by Katie Ruggle
There it was. Kit felt a little silly for how she’d been peering around earlier, hunting for the source of the fire, when it was so obvious now that it was within sight. The lower-level windows of the two-story house glowed red, and smoke billowed from the eaves. She was no firefighter, but it looked to her like the interior was engulfed—at least the first floor.
There wasn’t a garage that she could see, and no vehicles were parked in the driveway, so she hoped that this was one of the many homes that sat vacant over the winter. Without the right equipment or training, she couldn’t run in to save anyone, but she didn’t think she’d be able to stop herself if she knew someone was inside.
Hugh angled his car to block most of the road, and Theo whipped his squad car around and turned onto the next cross street. Kit assumed that he was going to block traffic on the other side of the burning house. She parked off to the side, as far out of the way as she could manage without driving into the snowbank. Without lights or a marked car, she didn’t want to use her vehicle to try to control traffic—not that Monroe seemed to even have any traffic, except for their three cars.
Hugh’s siren went silent, although his lights still flashed. In the sudden quiet, Kit could hear the approaching wail of the fire trucks, and she felt her shoulders lower from where they’d been jammed up around her ears. The firefighters would be there soon, so she wouldn’t have to risk getting burned to a crisp if someone inside the house needed rescuing.
She got out and hurried over to meet Hugh. Her instinct was to rush to the house to make sure no one was inside, but she knew better. Getting herself hurt wouldn’t help anyone. She knew she needed to wait for Fire to arrive, since they had the right tools and training.
As Hugh climbed out of his squad car, he stumbled slightly before catching the door for balance. His gaze immediately locked on to her as she approached, and he scowled. After one look at his intimidating expression, she didn’t ask if he was okay. She did wonder what was wrong, though. Otto had mentioned a cast being removed from his arm, but that wouldn’t make his leg unsteady. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it, so she kept her mouth closed.
“This is the Nailors’ place,” he said, striding around the car to get closer to the burning house. “They’re in California for the winter.”
“No one should be in there, then.” Her stomach unknotted slightly as she followed.
“Not unless they have a squatter,” he said, his face serious as he eyed the windows. Although they were still a safe distance from the house, the heat on her face went from gently warming to uncomfortable in just a few strides. Kit stopped, scanning around the structure for a propane tank or anything that might explode. It looked clear, except for the wooded area in the backyard. She hoped it wouldn’t spread. After just another step, Hugh halted, as well. “Still, they’re going to hate to hear about this.”
The fire engine’s siren wailed loudly as it turned the corner and came into view, and Hugh jogged back to his squad car, backing it up a few feet so the truck could roll close to the burning house. A second fire department vehicle—a rescue truck—followed, and Hugh’s squad moved to block the road again.
Feeling useless, Kit did her best to stay out of the way. It grated on her to not be helping. After eight years with her old department in Wisconsin, she’d been at the point where she’d almost always known what to do in any situation. Now, she felt like she’d been reduced to a rookie again.
Shaking off her moment of self-pity, she watched as a handful of firefighters got out of the trucks, pulling out equipment and unrolling hoses with quick efficiency. Hugh headed toward the firefighter who was giving orders next to the engine.
“Good thing it’s unoccupied,” the fireman said as he attached a hose to the side of the truck. “We’re running on a skeleton crew here.” He sent Kit a quick glance before refocusing on his task. “You must be new.”
“Yes.” Since his hands were occupied, she didn’t hold hers out for him to shake. “Kit Jernigan.”
“Steve Springfield.” Although he didn’t actually smile, still focused on his task, his raised eyebrows made him look amused. “Hugh’s your PTO?”
Uncertain, she looked at Hugh, her stomach dropping at the idea. She knew she’d be assigned to an officer for her probationary training period, but she hadn’t realized that it would be Hugh. He didn’t seem all that impressed with her, so she hoped it wasn’t going to be an endless and miserable two months until she was allowed to take calls on her own.
“That I am,” Hugh answered her unspoken question.
Steve tightened the hose connection before sending Kit another fast but sympathetic glance. “Good luck with that.”
“Hey!” Hugh protested, but they both ignored him.
“Thanks,” Kit said dryly. Steve called out to someone manning the controls at the top of the truck before flipping down the face shield of his helmet and jogging toward the flaming house, hose nozzle in hand. He stopped to wave back a firefighter heading toward the house carrying a wicked-looking ax.
“It’s too far gone!” Steve shouted over the roar of the flames and the rumbling engines. “We need to keep it from spreading to the trees. Help Johnson!” The ax-wielding firefighter nodded and hurried toward the west side of the house.
Before Steve could move any closer to the fire, Kit called out, “Need help? I haven’t had firefighter training, but I’d be happy to do any grunt work.” Belatedly, she looked at Hugh. It hadn’t crossed her mind to check with him before offering to help. She wasn’t accustomed to asking permission from anyone except her sergeant or lieutenant. The whole starting at the bottom thing was going to take some getting used to. “Unless Hugh had a different plan?”
He smirked at her. “Nice attempted save, but that’s a good idea. Where do you need us, Steve?”
“Thanks.” Steve whistled sharply, catching the attention of the firefighter on top of the engine. “Calvarone! Volunteers!” He pointed at Kit and Hugh before turning back to the fire.
“Both of you grab helmets from the cab, and I’ll put you to work.” Calvarone grinned down at them from his perch on top of the truck before refocusing on the controls. As Kit and Hugh moved toward the passenger-side door of the engine, Steve’s booming shout made Kit’s head whip toward the fire.
“Back! Get back!” he yelled, and the firefighters retreated. One side of the roof sagged before the entire west side of the house started to droop. It felt like time slowed down as the house caved in on itself with a deafening crash, sending flaming debris flying over the heads of the fleeing firefighters. Even Kit ducked, although she wasn’t close enough to be in danger, and then her gaze raked the area, looking to see who was injured. Her hand reached for a nonexistent portable radio, and she cursed her lack of equipment before remembering Hugh was there as well. She turned toward him, but he was already calling for an ambulance.
“Johnson! Lee! Chausky!” Steve, upright and appearing unhurt, immediately started calling for each firefighter’s status. When the last one answered that he was okay, Kit felt her shoulders finally drop as the tension left her. She met Hugh’s gaze, and they exchanged a look of utter relief.
“Firefighters are nuts,” Hugh said as he fished two helmets out from the back seat of the cab. “Everyone knows you run away from fire, not toward it.”
She laughed. “Just like everyone knows you run away from the sound of gunfire, not toward it?”
Handing one of the helmets to her, he shrugged. “I didn’t say cops aren’t nuts, too.”
Kit spent the next few hours in a borrowed fire helmet, fetching tools and bottles of drinking water and everything else that the firefighters requested. Hugh and Theo helped as well, and Kit felt a slight easing of her first-day nerves. It was good to see that her new partners were willing to lend a hand, even when it wasn’t part of their job description. When the flames were out and the firefig
hters were digging through the ashes and blackened wreckage, searching for smoldering embers, Kit approached Steve. She was careful to stay out of everyone’s way and far from anything that looked like it could fall on her head.
“Need anything else?” She handed Steve a water bottle, and he accepted it with a weary smile of thanks.
“We’re pretty much done here, except for the mopping up.” Unscrewing the lid, he took a drink before slogging back into the blackened shell that had been a house just hours earlier. Looking over his shoulder, he called, “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” Now that she was standing still, Kit realized how tight her muscles had gotten. Putting her hands on her lower back, she stretched out her spine as she surveyed the scene. Water from the hoses and melting snow created a muddy moat around the burnt skeleton of the ruined house, adding to the desolate picture.
“What a mess,” Hugh muttered, echoing her thoughts as he walked up next to her.
Kit turned toward him. “Has someone contacted the owners?”
“I left a message, but they haven’t called back yet.” He frowned, adjusting his borrowed fire helmet. “They’ve owned this place for decades. They’re going to be crushed.”
“At least no one was hurt,” Kit said, watching Steve as he lifted a blackened board.
Hugh made a wordless sound of agreement.
“Steve seems less annoying than most firefighters,” Kit said absently, and then darted a look at Hugh when she realized she was talking to her new PTO, whom she’d only known for an hour. But judging by his huge grin, he agreed with her.
“Yeah, Steve’s a good egg. Too bad he’s moving.”
“Where’s he going?”
“His brother has a ranch southeast of here. Steve’s already sent his four kids there, but he’s not leaving until his spot gets filled. As you can see, their numbers are already low.” Hugh spread his arms, indicating the handful of firefighters scattered around the scene. Even though Kit knew they were in a much smaller town than what she was used to, it really was a ridiculously tiny number.
“Why are they so short-handed?” she asked.
“Same reason Steve’s leaving as soon as he can.” Although Hugh sounded amused, there was a grimness underlying his voice. “The semi-apocalypse scared some people away. Well, that, and the fact that this town is always a handful short of a ghost town in the winter.”
Kit could understand that. Just her short drive had almost been enough to send her out of town screaming, and, unlike Steve, she didn’t have any kids to protect. “Can’t really blame him for leaving.”
Before Hugh could respond, Steve gave a wordless shout from the middle of the wreckage. Exchanging a glance, Kit and Hugh jogged toward him.
“What is it?” Hugh asked, carefully picking his way through the still-smoldering debris.
“Remains.” Steve’s voice was grim as he bent over a blackened form.
“Human?”
Kit gave Hugh a sideways look at his question, but Steve seemed to take it in stride as he took out his cell phone. “Yeah. Pretty sure this is the point of origin, too.”
“Shit.” With a heavy exhale, Hugh reached for the portable radio on his belt. “Dispatch, we’re going to need the county coroner and the chief.”
“Copy.”
Tapping at his phone screen, Steve raised his cell to his ear. “Hey, Captain. You might want to call the fire marshal and then head this way. We’re here at a structure fire with at least one casualty.”
Kit pulled out her camera again and took multiple photos of the charred shape, staying several feet away so she didn’t contaminate the scene. Although she’d worked on a few arson cases with the investigators at her old department, she wasn’t an expert on burns and the effects of fire. What remained of the shrunken limbs were flexed in the pugilistic posture typical of burn victims, and the ash-colored skull had fractured into pieces.
Hugh gave a sharp whistle, making Kit look at him, but he was focused on catching Theo’s attention. “Can you grab tape?”
Raising a hand in acknowledgment, Theo headed toward his squad car.
As soon as Steve ended the call with his captain, Hugh asked quietly, “What do you think? Arson, or a lost hiker falling asleep with a lit cigarette?”
As he stared at the remains, the muscles tightened in Steve’s jaw. “Only if they doused themselves with some sort of accelerant, first.”
Air left Hugh’s lungs in an audible huff. “Seriously? Can’t we catch a break? The worst crime around here used to be Mr. Wittlespoon stealing from the diner’s take-a-penny dish, and now people are either blowing shit up or burning it down. For Pete’s sake, are some petty misdemeanors too much to ask for?”
Steve didn’t respond except for a small shake of his head. He looked tired.
Theo approached, carrying multiple rolls of police tape. “Casualty?”
“Yeah, and possible arson, although there’s no evidence on the second one yet. We’re going with Steve’s first impression,” Hugh said, still keeping his voice low so it didn’t carry past their small group.
Swearing under his breath, Theo rubbed his temple and then adjusted his borrowed fire helmet. Kit noted that he looked exhausted and grim, but not surprised. Her first-day nerves fired up again, but this time, she wasn’t worried about whether she’d fit in or if her boss would be difficult. Her new town was a devastated wreck and a possible murder-slash-arson happened within the first hour of her first day.
She was beginning to wonder if she’d survive this new job.
Chapter 4
“Let’s secure the scene,” Theo said, holding out a roll of tape to Kit. “We’ll both start at that tree. You go clockwise, and I’ll go counter. We’ll meet at the back.”
“Got it.” Accepting the tape, she returned her borrowed helmet to the engine’s cab before moving toward the tree he’d indicated. A small crowd had gathered on the other side of Hugh’s squad car, and Kit pulled out her cell phone. The bystanders’ attention seemed to be focused on Steve, Hugh, and the final efforts of the firefighters to soak any remaining hot spots, so she was able to take photos of the watchers.
“Good idea,” Theo said quietly as she slid her phone back in her pocket, and she gave him a small smile.
As she unrolled the tape, she kept her eyes open, looking for anything—or anyone—that seemed out of place. Her effort felt futile, though, since there was debris from the burned house scattered everywhere. The firefighters’ efforts had created an even bigger mess, and she grimaced as she watched one soaking what was left of an exterior wall. Although she knew the work they were doing was necessary to put out the fire—and keep it out—it was still hard to watch as the crime scene was destroyed.
Rounding the corner of the yard, she wrapped the tape around a convenient small aspen tree and continued along the side of what had been the house. She noted which of the few neighboring homes had a clear line of sight, even as she hoped they weren’t vacant for the winter. That didn’t seem too likely. The burned house was isolated and on the very edge of town.
Once she was able to see the backyard, she slowed, taking in the scene. If she were the arsonist, she would’ve entered and exited through the back. Except for the house a half-block to the east, which looked empty, the backyard was hidden from view. A thick growth of trees bordered the south edge of the yard, providing a potential escape route.
Kit stepped into the trees a few feet before turning east. Most of the snow in the yard had been melted by fire and the firefighters’ spray, but a slushy ridge remained just inside the tree line. As she made her way along the south side of the property, she kept her gaze on the ground, looking for any indication that a potential suspect had made their way into the woods.
Glancing up, she saw that Theo had stopped running tape along his side so that he could have a quiet conversation wi
th Hugh. The sight of their small huddle made her chest twinge. She used to be part of something like that, but now she was the new cop, the interloper, the one not to be trusted. Impatiently yanking herself out of her moment of angst, she refocused on the ground around her as she continued unrolling the tape.
Right before she reached the edge of the property, she saw something in the half-melted snow bordering the tree line. Crouching down, she spotted a crescent-shaped indentation.
“Hey, guys,” she called, pulling out her phone. As Hugh and Theo made their way toward her, she took a picture of the mark in the snow, added a strip of police tape to the shot to give it scale, and then took another photo. “What do you think? Boot heel print?”
The two men squatted to examine it more closely. “Sure looks like it.” Hugh straightened, looking at the ground around the print. “Any others?”
Kit stood and examined the area around the print. “Not that I can see. The yard’s a mess, and there’s not much snow cover in the wooded area. Want me to get Justice and see if he can pick up a trail?”
“Yeah.” Now Theo was taking pictures, although he used an official scale instead of improvising with police tape like she had.
Hugh’s face lit up. “Bring on the tracking dog! This is great. Now we just need an arson dog and a cadaver dog, and we’ll have a dog for any occasion.”
Rubbing the line between his eyebrows, Theo sighed. “Monroe doesn’t need a cadaver dog or an arson dog.”
His gaze moving pointedly from the burned shell of the house where Steve stood guard over the body and back to Theo, Hugh didn’t say a word.
“These past few months have been an anomaly,” Theo said, an annoyed growl underlining his words. “We don’t need specialized K9s for cadavers and arsons. We do need people to quit killing and burning down buildings.”