Danger in Deer Ridge (Blackthorne, Inc.)

by Terry Odell

  Warmth spread through Elizabeth as Will recited the line he’d rehearsed. He’d been so worried about what to expect, what to say. He shot her a wide-eyed glance, and she had a moment of panic. Couldn’t he handle seeing Grace? Then she remembered, and unzipped the outer compartment of her carry-on, where Will’s gift waited. She carefully extracted the large envelope and carried it to Will.

  “Here,” he said, holding the envelope toward Grace. “I made you these.”

  Grace held up a bandaged hand. “Would you open it, please?”

  Will carefully extracted the pictures he’d drawn of the deer, Chester, and Reggie.

  Grace spent a moment with each one. “They’re beautiful,” she said. She handed them to Mr. Blackthorne. “Aren’t they, H? When you leave today, I want you to go straight to a framer and get them framed.” She kissed Will’s forehead. “I’m going to put them in my bedroom at home.”

  Will beamed. Elizabeth shifted her gaze from Will to Horace Blackthorne. He’d given the pictures a cursory glance, but his eyes were strictly for Grace. It was as if his universe began and ended with her. Grace’s eyes held the same brightness.

  Elizabeth tried to remember Victor ever looking at her that way. And couldn’t. Had Grinch? Aside from when they’d made love? And then she remembered his face when he’d found her at the stream. The memory stabbed a hole in her heart.

  Grace gazed at Elizabeth, then at Mr. Blackthorne. “H, I’ll bet Will’s thirsty—and probably hungry. Would you be a dear and take him to the cafeteria?”

  He must have caught the “girl-talk time” in her tone, because he mustered a smile. “Sure thing,” he said, although his tone carried an “I’m doing this because you asked, not because I want to” message.

  When they’d left, Elizabeth took the seat Mr. Blackthorne had vacated. “How are you? Be honest. This whole thing would never have happened if you hadn’t tried to help.”

  Grace shook her head. “It’s not about me. I’ve survived worse. How are you doing?”

  Elizabeth collected her thoughts. There was no point in disturbing Grace with the details—the fear she’d overcome in standing up to Victor. How Grinch’s words had given her the courage. He’s a bully, Elizabeth. Stand up to him and he’ll run. Of course, having a lawyer on her side helped, too.

  “We’re doing fine. I spoke with Victor. Thanks to Grinch—and you—he’s agreed to a divorce.” She gave a wry smile. “Probably easier to write me out of the picture than worrying it might come out he was an abuser.”

  Grace’s expression said she knew there was more, but she didn’t press.

  Grateful for that, Elizabeth went on. “He’s got enough to deal with—everything he did to keep anyone from finding out he wasn’t Mr. Solid Citizen is going to surface. Plus, he’s going to be dealing with legal issues—maybe even jail time.

  “It’s going to be hard for him to admit that he might have avoided all his troubles if he’d had the courage to say no at the beginning, to turn to the law instead of breaking it. I’m the one who feels like I let him down. If I’d tried to help somehow, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten in so deep.”

  “He abused you,” Grace said. “There’s no excuse for that.”

  “I agree. But knowing why—that he was caught in an ever-deepening downward spiral—helps me understand his actions. I never imagined anything close to what he was caught up in. Or how it would change him. The Victor I’m divorcing isn’t the Victor I married.

  “I’m not asking for anything other than support for Will. It took some doing, but we agreed on an amount that should cover Will’s education, plus any unforeseen emergencies. Since I don’t have to hide, I’m looking for a job in the food industry. Part-time, and not until school starts. I’ll use the time to adapt my recipes for the altitude.” She patted Grace’s hand. “But I do thank you for the referrals.”

  “I’m sure you’ll succeed at whatever you try,” Grace said.

  “I’m on my own now, and I like it. I’ve had enough of people telling me what to do. I’m not going to depend on anyone but me.”

  Grace closed her eyes for a moment. Elizabeth caught her breath. Was Grace in pain? Should she call for the nurse? Wasn’t there a call button somewhere?

  Grace’s eyes opened, and there was sadness, but no pain. “Just understand. There’s a difference between being on your own, and being alone.”

  Elizabeth waited.

  Grace exhaled a drawn-out sigh. “I lost my husband fifteen years ago. We were very much in love. We worked together, had some amazing experiences. When he died, I thought my life was over. I shut down a part of me, refusing to allow another man to get close. I missed a lot of years with someone special. I know it’s early for you—you’ve been reinventing yourself, which is a good thing. But don’t do it alone. It’s not fair to your son, and especially not to you. Promise me one thing. You’ll keep your mind—and your heart—open.”

  Elizabeth swallowed, marveling at how Grace seemed to know exactly what had been eating away at her. It was too soon for a serious relationship, but maybe she shouldn’t be erecting a brick wall around her feelings. “I’ll try.”

  Another sigh escaped Grace’s lips, this one more of contentment, and then a soft smile. “Now, tell me all about your new life. You’re staying in Deer Ridge, of course. After all, you signed a year’s rental agreement on the house.”

  Elizabeth thought of being so close to Grinch. Of how she felt every time he looked at her—or every time she thought of him. But after Victor, she wasn’t ready to let another man into her life. Would she be able to deal with living so close? No matter. Will was happy in Deer Ridge, and she saw no reason to pull up stakes simply to avoid Grinch. They were adults. They cold be friends. They’d adjust. “I guess I am, then.”

  * * * * *

  Grinch’s chest lurched when he saw Elizabeth at Danny’s Diner. He debated approaching. It had been almost a month since she’d casually told him she was rebuilding her life. Good for her. Without the need to hide from Victor, she’d become more relaxed and outgoing, although she’d kept her Elizabeth identity. But she’d kept her distance, and he couldn’t handle the “just friends” trip. Not when thinking of her kept him awake at night.

  He almost wished Will and Dylan weren’t such good friends, because it hurt every time Elizabeth gave him her pleasant but distant greeting at carpool time. Hell, even Chester and Reggie had hit it off after Grace had arranged the dog’s return.

  School would be starting soon enough, and they had a reliable after-hours program. He figured it was time to ease into work at the fire station again, once he made sure Dylan adjusted to kindergarten.

  Straightening his shoulders, Grinch started toward Elizabeth’s table, where she sat leafing through some papers. She looked up and smiled. A friendly hello in a neutral, public setting wouldn’t mean anything. Until he realized the smile wasn’t directed at him, but at the man carrying two cups of coffee. Logan. He set a cup in front of Elizabeth, then sat beside her. Close beside her. Heads bent over the papers, Elizabeth pointing at something, Logan nodding. Were they admiring Will’s artwork?

  Grinch pivoted on his heel and stormed out the door.

  Jealous? He wasn’t jealous. No way. He merely didn’t see a reason to intrude, not when she was obviously happy with Logan.

  Two days later, driving home from a meeting at the fire station, Grinch slowed when he saw Logan’s truck parked at Elizabeth’s house. He cast a glance around for the man, but didn’t see him. Was he inside with Elizabeth? He caught a glimpse of motion. Logan strode out of the house. Shirtless. Glistening with sweat. Carrying a glass of what looked like lemonade. Seconds later, Elizabeth followed with her own glass.

  He gunned the engine and burned rubber for home, telling himself he was an idiot for letting it get to him. But something inside wasn’t listening.

  As he pulled into his driveway, his phone rang. Without checking the display, he braked and answered.

  The capt
ain, sounding grim. “Grinch. We have a situation. Could use your help.”

  Grinch hopped out of the truck. “What do you need?” It had to be important if the captain himself was calling.

  “There’s a fire up the mountain. Family’s missing since last night. Three adults, two children. We have their last position, which puts them right in the thick of things. We need a pilot.”

  “What about Francisco?”

  “His wife’s in labor. I hate to ask him to leave her. She’s had two miscarriages, and this was a risky pregnancy—plus, she’s a month early.”

  “I understand. I need to make some arrangements, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Sooner the better. And Grinch. Appreciate it.”

  Grinch knew calls were going out to all the volunteers. He hoped the captain had called him first, which would give him a little extra time to prepare.

  He gathered his courage, sucked in his pride and dialed Elizabeth.

  In under an hour, he and a crew were airborne. Minutes later, chimneys of black smoke on the mountain came into view. He estimated another twenty to thirty minutes to reach the command post, set up near the Visitor Center.

  Behind him, he knew the crew was gearing up, discussing strategies. Not much different from a Blackthorne op. He flipped channels on his headset to listen in.

  “One of the kids wandered off. The father tried to find him, fell into a ravine, and then they lost cell phone contact. All we know is he’s injured. Rangers are searching, but there’s a lot of ground to cover.”

  “How old are the kids?” Grinch asked.

  “Eight and twelve,” came back. “Parents are early forties. Then there’s the grandfather. He’s mid-sixties.”

  “It’s the twelve-year-old who went missing,” another voice said.

  Grinch tried to sort out the voices, but with the exception of Karla, the only female on board, the radio distortion made it impossible. It didn’t matter. He trusted them as a team, and whether he attached a name to each one didn’t change their competence. He simply listened.

  Meanwhile, he pushed thoughts of Dylan out of his mind. This was the job. And if he trusted anyone as much as his Blackthorne teams or the crew in the helo with him, it was Elizabeth. If anyone could keep Dylan from worrying she could. He’d given her the keys to his house. She’d told him she’d handle it. And he’d rushed off.

  Grinch set the helo down near the National Park Visitor Center. He followed his teammates as they scrambled out, seeking the search coordinator. Grinch recognized him at once, even if he didn’t know him personally. Under six feet, but his carriage made him seem half a head taller. He had a large map pinned to a Park Service trail map board, and as people stepped forward, he’d point to the map, then write something on his clipboard, and repeat with the next searcher.

  Grinch and his group reported in. “I’m the helo jockey,” he said, “but I’ve had some experience in search and rescue ops. If there’s a chance I can spot them from the air, I’ll do some recon.”

  The ranger extended his hand. “Tim Murdock. Glad you could pitch in. Hoped we’d have use of your bird to med-evac the victims by now, but these damn tourists—think they can come in here from Brooklyn and commune with nature after spending a few hours with the Discovery Channel. Instead of sticking together, staying put, they seem to have decided if they spread out, they’d stand a better chance of finding the kid. At least the fire seems to be moving the other way. We’ve got every department working it, but it spreads us thin in the rescue department.”

  “Area’s heavily forested,” Murdock said. “Thanks, but I doubt you’d be able to spot someone under the canopy. Especially with the smoke.”

  Too bad the county helo didn’t have anything remotely approaching the surveillance equipment on a Blackthorne op. Grinch thought of Fozzie, one of Blackthorne’s best, who could spot the fleas on a squirrel’s balls from five hundred feet. He’d probably have found the missing targets long ago. Hell, they’d probably be sharing a post-op beer by now.

  “Understood,” Grinch said.

  Murdock swiped a hand across his brow. “At least I don’t have to worry about you getting lost, too. Volunteers are great, but untrained ones can be worse than no help at all.”

  “On the bright side, you do have a last-known location for one of them,” Grinch said. “And there’s plenty of daylight left.”

  Behind them, the door to the Visitor Center opened, then banged shut. A ranger jogged toward them. “Fire’s shifted again,” she said. “Headed toward the last reported position of our missing man.”

  “Crap,” Murdock said.

  Grinch felt for the man. Sending people into the path of a fire would likely mean more injuries. But not sending them could mean the man would die. One victim on your conscience, or many? Either way, they’d be with you forever.

  “Where do you want us?” Grinch asked.

  Murdock swiped his brow again, then met Grinch’s gaze. “I need you to stay put. If you’re on search duty, you’d have to get back to your chopper, which would waste time.”

  “Understood,” Grinch said.

  Murdock surveyed the group. “Any of you have medical training?”

  As one, they nodded.

  “All right.” He caught Grinch’s eye. “Keep whoever you need to effect an airlift rescue. The others, head over to sector three.” Murdock tapped the map.

  “Two’s enough,” Grinch said.

  His team exchanged glances, nods, and one of them stepped to Grinch’s side. The rest jogged off in the direction Murdock had indicated. The man extended his hand. “Don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Cutter.”

  “Grinch. You a medic?”

  “Nope. An elevator operator. I guarantee the fastest descent and the smoothest basket ride up for the patient.” Cutter waggled his eyebrows. “Assuming you can keep the bird steady.”

  “Not a problem.”

  Cutter lifted his head and sniffed. “Smoke. Wind’s shifted.” He pointed to the sky, glowing orange. “Flames over there. Fire probably jumped.”

  “Looks like it’s coming closer.”

  Chapter 37

  Sitting in Grinch’s den, Elizabeth flipped off the news at the sound of the boys clattering downstairs. No need for them to see the reports of the wildfires out of control. All Dylan knew was that his father had gone “to help people” but not that he was helping the firefighters, or putting himself in danger.

  She wondered if he’d even grasp the concept that firefighters were in danger on the job. To kids his age, being a firefighter was an exciting concept.

  She, as an adult, knew better. Which was why an icy bowling ball wrapped in barbed wire sat in her stomach. She attempted a cheery expression when they burst into the room.

  “Is my Grinch home yet?” Dylan asked.

  “Not yet, slugger.” She tousled his hair. “Remember, he said he might be gone all night. You want to watch a movie?”

  “Shrek?” Will said.

  “Can we have popcorn?” Dylan asked.

  “What’s a movie without popcorn?” Elizabeth found the DVD. A glance at the clock told her it would stretch their bedtimes, but she didn’t have the energy to keep up the façade that everything was fine.

  “If my Grinch doesn’t come home in time, will you sing?” Dylan asked.

  “Of course. But you know, I’m not a good singer like you and … your Grinch.”

  “Then you can sing loud. Like Will.”

  She couldn’t help but smile, and she gathered him in a hug. “If you don’t think I’ll scare Chester and Reggie.”

  That earned her a giggle.

  Too restless to watch with the boys, Elizabeth went into the kitchen. She’d already baked two kinds of cookies, but she had to keep busy or she’d go crazy with worry.

  By the time the movie was finished, a pot of her special spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove. Wiping her hands on her apron, she went into the den. “Time for bed, guys
. Go upstairs and brush your teeth. I’ll be up soon.”

  “Can Chester and Reggie sleep with us?” Dylan asked. “Please?”

  “All right, but not on your beds,” Elizabeth said, knowing it would never happen. She added the empty popcorn bowl to the pots and pans she’d deal with once the boys were asleep.

  After promising Dylan to send “his Grinch” upstairs when he got home, and a chorus of “On Top of Spaghetti,” Elizabeth took care of the dishes, put the spaghetti sauce in the fridge, and poured a glass of wine, taking it to the porch. The wind had picked up, blowing clouds of dust through the air while the aspens bowed to its force.

  Did she smell smoke? How far away was the fire? Gazing into the distance, she said a silent prayer for Grinch’s safety, and for a successful rescue before going inside and locking up. A check of the news didn’t give her any new information. She muted the television. Sitting in what had been her usual spot in the den, sipping her second glass of wine, she stared at Grinch’s empty chair.

  And what was she doing, thinking about Grinch? She was worried about him, nothing more. The news had reported how many acres of forest had burned, how many volunteer fire departments had responded to the call, but nothing about human casualties. That had to be good.

  She picked up her book, hoping it might settle her. At least she knew the hero and the heroine would end up with their happily-ever-after. If she wanted hers, it would have to be on her own. No way could she live with this kind of worry.

  “Mom?”

  She blinked awake. Will stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. She squinted at the clock. Almost three. “What’s the matter?”

  “Dylan. He’s scared. Of the wind, I think, and he wants Grinch.”

  Elizabeth bolted for the stairs. She flipped on the bedroom light. Dylan sat on his bed, clutching his teddy bear. As expected, Chester lay beside him, whining quietly, nudging his nose under Dylan’s arms, and Reggie was curled up at the foot of Will’s bed.