Wilde Heat

by Bella Andre

  She left the bedroom and poked her head into a second bedroom, down the hall. Two twin beds were on opposite walls, a Top Gun poster beside one of the beds, a Guns N' Roses poster over the other. It wasn't too hard to figure out which was which--Logan had definitely been in full-on badass mode as a teen. She smiled. He never would have gone for the regimented feel of the Tom Cruise hit.

  It didn't look like the room had changed much in the past twenty years. Without a woman around to spearhead a house-wide cleanup, Joseph certainly didn't seem to be the kind of man who cared about updating his surroundings.

  She opened the dusty dresser under the window and sneezed as she pulled out a pile of papers and photos. On top was a picture of Logan and Dennis jumping off a rock into a lake in cutoff shorts. She couldn't imagine having been a teenage girl and seeing such beauty. The years had given Logan a rugged, hard beauty, but even at seventeen, she could see the man he'd become.

  She tucked the photo into her jeans and continued flipping through the stack of photos, until one of them made her stop and do a double take.

  It was a fairly recent picture of Logan sandwiched between two women. And Maya was nearly certain that one of the women was Dennis's girlfriend, Jenny.

  Maya studied the photo, taking in the fact that Jenny was looking at Logan with naked adoration, and all at once, that niggling feeling that had been dogging her heels all day clicked into place.

  "Have you been under my nose the whole time?" she asked herself, her brain flying through the possibilities, through everything that had happened.

  Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket and she was just reaching for it when the front door creaked open. Her heart pounded hard beneath her breastbone.

  From the phone, she heard Chief Stevens tell her, "Tony dated someone named Jenny," and she whispered, "I'm in Joseph's cabin. Help," then closed the phone and slipped it into her pocket, along with a pen she found on top of an old wooden table in the hallway.

  Slowly, making sure she was as calm as she could possibly be, she rounded the corner. Jenny was standing in the middle of the kitchen.

  "Hey there, Jenny," she said in an easy voice, even as the smell of gasoline permeated the cabin. Maya swallowed the bile that rose up in her throat.

  "It's so nice to see you again, Maya," Jenny said, as if they were two girlfriends simply getting ready to go out and grab something to eat. "Do you remember me?"

  Maya forced a smile. "Sure. We met a couple of times yesterday."

  "Oh no, I've seen you before. Six months ago, actually."

  Maya's heart pounded hard. "Are you sure about that?"

  Jenny's mouth twisted. "I've never been more sure of anything."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  LOGAN RAN up the trail at a fierce pace, his lungs burning, sweat pouring into his eyes and down his chest. Smoke and ash fell from the sky, blanketing his clothes and skin in a dark, sooty layer of burned-up brush.

  On the run from his house, with Maya following bravely behind him, he'd noted the astonishing growth of the wildfire. There must have been a thousand acres between these trails and the original burning point, and yet they were close enough now, he could see new smoke columns rising.

  The fire was moving closer with every minute that ticked by. Time was not on his side. He didn't have the leisure of running every trail split to locate Joseph. He had to guess right the first time and pray he wasn't already too late.

  It was not yet noon, and the wind had picked up speed, blowing more powerfully than usual for midday. Another strike against Joseph, against each and every one of the hotshots on this mountain working to put the wildfire out. If the winds kept up, they would send the flames straight into town, which was crammed full of tourists for the summer. Wildfire always looked for a way down to the flatlands, to the houses and cars and campgrounds, which were full of fuel. With only two main highways snaking out of town, the enormous traffic jams would make casualties inevitable.

  Hitting a Y in the trail, Logan made a split-second decision to take the right fork north, even though Joseph tended to favor the other direction when hiking. If Joseph had suited up, it was because he intended to fight the fire. This trail would lead directly to it.

  A quarter mile later, a fire whirl lifted off the hillside below him. Logan jumped back against a rock and watched the fire and ash rush up the hillside.

  Barely breaking stride at the close call, he continued up the trail until he saw that the small meadow up ahead was burning. Without gear--without even so much as a fire shelter clamped onto his belt--he couldn't go much farther. He prayed that Joseph had realized the trouble and was turning back as well.

  A familiar sound buzzed through the sound of crackling flames. Moving closer to the fire, he scanned the area for a sign of life.

  A bright yellow body moved in front of the orange wall of flames and Logan shouted, "Joseph," only once, knowing better than to waste any more breath trying to be heard over the imploding gases.

  Without any protective gear, it was borderline crazy for Logan to go in and pull Joseph out. But had their positions been reversed, he was certain that Joseph would have risked his life in the same way.

  Logan sprinted off-trail, making a beeline for the man to whom he owed his life. His debt would never be repaid, not even if he got Joseph off the mountain today in one piece.

  Fully intent on wielding his chainsaw, Joseph didn't notice when Logan ran up behind him. Knowing better than to tap on the arm a man holding heavy, deadly machinery, Logan picked up a rock and threw it at Joseph's leg.

  Joseph's head whipped around, his mask covered in black ash, and seconds later he'd moved far enough away from the flames to put down his chainsaw and flip up his mask.

  "Logan, what the hell are you doing out here? This fire's a killer. It's no place for a kid. Get back to the cabin."

  Logan instantly understood that Joseph had traveled back to a time when he was lead hotshot and Logan was a teenage kid acting stupid. This wasn't the place to try to talk Joseph back to the present, not while a killer was on the loose.

  First, Logan had to get him to safety. Then they'd work on putting the pieces together and figuring out what had happened today.

  "You've got to follow me out of here, Joseph. Now. It's not safe."

  Joseph had never once backed down from a fire. He had the scars from second-degree burns to prove it. But Logan couldn't wait for his agreement. He moved behind Joseph and put his hands on his shoulders, scorching his palms on the heat of the thick fire-resistant fabric, pushing Joseph in the direction of the trail, off the meadow.

  Joseph struggled over the rocky hillside under the weight of his gear.

  "Give me your pack," Logan said.

  Joseph growled, "Like hell if I'm letting you carry my gear."

  The wind howled across the mountain, taking the smoke--and flames--with it. In an instant, Logan had Joseph's pack off and in the dirt. Squatting down, he reached in and pulled out the fire shelter, praying it wasn't too old to be useful.

  Heat singed his shin and he grabbed Joseph in a bear hug and pushed him to the ground, struggling to deploy the shelter over both of them in the whipping wind, his feet to the fire, his boots jammed into the straps at the foot of the shelter. It took every bit of his strength to hold it down as flames and wind rushed over the aluminum and fiberglass tent.

  Joseph's breathing was ragged beneath him, and Logan hoped he hadn't caused the man any broken bones or other injuries that would prolong their hike back to the cabin.

  Logan had only deployed his shelter once before in all the years he'd been a hotshot. It wasn't something a guy wanted to repeat. The sensation of being micro-waved alive was even worse with two men under the silver aluminum and fiberglass cover. Radiant heat was one thing, but direct flames could burn right through to their skin.

  Still, Logan knew damn well that the most likely cause of death for a firefighter was getting scared and throwing off a shelter.

  He held fa
st to the hand-and-foot holds even as the temperature soared. The nickname "shake'n'bake" was well deserved.

  And then, as quickly as they came, the flames rushed over and off them, the wind taking them up the hill. Logan held fast in case another fireball was about to roll across the trail. He lay over Joseph for several minutes, until he was certain the fire had jumped them for good.

  Slowly, he pushed back the shelter, closing his eyes against the ash raining from the charred trees surrounding the meadow. He held out a hand to Joseph and pulled him up. In one glance, he could see Joseph's mental fog had cleared.

  "What the hell just happened?"

  "I'll tell you soon. Do you think you can run?"

  Joseph looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Of course I can."

  "Good. Head back down to the cabin as fast as you can. I'll follow behind."

  Joseph shot downhill through the meadow back to the trail at a pace that belied his years and mental wanderings. It was five minutes of good, hard running before Logan felt safe enough to slow their pace. Moving alongside Joseph, he put his hand on his arm.

  "We can slow down now."

  Testament to all his years as an elite firefighter, Joseph only took it down to a very fast hike. He was winded but determined.

  Logan didn't want to blame his mentor for what had happened, not when he probably couldn't have done anything about it. But it was time to make some command decisions. Screw Joseph's independence. He was coming to live with him. It was the only way Logan could make sure something like this didn't happen again.

  A sudden vision of his house on fire backhanded Logan. He'd been so worried about Joseph that he'd temporarily forgotten that his house was gone.

  Fine. He'd move in with Joseph while he rebuilt. Although maybe this time around, he hoped he'd have to plan enough space for a wife. And children.

  "What the hell happened?" Joseph asked again.

  Logan weighed his words carefully. "I'm not completely sure. Maya and I went to the cabin and saw that you were gone."

  Joseph rubbed his chin as he tried to work out what had happened. "All I remember was waking up from a nap and seeing Dennis's girlfriend in my living room, holding up my gear. She said she wanted to see what I looked like in it. She helped me put everything on."

  Jenny? "Is that the first time she's done that?"

  Joseph nodded. "I haven't put these on in years. Not until she mentioned it."

  Logan's mind reeled with the implications. Was it possible that Jenny was responsible for the Desolation Wilderness fire? For the motel fire? For Robbie's explosion and the car bomb too? Had she been laughing inside as he'd practically begged her to spend time with Joseph, to "take care of him"?

  She'd taken care of him, all right. She'd tried to send him straight to his death.

  But why?

  "Did she send you out here with a chainsaw? Was this her idea for you to come out and fight the fire?"

  Joseph's thick gray brows furrowed over his eyes. "I don't know. I can't remember much of anything else." He shot Logan an apologetic glance. "You were right. I should have gotten on that plane to Hawaii. I almost killed us both out here."

  "Forget about it. We made it out alive," Logan said gruffly.

  But Maya was still in the cabin. And Logan had never been so scared in all his life. Because if Jenny had written the letter in the firebox in Maya's hotel room, her intent was clear: "I've often dreamed of seeing your long hair on fire and watching your soft skin melt down to the bone."

  "Maya's in your cabin, Joseph. She's waiting for us. I left her all alone. She could be in trouble."

  For all he knew, Jenny had been waiting in the wings to see if they'd made it out of his house alive.

  Joseph picked up the pace. "Let's go get your girl."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  MAYA QUICKLY assessed her surroundings, looking for something she could use in self-defense, and decided the fireplace poker was her best bet.

  "Actually," she said in a perfectly calm voice as she slowly made her way toward the fireplace, "I'm glad you're here. I've been wanting to talk with you."

  Jenny frowned. "With me? About what?"

  Maya forced herself to sit down on the arm of the couch beside the stone fireplace. "I'm worried about Dennis. About some of the things he's told me." If she could convince Jenny that she thought Dennis was the guilty one, maybe she could escape.

  "What kind of things?"

  Maya waved one hand in the air. "You know, about his relationship with his dad and Logan. And the competition between them."

  Jenny smiled viciously. "Dennis hates Logan."

  "Really? Why?"

  "He's jealous. After all, Logan's so much better-looking. So much better at everything. Everybody loves him."

  Maya's heart thudded as Jenny moved toward her. The poker was almost within reach. She'd never hurt anyone before, but she'd do whatever she needed to do to make sure this terrible woman sat behind bars for the rest of her worthless life.

  Jenny got a dreamy look on her face. "I love him too, you know."

  "Of course you love Dennis," Maya said, purposefully misunderstanding Jenny's intent. "He seems like a great guy. And very devoted to you."

  "Not Dennis, you idiot. I'm talking about Logan. I love Logan. We were meant to be together."

  Maya edged closer to the fireplace. "Does Logan know you feel this way about him?"

  "We would have been together if it weren't for you. I was there. I saw you six months ago."

  "Where did you see us?"

  "When you and Logan started your fuck-fest. I walked in and heard you talking."

  "The bar was empty," Maya stated, but now that she thought about it, she'd been so upset about everything that she supposed she could have gone past a crowd of people and been blind to every last one of them.

  "I forgot my wallet after the lunch shift and when I came back I walked in on you. Not that either of you noticed. You were too busy sucking face. And after that he didn't want anything to do with other girls anymore. He was under your goddamned spell. What did you do to him?"

  "I didn't do anything," Maya said honestly. He'd rocked her world and she'd left him stone cold.

  "Like hell you didn't," Jenny spat. "He hasn't touched another woman since you left."

  He hadn't touched another woman.

  Had their stolen kisses meant as much to him as they had to her? Maya was deeply moved by Logan's behavior, even as she continued to face Jenny.

  Jenny's rant continued, unrelenting in its fury. "He stopped coming into the bar. I hardly saw him anymore. He was supposed to be mine."

  Maya swallowed. "I'm sorry." She forced the words out between her lips, hoping they sounded somewhat sincere.

  "No you're not. You're fucking him again, aren't you?"

  Maya jumped to her feet. "No."

  "Don't lie to me."

  Maya followed Jenny's eyes to the corner of the folded photo sticking out of her pocket. Just as Jenny grabbed it, Maya's cell phone fell to the ground, and Jenny stomped it hard with her boots.

  Maya stared at the busted phone and tried not to focus on how much trouble she was in. Hopefully Chief Stevens had heard her whisper and was on his way.

  Jenny shook the photo in Maya's face. "You're in love with him, aren't you? And he probably said he loves you, hasn't he?"

  Maya hesitated a moment too long and Jenny crumpled up the photo and threw it on the floor.

  "He did. I can tell. He thinks you're his soul mate. He wants you to have his babies."

  Maya shook her head back and forth, saying "No" again as she inched toward the poker. She nearly had her hand around it when Jenny pulled a handgun from her pocket. Maya went completely still.

  "Whatever," the crazy woman said in a dull tone as she waved the gun in Maya's face. "Everything will be better once you're gone. Once all of you are dead. You should have died yesterday, in the truck. Then I wouldn't have to do this."

  "You still do
n't have to do it, Jenny," Maya said. "I can help you. I can tell my boss the fire was an accident. I can tell the Forest Service it's impossible to determine how it started. I'll give you money, enough to get you out of the country and make sure you never need to work again."

  "You could do all that for me?"

  Hope flared in Maya's chest. "Give me five minutes on the phone. That's all I need."

  Jenny chewed on her lower lip. "Um, no thanks. I think it'll be more fun to kill you instead."

  Maya shivered at the delight in the woman's voice. At this point, a mental institution was a far likelier future home for Jenny than a prison.

  "But before I do, I need you to help me with something," Jenny said. "Out on the back deck. I've got two dozen containers of gasoline waiting." She shoved the butt of the gun into Maya's spine. "Go."

  Maya slipped her hand in her pocket, grabbed the ballpoint pen, and spun around, lashing her weapon at Jenny's eyes. The tip of the point struck Jenny in the neck, just below her ear.

  Jenny screamed, "You're going to pay for that, you little bitch," and as Maya lunged for the fireplace poker, Jenny threw herself on Maya's back, scratching at her hair.

  Tears of pain filled Maya's eyes as Jenny ripped a thick wad of hair from her scalp and dug her gun in deep between Maya's ribs.

  "Maybe I should just kill you now," Jenny hissed.

  No. Maya had promised Logan she'd be here waiting for him when he returned. He'd be back soon with Joseph in tow and together they'd find a way to thwart Jenny.

  She needed to hold out--and stay alive--until then.

  "I'm sorry," she ground out. "I'll do whatever you want. Tell me what you want me to do."

  Jenny lay across Maya for a long moment, long enough for Maya to wonder if the last thing she was going to hear was the gun's release. But then Jenny shifted her weight off to the side. Pushing Maya into a standing position with her gun, Jenny shoved her out the door.

  A row of gas cans was waiting for them. "Start on that side and work your way back to me." She massaged one bicep with her free hand. "Lighting Logan's house on fire was hard work. I should probably go to the gym more often."

  Maya saw red. This bitch had killed a hotshot and all she cared about was lifting weights? "How could you do it?" she asked in a low voice.