Shadows and Ash: Pulp Friction 2014 Finale

by Harner, Laura

  Driscoll snorted. “I figured you’d try to muddy things up now that his testimony is underway. That’s why I’ve had an investigator out here watching over Triplett’s place. My guy says there hasn’t been a sign of anyone sniffing around—including today. No, this one’s all on you, Mac. Although it’s probably going to be a workman’s comp claim for my guy’s broken ankle, thanks to your mop-headed friend.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the ambulance, where a dark-faced man wearing winter hunting gear sat in the rear doorway, his ankle wrapped and propped up. Next to him, a bandaged Mick pushed at the hand of the attendant who had been reaching toward his curls. The Flagstaff pumper truck sat just beyond the EMT vehicle. Fire trucks from the Coconino National Forest Service and National Park Service local units formed a semi-circle on the other side.

  A gust of wind carried ash, smoke, and memories, leaving a fine layer of dust on hats and jackets. Scott’s muscles twitched with the need to jump into his gear, to grab a Pulaski, and work the line. He should be out there, carrying a pack, catching the hot spots, mopping up. Something wasn’t right—he could sense it. His lungs burned with each ragged inhalation as he fought against a rising of panic. The heat was building, flames roared in the distance. Smoke billowed, then rolled, an inexorable presence coming to steal their breath. He fought the urge to run toward the black, to where all the fuel had already been burned away—anything to escape the inferno bearing down on them.

  Scott’s gaze swept around and from across the expanse of official vehicles, he met Finn’s return look, and he knew—he had to get them out, to get away from the blaze. Jesus Christ, why was everyone just standing here? “Move, move,” he shouted as he shoved at the man blocking his way.

  Finn’s eyes widened and he shook his head. His mouth clearly formed the word, “No.” There might have been more, something about Robby, but Scott turned away, intent on getting to Danny…no wait, that wasn’t right. To Mick…he needed to get to Mick. He was hurt and they needed to get out of here before the bitch overtook them all. He would not burn a second time. Scott took a second step forward before something hit him from behind. A flash of Robby’s smiling face was the last thing he saw before everything went dark.

  Chapter Two

  Rowen never in his life expected to receive smoke signals as a form of communication, but those billows rising over Mountain Shadows sent a clear message for him to get his ass home. Rowe hadn’t meant to venture so far out, especially not into the crazy-neighbor-that-made-him-look-sane’s territory, but the man was getting more foot traffic entering and leaving his place, and out of duty to keep Mountain Shadows safe, Rowe felt a little snooping wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  It looked like he wasted the whole day—he only got a fleeting glance of the single solitary visitor, a hefty dark-haired man. He never got a full face view, but damn did the stranger make Rowe’s skin crawl. There was something about him, the way he stood hunched slightly as if trying to be overbearing perhaps? Rowe couldn’t put his finger on it for certain but he was fairly sure he knew the visitor.

  If that was true, if he did know the man paying time with Watson…there was no way that could be a good thing.

  So on top of that unsuccessful outing, he evidently left Mountain Shadows open for more violence. It was enough to make him consider taking up his former profession and ridding the only home he’d ever known of any and all threats.

  Of course that wasn’t truly an option for Rowen, not when a bright blue-eyed and sandy blond curly-haired man looked up at him with such hopes and dreams for their future. Yeah, with Mick by his side, he could easily squelch any and all thoughts of violence toward anyone.

  Finally realizing that the smoke wasn’t coming from Park and Tanner’s home but from behind their place, Rowen launched off a thick and high-bared root to latch onto cabin ten’s ledge. Using his momentum, he swung his legs up and scurried across the roof to a trusted tree and situated himself on the branch, taking in the activity below him.

  Correction, he could vanquish all thoughts of violence toward anyone unless that anyone was someone who caused Mick to sit in the back of an ambulance with white gauze pressed against his forehead and no smile on his face.

  Rowen had promised Mick—and himself, really—that Mick would never have a reason to lose his smile again.

  A red haze shaded his vision, as if he suddenly wore tinted contacts that distorted his sight and highlighted it a blood-tainted color.

  As if his limbs were controlled by another—someone calmer and more centered—he descended to the ground. After his silent landing, he rose to his full height and cut a path to the man he loved.

  Rowen knew people stared. Some whispered and pointed from the tree to him. A few reached for their weapons, readying them if he showed any aggressive behavior—or perhaps waiting for a sign from their superior who Rowen would venture to guess was the burlier-looking man standing away from the crowd in the company of a smaller man that resembled a rat. If Rowen was in the mood to peg people, the rat man would definitely be a suit of some sort here for no other reason but to cause trouble. The two men were involved in a heated discussion, seeming oblivious to Rowen’s entry on the scene, which suited him fine.

  Normally he would’ve stayed hidden. Rowen had absolutely no interest in exposing himself to these people, much preferring to stay out of harm’s way—but getting to Mick’s side and making sure he was okay, since he obviously wasn’t injury-free, overtook Rowen as his only goal at the moment.

  “Excuse me, sir, you can’t just walk around here…like…um…”

  Rowen halted and turned toward the official who entertained hopes of keeping him from Mick.

  He kept direct eye contact with the officer until the uniformed man took a step back.

  A hand curled around his upper arm, but at the same moment Rowen smelled the familiar scent of his best friend and instead of tensing he relaxed a notch.

  “He lives here. He’s…” Finn navigated between Rowen and the cop before finishing his thought. “He’s family.”

  “Rowen!”

  Rowe heard Mick call him and physically fought down the instinct to rush to his side. He never broke his glare from the man keeping him from Mick.

  The officer swung his gaze between Mick who obviously wanted Rowen to advance to him and Finn, finally settling on Finn’s hand still resting on Rowen’s bicep.

  When his eyes widened slightly, Rowen instinctively knew it wasn’t because of the muscle in his arm that Finn held—truth be told Rowen didn’t have an overabundance of muscles. He had enough to maintain his tree climbing skills and archery prowess, but any more was simply wasted on him.

  No, if Rowen was a betting man, he’d wager that the uniform probably realized Finn didn’t hold him to protect Rowen, he held him back to protect the officer.

  Realizing how close they were to a possibly volatile situation could always jar a usually secure persona.

  The officer looked around one more time before capitulating to them and allowing them to pass.

  While they covered the distance separating him from Mick, Finn leaned in close and whispered for only Rowen to hear, “The next time you find yourself in a tree in the middle of a bunch of cops, think of another less dramatic type of entrance…please? Not only do they not know your history or that you wouldn’t hurt them, half of them don’t care either way.”

  “Mick was hurt.” Even as Rowen mumbled the words in a similar hushed tone, he mentally admitted that his best friend made a valid point.

  “Don’t give me that. You can clearly see that even though he’s hurt it isn’t life threatening. They don’t even have the engine revving in preparation to take him to the hospital.”

  Rowen nodded his understanding to Finn as they reached Mick side.

  “One more thing. Even though this is our home and you’re safe here, right now is a special circumstance. No public displays of affecti—”

  “Oh geez, dad! Do you think he’s gonna grope me in
front of everyone?” Mick cut Finn off with a hissed whine.

  “I don’t grope.” Rowen tilted his head in thought before adding, “I’m not ashamed of my relationship.”

  “I was referring to Mick more than you. Why borrow trouble?”

  Rowen sensed eyes on them and stilled his forward movement to Mick. Focusing on his peripheral vision showed the man who he assumed was the badge in charge moving toward them.

  As if reading his mind, Finn leaned toward him and barely whispered, “Be on alert, that’s the man that made the decision to haul Scott in.”

  Rowen blinked at Finn, wondering if his best friend had a memory lapse of some sort. Rowen was the last person who had to be versed in watching what he said to strangers, he only now felt slightly comfortable stating things to his friends. Then the second part of Finn’s statement hit home. “Scott’s in custody?”

  Before Finn had a chance to elaborate, the authoritative officer stepped next to them.

  He immediately addressed Mick, but Rowen didn’t miss the perusal the cop gave him first, no matter how sly the man thought he was.

  “You’re free to leave, Mr. Rutger. The paramedics have your signed waiver declining further treatment and I’ve got your statement. If there’s anything else you decide to share—anything about your stay here at Mountain Shadows in general, also—please don’t hesitate to call my office.”

  “He wo—”

  “I’ll do just that, sir,” Mick interrupted Rowen, jumping out of the back of the ambulance and leaning into the man in charge almost conspiratorially. “Anything weirder than normal happens around here and you’ll be the first person I’m on the horn with.”

  The oblivious man puffed out his chest and nodded, obviously accepting Mick at his word. He administered one final perusal of Rowen before turning his back on all three of them and heading over to the biggest group of uniforms by the burnt rubble.

  Rowen stiffened when he spoke to another man and they both glanced back at him. Rowe shouldn’t have been surprised that his presence would warrant conversation among the shields but he didn’t have to like it.

  “You won’t call that man.”

  Mick patted Rowen’s arm in what he now recognized as Mick’s placating manner. “Hey, calm down, Sugartree. I said I’d contact him if anything weirder than normal happened. If something weirder than professional hitmen hunting us down while things spontaneously combust around us happens…sure, I’ll call. Come on, they’re still watching so let’s walk to my place instead of yours. No reason to draw undue attention to you.”

  The mischievous smirk on his face put Rowen on guard immediately.

  “Besides, I wanna see how long it takes you to actually enter my cabin this time.”

  Finn snorted behind them as Rowe slowly shook his head and followed his troublemaker away from the chaos.

  ***

  Charlie Turner opened the gallery door and watched his lover, Amos Greene, as he dealt with the last customer in the shop. Catching his eye, Charlie gave him a warm smile and leaned against the wall, enjoying the sight of Amos waving his hands around excitedly, nodding, then taking a canvas off the wall and heading to the cash register to ring up the purchase.

  Damn, but the man was sexy and seeing him in action really tugged his crank.

  After wrapping the painting and accepting payment, Amos gave the customer one of his cards and one of the smiles that charmed Charlie out of his pants. A twinge of jealousy made Charlie’s stomach roll a little, but he was safe and secure in their relationship.

  “Hello, love.” Amos locked the door and turned to Charlie, pulling him down into a kiss that Charlie felt to his toes. “Miss me today?”

  “You know I did. But I got a lot of work done over at cabin seven, and it should be ready for Scott and Rob to rent very soon. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, but Siggy says the sooner we get the cabin remodeled, the better.” He shrugged. “Scott’s been a good friend—anything I can do to make things better for him, I will.”

  Amos’s eyes softened, and he wrapped his arms around Charlie in a tight hug. “You are a good man, Charlie Turner. Now, take me home and let’s enjoy the fact young Damon is off skiing for the weekend with Sigmund and Jillian. I want to see how loud I can make you scream.”

  His breath catching in his chest, Charlie flushed. “I’ll go warm up the truck while you close things up here. I have pizza and salad already in the cab, and all we have to do is add the dressing and heat the pie in the oven. We…um…maybe we can start with a shower.”

  “Five minutes, then we can be on our way. And Charlie?”

  Turning back from the door, Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  “I really hope you don’t mind cold pizza.”

  A shiver ran down his spine, and Charlie opened the door and started the truck.

  True to his word, Amos had the gallery closed and was bundled in his cashmere overcoat and scarf and ready to go within a few minutes. The night was deceptively cold—clear and bright, but frigid. Snow was piled on the side of the roads, and Charlie took the short drive to Mountain Shadows with care.

  “How are you doing, sweetheart? Are you ready for the Monday after next?” Charlie felt Amos’s gloved hand on his thigh, and felt a rush of warmth for the man.

  Not pretending to know what he was talking about wasn’t going to work, so Charlie went with the truth. He shrugged. “I’m okay. I’m more worried about Damon than anything. He’s doing so well, and this is the first session with Mom and all of us since…since she dropped her little bomb on me. It hurts, I won’t lie, and the fact she hasn’t been really interested in visiting with any of us… That pisses me off more than anything. But we’ll see.”

  “You don’t have to be strong for me, darling. You know how I feel about Marie. The fact that she has practically been in hiding for the past few months tells me one of two things. One, she is continuing with her pattern of letting her sons live their own lives and dipping her toes in when it is convenient for her. Or two, she has been working on her mommy issues and is actually working on getting past her own grief over your father’s death. Let us hope for your and Damon’s sake it is the latter.”

  Charlie swallowed hard, his feelings so close to the surface. The hurt was there, fresh as the day his mother spewed the bile and hate about Charlie’s “lifestyle choice” and, by extension, Damon’s. For his own sake, Charlie could deal with it. But Damon…his little brother deserved so much more.

  “I know what you are thinking, you know. And you deserve love and family just as much as young Damon. I will not allow that woman to hurt you again, Charlie. She will have to go through me first.” Amos’s voice was hard, and Charlie loved him just a little bit more than he thought possible for his protectiveness, not only of him but of Damon.

  “It’ll be what it is. I don’t have any control over how Ma feels, but I won’t let her hurt Damon again. Or me, for that matter. I have you, I have little man, and I have Sig and the guys at Mountain Shadows. That’s enough.”

  Leaning across the seat, Amos kissed Charlie’s cheek. A slow grin spread across Charlie’s face, and he felt so warm inside, as if nothing could touch him. As he pulled into the drive leading up to his cabin, however, he paused for a moment then took the detour to the main lodge.

  “Where are we going, love? I may be under the spell of your charms, but even I know that is not the way home.”

  Charlie gave him a worried look. “Something’s wrong. I smelled smoke when we drove up. I need to check…”

  Amos reached a hand over and gripped Charlie’s arm tightly, and he immediately began to calm. “Let us see if Scott is back and find out what’s going on. He was due back today, right?”

  “Right. Finn was watching things while he went to see Rob’s mother. Thanks for bearing with me—I’m worried with all the fires and ‘accidents’ that’ve been going on.” Opening the door, he and Amos made their way to the lodge and entered, taking off their coats and hangin
g them up on the coat tree.

  Finn was behind the desk and, hearing the door open, looked up. “Charlie. Thank goodness. There’s been a fire out behind Park and Tanner’s cabin, and the ham-handed firemen may have caused more damage to the property than the fire. Would you mind checking things over? Siggy isn’t due back until tomorrow. Oh.” He looked a little abashed. “Of course you know that. Your brother is with him and Jilly.”

  Charlie shrugged his coat back on. “Of course not. Was anyone hurt? Aren’t Park and Tanner in Phoenix still? And is Scott back? Does he know?”

  A troubled look passed over Finn’s face. “No, they aren’t due back until Christmas Eve. And, the police were here with the obnoxious little fire investigator for the county and the weasel from the insurance company. They’ve arrested Scott for arson—or at least that’s the plan.”

  Charlie’s jaw dropped open. What the fuck was happening here?

  Chapter Three

  Speeding probably hadn’t been his wisest course of action, but Cannon hadn’t been able to resist the lead-foot after getting Finn’s guarded, worrying message when his plane landed. As a result, instead of arriving early, he stood beside his SUV, in shivering bewilderment while a state trooper searched his vehicle and his partner wrote up a speeding ticket.

  “Is this really necessary?” he asked between chattering teeth. "I told you, I'm just going home."

  "To Mountain Shadows. There've been a lot of calls out there lately.

  "It's been a rough year," Cannon acknowledged. "But I still don't understand why you want to search my vehicle."

  “You’re not obligated to allow us to search, no. But given what’s happened today at the campground, it will help us eliminate potential suspects.”