Page 30 of Red Boar's Baby

Maybe that was what growing up meant, she thought, a little sadly.

She passed by the exit that would have taken her toward Tucson and continued home.

* * *

Two hours later, her house blew up.

CHAPTER10

After Em fellasleep in his lap, Costa put her down on the bed he’d made for her on the floor of the bedroom. He wandered around the condo, with an open but largely untouched beer sweating on the kitchen island, picking up or covering up anything that a little girl who turned into a baby antelope could possibly get into. This seemed to be nearly everything he owned.

The wall-mounted flatscreen TV played quietly in the background. Costa was only half paying attention to it. He’d flipped to a news station with the thought that some random news item might shed light on Emmeline’s unusual situation. At the very least they could find out if there were newsworthy developments in the crash, which so far didn’t seem to be the case.

“—explosion and house fire in Bisbee?—”

He stopped and pivoted to stare at the TV.

The reporter’s voiceover was interspersed with footage of flames and firefighting vehicles. Diana lived in the small town of Bisbee, near Sierra Vista, and Costa’s heart clutched.

There was no reason to think she was in any danger. There were several thousand people in the town. What on earth were the odds that Diana was involved in a random house fire? But now that he was looking at the screen, he couldn’t shake the fear. That could be Diana’s house. He’d only seen it a few times, picking her up; it was a perfectly ordinary small ranch house. There were any number of houses that looked like that. But itcouldbe her house.

He called the SCB.

“Hey, boss.” It was the deceptively lazy voice of Vir, one of their computer analysts. “What’s up?”

“Perfect, you’re exactly who I need. There’s a house fire in Bisbee. Should be some chatter about it on emergency channels. Look it up and text me the address.”

“On it, boss.”

He hung up, reached for his beer and dropped his hand away. He might need his head clear if this turned out to be something.

It’s not. You know that. House fires happen every day.

The TV screen had cut away to talking about a golf tournament when Costa’s phone vibrated. He looked down at the screen and stared at the text for a moment as if he could make it change to something else.

That was Diana’s address.

He pulled up Caine’s number before he was even aware that he was doing it. Caine answered on the first ring. “I thought you said I was—” he began.

“I don’t care what you’re doing,” Costa interrupted. “I don’t care where you are. I need you at my place now.”

He hung up.

There was a moment in which nothing happened, then a thump came from the direction of the bathroom. Caine emerged wearing a T-shirt and sweat pants, his feet shoved sockless into his shoes. He wasn’t wearing his usual sunglasses, giving his face a strange, bare aspect.

Costa, in the middle of panicking, stared at him.

“Where I was,” Caine said, “was in the middle of dinner with Gilly. You’re just lucky it wasn’t an hour later, or you’d be dealing with an even less dressed version of me. You rang, boss?”

But despite his sardonic tone, the fact that he had showed up immediately rather than complaining or texting back for details suggested that he was well aware it was serious.

“Diana’s house is on fire. It’s on the news. I need to go there now.”

Caine asked no questions, sliding instantly into all-business agent mode. “I can’t easily take you to a place I haven’t been. You know that.”

“Damn it. What’s the closest place you can get me to Bisbee?”

Caine looked at the window and frowned.

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