled out she realized that it was true—she wanted to stay there. After she caught the cult’s fire starters, after they took down the True Believers. Silver Valley felt like...home.
Keith had nothing to do with it. Really.
“And you’re a knitter?”
“Yes. And I crochet, too, though not as often.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Close to three months.”
&n
bsp; “And you didn’t look us up until now?”
No, she hadn’t. She’d brought enough yarn from her humongous stash that she hadn’t needed to purchase new. Not that that had ever stopped her before. “I would have come in sooner but my new job’s been kind of crazy.”
“Where do you work?”
“Hmm?” She made a pretense of becoming fixated on a variegated wool that would self-stripe as she knit it into the perfect pair of socks for her father. “I’m a contractor for the police department, short-term. I was in law enforcement full-time but really want to do something different.”
“And you wanted to open your own yarn shop.”
Was she that freaking transparent? “No! I mean, yes, I’m thinking of starting a new business here, but not a yarn shop. Silver Valley certainly doesn’t need a new one, not with this wonderful spot. You’ve done an incredible job with this space.” She ran her hand over the walnut shelving with century-old patina that couldn’t be replicated. “I’m in need of a business site but I can’t say I want the typical kind of storefront. And that seems to be all that’s available in the strip malls along the main drag.”
“Don’t be so hasty. Not every business is on Silver Valley Pike—take this one, for example. I can connect you to the right folks. I’ve lived in Silver Valley my entire life and served on the Rotary Club board.” She held out a slim hand that was bedecked with silver rings, her nails polished a glittery tulip pink. “I’m Esmeralda Fiero.”
Abi grasped her hand, appreciating the woman’s soft strength. Not unlike the perfect tension in a fiber—soft enough to wear but tough enough to last years. “Nice to meet you.”
“Do you have some time? Would you like a bottle of water or a cup of tea?”
“Tea sounds great.”
* * *
“I’ve owned this shop for the past thirty years, since I retired from teaching.” She laughed at Abi’s stunned expression. “I know, I look a lot younger than I am. It’s doing what I love that’s kept me moving, along with great kids and grandkids. My granddaughter is about to have my first great-grandchildren. Twins!” She stirred a heaping teaspoonful of white sugar into her peppermint tea, dinging a tiny silver spoon against the side of the porcelain mug.