The fifteen-minute drive from downtown Artemis took Josie along one of the few paved roads outside of the city limits: Farm Road 170, a rolling, curving road that washed out each year when the monsoon rains started, but now allowed for clear and easy driving. Josie passed by the Spanish daggers with their six-foot-high stalks topped with creamy white blooms just now drying, and she tried to imagine the landscape as nothing but scorched earth. She turned off onto Schenck Road and crested a hill that provided the perfect view of her small adobe home at the base of the Chinati Mountain range. At sunset, the house seemed to absorb the colors of the sky, often appearing pink. That evening, with the setting sun blocked by clouds, the house took on the gray cast of the mountains behind it. The house had a deep front porch held aloft by hand-hewn pecan timbers that her neighbor and closest friend, Dell Seapus, had helped her install. The front of the house faced the Chihuahuan Desert, which stretched beyond the Rio and deep into Mexico. The lane ran back behind her house and a quarter mile farther up to Dell’s ranch.
Josie pulled onto the lane and drove on past her house to check in with Dell. He had been worried about his cattle and the possible evacuation if the fire came their way. She got out of her jeep and he opened the front door of the cabin so her bloodhound, Chester, could bound outside to greet her. While Josie was away at work, Chester spent his days following Dell around the ranch, lying in the shade and watching him tend to chores.
Dell was a seventy-something-year-old bachelor who claimed to like animals more than people. He’d never been married, having sworn off women as a pain in the ass many years ago. Josie was his one exception. She had gotten to know Dell during a monthlong investigation involving the theft of his prized Appaloosas. When Josie brought the horses back unharmed, he had deeded her ten acres in front of his property and helped her build her home.
Dell skipped the small talk. “What’s the latest on the Harrison Ridge fire?”
“It’s not good news. It’s headed directly toward the mudflats. Another fire jumped the Rio and it’s burning along the riverbank just south of us.”
Dell frowned. “Fire coming at Artemis from both directions?”
“That’s the fear. We’re facing mandatory evacuations tonight.”
“Damn it. How about us?”
“Unless the wind direction changes, I hope we’re far enough to the west that we’ll be okay. Marta is in charge of the evacuation on this side of town.”
“I got the cattle moved over to the Saddle Market this afternoon. At least they’re safe.”
“You’ll keep Chester with you tonight?”
“You bet,” he said. Dell rubbed his hand over the stubble on his cheeks. His silvery hair was matted around his head from the band on his cowboy hat. He was shirtless. His bare chest was the color of tanned leather, and his blue jeans looked as if they might disintegrate through one more trip in the washer.
“What does that mean for you?” he asked. “For the department?”
“I came home to call the volunteers and put them on alert.”
“What can I do?”
“I’d like you to ride with me if we evacuate the mudflats. I need to keep Marta and Otto open to cover other areas of the county in case Doug needs them.”
“You’re talking about the homes out where the Blessings live?”
“That’s it. There’s less than a dozen houses in the direct line of fire, but we’ll go door-to-door if it comes to that. My guess is the order will come tonight.”
Dell nodded. “I’ll be ready. Who gives the order?”
“Doug Free will call me.”
“You need supper?”
She raised a hand to brush the question off. “I’m not hungry. I need to start calling volunteers.”
“I’ll bring some brisket down.”
* * *
Josie took Chester home, got him a bone, and watched him settle on his rug, oblivious to the drama around him. She was sitting at the table under the kitchen window with her papers spread out before her when Dell walked in carrying a roasting pan covered in tinfoil. While she made calls he dug through her kitchen drawers and opened a can of baked beans, which he doctored up with mustard and brown sugar and heated on the stovetop with the brisket.
“How many people you have to call?” he asked, setting plates down on the table. He had changed into a newer pair of jeans, a Western shirt, cowboy boots, and his hat.
“There’s roughly two hundred families in my region. I have ten volunteers to call. Then they’ll make their phone calls to the people who signed up for the phone list. Otto’s working downtown. His crew will go door-to-door to reach more people. Marta has the ranches farthest from town.”
Josie knew there were people who had refused to take part in the phone tree. All she could do was hope they paid attention to the radio. The county emergency team had worked hard to put a solid communication plan into place for disasters. It was time to put it to the test.
Shortly after she’d reached her last volunteer, Josie received a phone call from Doug.
“Josie. We’ve got lightning strikes again and the wind isn’t letting up. I just called MPR and told them to announce the evacuation routes. You get your volunteers going. I’m ordering mandatory evacuation for the area inside the city limits, and the northern and eastern regions. You ready to jump on it?”
“Absolutely. I’ll call Otto and Marta, and I’ll text my group. They’re waiting for the signal.”
“The smoke jumper crew has been on a line just north of downtown, about ten miles south of the mudflats. They’re working with about thirty firefighters to clear debris and expand Lonesome Road to make a hundred-foot firebreak that’s clear of fuel.”
“How’s it coming?”
Doug sighed. “Those guys are working as fast as they can. My biggest worry is that I haven’t correctly predicted the line of the fire.”
She understood his fear. In the end, he would take responsibility for the plan’s success or failure, regardless of the fire’s behavior. It was a tough place to be, knowing lives and homes depended on your best guess.
“Can you get out to the homes on Casson’s Road and go door-to-door?” he asked. “The fire’s driving straight toward that area and the wind’s picked up again. I’m afraid we may lose the eight homes there. It doesn’t look good at all. Tell those folks they need to be out immediately.”
Josie glanced at her watch. It was 7:05 p.m.
“Realistically, how much time do they have?”
“I want them out within the hour,” he said.
“We’re on our way.”
* * *
The landscape within Arroyo County varied from flat dusty desert to areas of grassland farther north that received rain from mountain runoff as well as water from underground springs. The locals called the area north of town the mudflats owing to a low depression in the desert that filled with rain during the monsoons and made a mud pit that the local kids and ATV riders descended on for a giant party each summer. It was designated public land, and as long as the party didn’t get too rowdy, law enforcement let the revelers go.
Just to the east of the mud pit was a swath of prairie grass several miles wide. A road wound through the grassland where eight homes dotted the land. Josie loved her home and Dell’s cattle ranch at the base of the mountains, but she thought the green grasses gently blowing in waves in the spring and summer were one of the prettiest sights in Artemis. The problem now was that with no rain for nine months, the grass had turned brown and brittle—perfect fuel for the fire.
Josie and Dell loaded Chester into the back of her Artemis PD vehicle, a four-wheel-drive retired army jeep that served her well on the gravel and dirt roads throughout the county. They were quiet on the drive as they watched the wall of smoke in the distance, stretching from ground to sky, swallow up everything in its path.
They pulled into the first driveway at 7:20 p.m. The home was dark, the homeowners apparently gone. Josie checked the front door an
d Dell checked the back to make sure both were locked and the family had actually left. A half mile down the road they pulled into the driveway of the second home, a sprawling ranch with an attached garage. A man and woman were outside, frantically throwing boxes into the back of an SUV. The man ran up to Josie, looking relieved to see the police.
“We heard on the radio, mandatory evacuation.”
“That’s correct. It’s time to leave. You have pets taken care of?”
Josie noticed Dell heading up to the front of the house where the woman had gone back inside, apparently for another load.
“We don’t have any. Just us and the kids.” He turned and pointed to the SUV. The open back doors revealed two girls under the age of five strapped into car seats. Both of them were wide-eyed, gazing out the car door at their parents’ panicked activity.
“You know the evacuation route?” she asked.
“I do. We’re headed down Bull Run Road toward 67. The radio said the elementary school is ready with cots set up for the night.”
“Excellent. You have five minutes and I want you out of the driveway. Okay?”
The man nodded and turned to see Dell helping his wife with one last load.
Josie and Dell left and wound their way down the road to the next house, owned by Smokey and Vie Blessings. Smokey was a city council member whom Josie had worked with for many years. He was a voice of reason whenever Mayor Moss tried to fight Josie’s decisions. Josie was also friends with Smokey’s wife, Vie, a nurse at the town’s trauma center. Where Smokey was easygoing, Vie was passionate. She was often the only nurse working in an ER that shared rotating physicians because of the town’s small size and remote location. Vie got things done.
When Josie and Dell got out of the car and approached the house, they found Smokey standing by their pickup truck, his face red and angry. Josie reached her hand out and shook Smokey’s. “You heard about the mandatory evacuation? Fire chief wants you out immediately. The fire is too unpredictable right now.”
“I know about the evacuation. Tell my wife! I can’t get her out of that house. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” Smokey turned back and glanced toward the truck, where his sixteen-year-old son was sitting, staring down at his cell phone. “Donny’s been sitting in there for fifteen minutes while she keeps dragging out more junk we don’t need. I can’t get her to stop and listen.”
Josie was stunned. She’d never seen Smokey lose his cool. “Let me go talk to her.”
Dell offered to help Smokey throw the suitcases situated behind the pickup into the bed, and she ran inside the house. It was a two-story stone house, decorated with Southwest fabrics and patterns. Josie heard noise from the hallway to the left of the front door and found Vie digging in a closet in what appeared to be a craft or sewing room.
“Vie, it’s Josie.”
Vie pulled out of the closet and Josie recognized the wide-eyed vacant look on her face as a combination of terror and shock. It was a look that Josie did not associate with the woman who remained in charge during whatever crisis was thrown at her at the trauma center. Vie said nothing, just stared at Josie, her eyes unblinking.
“Vie, you have to leave. The fire is headed this direction. None of this stuff is worth your life.”
Vie reached back into the closet and pulled out a box that appeared to hold memorabilia—baby books and a child’s blanket. “I can’t leave all this. I have boxes from Donny’s childhood. I’ve kept all this for him. I don’t have our photos yet. They’re in my bedroom.”
Josie put her hand on Vie’s arm to pull her from the closet but Vie jerked free. Josie reached for her again, this time grabbing hold in a tight grip. “Vie,” Josie said, her voice loud, her tone firm. “You are putting your son’s life in jeopardy right now. That fire is headed directly toward this house. Smokey and Donny are outside waiting on you.”
She turned and looked at Josie as if she’d been slapped. Tears welled up in her eyes. “We came from nothing. We built this home, piece by piece.”
Josie kept her hand on Vie’s arm and guided her out of the bedroom. Vie clutched the box but walked with Josie down the hallway. “You won’t lose those memories. You’ve made a great home for your family, and if you have to, you’ll rebuild. But we have to keep you safe. We need you to leave now so we can move on to the next family.”
They reached the door and Vie stopped again, staring at Josie for a moment before finally walking to the car without another word. She got into the passenger seat and Smokey backed out of the driveway without hesitation.
The next three homes were empty. As they reached the last home, Doug called and said it was time to get out. The flames from the peak of the fire were now visible. The fire was within a mile of the mudflats. The smell of smoke was strong now and the smoke completely blotted out any evening light.
Chester typically lay in the backseat and slept when he rode in a vehicle, but he was agitated now, whining, obviously alert to the danger they were facing. Josie was always amazed at the dog’s innate sense of natural dangers, such as approaching storms or fire.
Lights were on in the last home to check, but the front door was locked. Dell ran from window to window to see if someone was inside. Josie finally found the man in his woodshop behind the house. He was sitting on a stool at his workbench, whittling a small piece of wood and listening to the radio announcer discuss the evacuation. She knew him as a cantankerous retiree from the local bank who was now in his late eighties.
She told him, “Mr. Beeman, the fire is within a mile of your home. You are in extreme danger.”
He ignored her, refusing to look up.
Josie bent down, getting right next to him and speaking loudly. “You could die if you don’t leave.”
He swatted her off with his hand. “Get out and leave me be.”
Josie felt her face flush with anger. “Mr. Beeman, the flames are visible from here. It isn’t if the fire will burn your house, it’s when it will hit.”
He looked up and glared at her. “I’m not going anywhere. I got a storm cellar. That’s where I’ll go.”
“That cellar won’t do you any good if your burning house caves in on you!” She was furious at his unwillingness to help himself.
He turned back to his workbench and drew his whittling knife down the side of the piece of wood. Josie looked more closely at the piece and saw that it was in the shape of a heart, and he was carving the initial B in the center. His deceased wife’s name was Beatrice.
After pleading with him one more time, she choked back tears as she turned from the old man and left. Ultimately, it was a person’s right to choose death.
FIVE
After checking the most vulnerable houses in the mudflats area, Josie and Dell drove south to Lonesome Road, where a group of roughly sixty firefighters were spread across a three-mile span, widening the firebreak. Josie drove two miles toward downtown Artemis, down the side road that ran perpendicular to the firebreak, and found Doug’s fire truck. Another group of firemen were using a water tank from a brush truck to fight the flames from the fire’s flank, basically squeezing it in from the sides and preventing it from spreading any wider.
They approached Doug who stood at the edge of the road, talking on his cell phone. Once he finished he walked toward them, shaking his head. “We’ve got every road between here and Mexico closed. I just hope everyone got out of the south central part of the county.”
“I hate to add this to your worries, but I couldn’t get Mike Beeman to budge.”
Doug shook his head, clearly angry. “He’ll put my firefighters in danger trying to save his sorry ass.” Doug ran his hands over his face as if trying to wipe away the thought. “I’ll do what I can.”
“What about the firebreak?” said Dell.
Doug held a hand in the air and tilted it. “The mudflats are in trouble up north, but this firebreak may save downtown. The guys have done a great job fighting this from the sides. Up north it was burning over e
ight miles wide. I just talked to the crew to the east of us. From where they’re stationed, I think the fire’s only burning about two miles wide. And it’s headed straight for the break. This might work.”
“What about west of town?” Dell asked.
Doug nodded, acknowledging that that was where their homes were located. “The fire across the river is contained. The wind direction up north is remaining constant. Anything west of the watchtower is currently out of the line of fire.”
“What more can we do to help?” Josie asked.
“Your next job starts tomorrow. Go home and get a couple hours’ sleep. As soon as we’ve deemed the homes and outbuildings safe enough to search we’ll give you a call. We’ll have a lot of ground to cover and you’ll have people fighting to get back to their homes.”
Josie nodded. “I already talked to Roy. Since the jail’s cleared from having to evacuate, he’s working with his officers to get barricades up on all the closed county roads. He’ll take care of keeping back the residents tomorrow, and we’ll help you check structures.” Josie paused, thinking about Vie and Smokey. “Any idea when we’ll be able to get in and check the mudflats?”
Doug frowned. “It’s not good, Josie. We’re doing what we can, but there’s little doubt we’ll lose some of those homes. Texas Forest Service is on their way with planes, but…” He looked away. “We’ll need daylight to start assessing damages, assuming we can stop this tonight. I’ll call you by seven tomorrow morning with an update.”
* * *
Josie knew that the western area of the county had been spared, but she felt immense relief as they topped the hill and her home came into view. Dell exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. The relief made her all the more aware of what her friends and neighbors would experience over the next few days as they discovered their homes and possessions burned to ash.
She drove Dell down to his house, but he didn’t get out. The inside of the car was dark, and they were both exhausted from the night. She wondered at the hesitation.
“You want to come in for a cold drink? Unwind before you try to get some sleep?”
Firebreak: A Mystery Page 3