Where There's Smoke:

by Bancroft, S. D.

  “Yeah, I know, like I said, maybe someday, Dad.” She broke into a wide, open smile. “How about we head back to the house, and I’ll whip up some sandwiches while we pick your brain some more?”

  She met Mason’s gaze for a brief second, but it was more than long enough to tell her that he recognized her evasive tactic for what it was.

  So what? Did he think that just because she’d slept with him she was going to open up and tell him every dark, seamy event that had ever happened in her life? Well, he could think again.

  ~&~

  They ate a lunch of chicken salad sandwiches and homemade potato salad that Annie had rummaged from the refrigerator.

  Mason didn’t miss how deftly she had managed to steer the conversation away from her past and on to the present.

  “Did you know that the summer after the family moved into town, Jon’s father passed away?” Nathan’s deep voice boomed in the silent room. “I recall there was a big obituary in the newspaper for him. The size of it surprised us. That might be the place to look for information on extended family.”

  “What a great idea, Dad.” Excitement laced Annie’s tone. “I bet the archived obituaries are available online.” She leapt from the chair. “It’ll only take a few minutes to check. I’ll be right back.”

  Both men watched her as she dashed out of the large eat-in kitchen.

  “So do you want to tell me what the hell is really going on here?”

  Mason was impressed at the older man’s ability to hold the question in for so long. If the shoe had been on the other foot, he couldn’t say he would be able to do the same.

  “What do you mean, Sir?”

  “Cut the bullshit, Son.” Steely gray eyes locked on Mason’s. The same tenacity he had identified in Annie’s glimmered in their depths. “You both show up, unannounced, in the middle of the day no less. Annie looks like she’s seen a ghost, and you look like you’re ready to kick someone’s ass. Now granted, I don’t know you all to well, so that could quite possibly be your normal expression. I’m willing to bet it’s not though.”

  Mason mulled over just how much to tell Annie’s father. He was a pretty good judge of character, and everything in him said he could trust Nathan Andrews. Still, if he were wrong, then he could very well be jeopardizing his case. It was a gamble he was willing to take.

  Mason sat up straighter bracing himself for the fury he would likely encounter. Hell, he couldn’t blame the man one bit. If anyone put any child of his in harm’s way, he’d just as likely want to kick their ass too.

  “I’m an Agent with the ATF.”

  “What the hell does the ATF want with our small town troubles?”

  “There’s a possibility that the person responsible for setting the fires here in Hammond’s Bend is also responsible for setting several fires over the years across the lower part of Michigan.” He shifted in his seat until his elbows rested on the expanse of table that separated them. “More specifically, he or she may be the cause of the fire that killed my partner.”

  Nathan sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry to hear that, Son.” Nathan sat back in his chair. “What makes you think there’s a link between our fires and those?”

  “About a month ago we received an anonymous tip that there might be a connection. The caller said that the person who had set the fires wasn’t a local to the area. Word on the street was that he or she was in from someplace up north.”

  “Seems like a lot of guesswork going on there. So how did you land on Hammond’s Bend?”

  “Truth be told, Sir, but the majority of law enforcement work involves guessing. Then once we find viable information, we spend even more time tracking it down, and verifying its legitimacy.” He pushed the sandwich plate aside. “We started looking in towns within one-hundred miles of Houston and worked our way out from there. We checked them for an increase in suspicious fires, especially in the weeks surrounding the fires. What we found was a trail that lead from Houston to Michigan.”

  “What time span are we talking here?”

  “Roughly for about the past eight years as far as we can tell. And they always occur within the same two week time span, which lends credibility to the statement that the perp may be from someplace other than Houston.”

  “So you mean to tell me that someone spends his vacation time burning down buildings and killing people?” Nathan blew out a disgusted breath. “What in the hell is this world coming too.”

  “It’s crazy that’s for sure.” Mason lifted the glass of iced tea from the placemat and swallowed the last of it. “Anyway, we managed to narrow the locations down to Hammond’s Bend and five others. Then an agent was sent to each one, and that’s how I ended up here.”

  “So do you really think that Joe is responsible?” A flash of sorrow crossed the older man’s face.

  “It’s sure beginning to look like it. We’re still in the process of ruling out other possible suspects.”

  “Damn. That’ll break his mamma’s heart.”

  “If it’s really his mamma who raised him.” Mason added.

  “True, but still, Camille Martin is a good woman with a kind heart. Even if it turns out that Joe isn’t her biological son, it will still tear her up inside.”

  Mason couldn’t afford to think about how the perpetrator's family would feel. His only concern at the moment was the safety of the community and catching the person responsible for bashing Lisa Grove over the head and leaving her to burn alive in that damn warehouse in Houston.

  “I imagine it will, Sir.” Mason rose from the table, and carried his plate to the sink. He rinsed the remnants from the surface before turning to face Nathan again. “Now how about you tell me all about this hell that Annie went through?”

  “I’m not sure she’d want me talking about her personal business with you, Mason.”

  “I’m asking from a purely professional standpoint.” The lie slipped easily off his tongue.

  The knowing gleam that shimmered in Nathan’s charcoal gaze told Mason the older man didn’t believe his claim.

  ~&~

  “Any luck?”

  Alarm skittered through Annie. She wheeled around when Mason’s deep voice sounded so close to her ear. The articles on the Hammond’s Bend Press website had captured her attention so totally that she’d failed to hear his approach.

  “Gees, Mason stop sneaking up on me.” Her hand clutched at her chest in an attempt to slow the frantic pace of her heart. “You just about gave me a heart attack.”

  “I didn’t sneak up on you.” He bent further over her shoulder bringing his tanned and strong jaw within inches of her mouth.

  The mischievous grin on his confident mouth relayed exactly how much he knew his presence affected her.

  Annie swallowed the desire surfing through her, and turned her attention to the computer screen. With a nonchalant flip of her wrist she sent the silky tendrils of her hair flitting against his cheek and throat.

  Two can play that game. A deep groan rumbled from him, eliciting a smile from Annie.

  “You’re lucky your dad’s in the other room or I’d make you pay dearly for that move, Darlin’.”

  The sexy growl sent her blood pounding through her yet again.

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Mason,” She teased in a whispered tone, “but let me show you what I found out about Joe’s family.”

  “Rest assured, Annie, I’ll explain it in full detail to you when we get home.”

  Her body tingled with anticipation. The need to redirect this path they were headed down, warred with the desire to make him prove his words right here and now. Opting for the safer of the two routes, Annie cleared her throat, and focused on the computer screen. At least as much as she possibly could with Mason so close by.

  “It took me a little while to track down Joe’s grand-daddy’s obituary, but I finally did.” She clicked a button at the top of the computer screen, and another page appeared. A long finger skimmed over the ima
ge, stopping at a point about a third of the way down. “It seems that Jon had a sister, Tina Martin, who lived in Houston.” She turned concerned eyes on him. “This article lists her as predeceasing her dad.”

  “Is there any mention of Joe at all?”

  “It doesn’t list the grandchildren by name. Just that he had six of them.”

  “Okay. Well it gives us something to go on.”

  Annie’s gaze followed his lithe body as he crossed the living room, and stopped in front of the large picture window. Energy hummed from him.

  “So what do we know about Tina Martin?”

  “Only that she was a crack head that everyone thought had died in a fire caused by an unattended pipe.” He pivoted and met her gaze. “She never held a legitimate job. No one knows how she paid the rent on the dive she called a home.”

  “If this Tina is Joe’s biological mother, how did she manage to keep him?” She frowned down at the computer screen. “Why didn’t child protective services take him?”

  The idea of any child living under such horrid circumstances incensed Annie. How could a mother do that to their child? Shouldn’t their first instinct be to protect them?

  “Every time they would show up to do an inspection, she’d be gone, and the kid with her.”

  “So what are we looking at here, Mason?” Annie shot a questioning glance in his direction. “If this is our Joe Martin, how does the scrawny kid with an abusive mother turn into a serial arsonist and murderer? And why?” She turned her attention back to the monitor. “I don’t know that I believe it. Unless,” her eyes shot back to his face, searching the shadowed features. “you think that he was responsible for his mother’s death.”

  “That’s a possibility that we’re looking into.”

  “So the abuse he suffered at the hands of his drug-addicted mother drove him to murder at the tender age of eleven?”

  An image of the Joe that chilly fall day so many years ago, popped into her mind. Though he’d been a bit shy, he’d appeared as normal the rest of her classmates. He bonded quickly and easily with the others.

  Nausea twisted deep in Annie’s gut. Had there been signs over the years that she’d missed? Signs that the others had missed as well?

  Annie thought back over the span of time. Sure, he’d never spoken about his parents without the prompting of someone in the group. Then again, what teenage boy did?

  And Annie had thought it a little odd that, on the rare occasions that he did talk of them, he always addressed them by their given names.

  Now it all made sense. They weren’t his biological parents. If the research that she and Mason had conducted recently was accurate, it would seem that they were his aunt and uncle instead.

  “So now what do we do?”

  “For now, we sit tight and wait to hear from Trey.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. A ripple of desire shot through Annie as his fingers grazed lightly over the sensitive skin of her neck. “I can think of a few things to do to kill the time while we wait.”

  She busied herself shutting down the computer while willing her hormones to behave themselves.

  With the task finished, and her heart rate returned to a somewhat normal pace, she turned to face him.

  “I can think of a few things too.” She rose from the chair, and grasped his hand. “Have you ever ridden before?”

  She left the deliberate double-entendre stand uncorrected as she led him from the room.

  “I’m fairly certain your dad’s still in the house, Sweetheart, and I have no desire to get shot.”

  “Oh believe me he’ll be perfectly fine with this.”

  “Then we must be thinking of two different things.”

  ~&~

  “Do you know how to put one of these on?”

  Annie slung the saddle blanket over one shoulder, and hefted the western riding saddle in her hands. She turned to face Mason.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had to do it, but I’m sure it’s like riding a bike.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Annie pivoted on her heel, and started down the row of stalls. Stoney blew a welcoming neigh their way as the pair passed his stall. She halted two stalls further down.

  A golden head with a white face poked over the half door. “Hey girl.” Annie greeted the eager Palomino.

  She rested the saddle over an empty sawhorse before folding the blanket double and placing it over the saddle.

  “Wait just a second.”

  She slipped the latch upward, releasing the gate to the stall and stepped through. Two seconds later, she reemerged with the horse in tow.

  “This is Buttercup.” She paraded the horse across the walkway, stopping her beside the sawhorse where the saddle hung. “She’s a good girl, aren’t ya, Buttercup?” She patted the side of the long golden neck. “She’s mellow, a great trail mount, and excellent for someone who is learning to ride or hasn’t ridden in a while.”

  Annie fastened the lead to a hitching post in the center of the big room.

  “Why don’t you two get acquainted while I grab her tack. I’ll just be a minute.”

  The tack room was located in the center of the barn. Nathan had insisted on the positioning when they’d updated the structure. Annie smiled when the recollection of his argument to her mother popped into her mind. The tack room is the most utilized room in the barn, and a person shouldn’t have to run from one end to the other to use the confounded thing. Hell, I get enough exercise doing chores around here.

  Annie inhaled a deep breath, enjoying the heady scent of her father’s aftershave as it mingled with the aroma of the leather tack hanging on neatly labeled hooks. The scent reminded her of why she had such a fondness for this room. She made quick work of locating the gear for both horses.

  As Annie strolled from the room she was aware of Mason’s eyes on her. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch as she covered the distance between them.

  Without speaking a word, Annie handed him the appropriate gear. She looped hers from a peg in the large support pillar on the opposite side of the sawhorse.

  Mason grabbed up the body brush, and began deftly grooming Buttercups sides and back. Annie’s admiration for him grew. So he knew his way around a horse did he? What didn’t the man know?

  “Holler if you need anything. I’ll be back in a jiff.”

  Twenty minutes later, they led the two saddled and bridled horses into the bright sunlit yard.

  Her eyes skimmed over his lithe body as he easily mounted the patient mare. Damned if her heart didn’t beat faster every time she looked at the man.

  Annie cursed her foolish body and swung into the saddle. Stoney sidestepped, bringing her leg flush against Mason’s.

  “Easy boy.” Annie couldn’t be sure if she were talking to her mount, or the virile man beside her. One glance at the desire smoldering in his brown eyes spurred her into motion. “Walk on, Stone.” She applied a quick, slight squeeze with her knees, letting up when the horse set off.

  They rode for several minutes in silence. Annie was thankful that her companion didn’t require a constant running exchange. She loved the quietness of the countryside. The bright red cardinals chirped out warnings as the pair passed beneath their perches. Tall oak trees dotted the hillside, becoming thicker as they ascended the trail.

  “So, Annie.” Mason’s deep timbre broke into the quiet. “How much can you tell me about the problem you had last year?”

  Dread skittered through Annie. Beads of perspiration popped out on her palms resting on the saddle horn. She knew instinctively what problem Mason referred to. Damn you, Dad. She sent up the silent curse. You just had to tell him didn’t you?

  If she were honest with herself, she couldn’t blame her father. It had been a trying time for the entire family.

  “I don’t know that I’d clarify it as a problem. More like an annoyance.”

  Hopefully the small bit of information would be enough to satisfy his curiosity.

  “
I don’t exactly consider two-hundred phone calls a day merely an annoyance, Annie.” He reined the Palamino up beside her on the trail. “Did you file a police report?”

  She puffed out a breath, and her shoulders slumped as the same sense of defeat she’d carried around for six long months resurfaced.

  “I take it by your silence that the answer is no?”

  “I checked into it.” She sat a little taller. “The sheriff’s deputy I talked to said there wasn’t much they could do about it.” She pivoted in the saddle until she faced him. “He wanted to know how I could prove that it wasn’t just someone who was accidentally dialing the wrong number.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Right? I had recordings of the messages he left on my answering machine.” A cold ripple of renewed fear rushed over her.

  “Did you tell the deputy about the messages?”

  Embarrassment burned hot in her face as some of the more demoralizing rants flooded her mind. Whoever the lunatic was, he had always stopped short of using threats during the messages he left on her answering machine. Annie had assumed it was intentional. On the off chance they found out who he was, they couldn’t accuse him of threatening bodily harm. The implications were quite clear, even without the use of aggressive language.

  The message that she had found tucked between the sill and frame of her bedroom window had been quite graphic in describing his intentions toward her.

  Chills raced down her spine. Though the inundating phone calls had stopped, at least once a month she found a reminder that her nightmare was far from over. Some were in places that made her skin crawl. Inside the places she should feel safe, while others were in more public locations. And each time Annie asked if anyone had seen who left the notes she’d come up empty.

  The realization that he could get to her anywhere had pushed her to rethink living in a remote location. She prayed that the more people she could surround herself with, the less likely he would be to try and follow through with the insidious threats.

  On the chance that he would be brave enough to make an attempt, Annie had learned how to use a .45 Sig Sauer. She was pretty proficient at it.

  “Annie?”