Page 9 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
But this place?
It had been hers.
She’d never had that before. Not really. In San Antonio, she’d had an apartment with beige walls and locks she triple-checked every night. A place to sleep, not a place to land. Not a place to breathe.
Out here, on the edge of Outlaw Ridge, she’d started to believe she could build something solid. Quiet. Real. And now it was burning to the damn ground.
“The fire department’s on their way,” Griff said from the driver’s seat. His voice was calm, but his posture was tense, alert. Watching the road, the tree line, every shadow.
She glanced at him, gave a slow nod, but shifted her attention back to the blaze.
“It’s already too late,” she murmured.
As if to prove her right, the roof gave a sickening groan and collapsed inward with a thunderous crash, sending a storm of embers and thick black smoke into the sky. The glow pulsed brighter for a moment, then dimmed as the structure sagged inward.
Lily swallowed hard. “That wasn’t random,” she said. “The same person who slashed my tires did this.”
Beside her, Griff made a low sound of agreement. He didn’t sayI know. He didn’t have to. His eyes never stopped scanning the darkness beyond the windshield.
Someone had gone after her. Not just to scare her. To ruin her. And if they thought this fire would stop her, they didn’t know her.
They’d only lit a match under everything she had left.
Griff tensed beside her, sudden and sharp. His hand moved fast, drawing his weapon as he twisted to look out the rear window.
Lily’s pulse spiked. She reached instinctively for her own gun but froze when she followed his gaze and saw the figure emerging from the trees behind them.
It was just Mrs. Diane Riggins, her widowed eighty-something neighbor from the next lot over. She wore a flannel robe over a long nightgown, her white hair tied back in a loose bun, slippers scuffing along the gravel as she hurried toward them. She squinted through her thick glasses, one hand shielding her face from the heat and smoke.
“That’s Mrs. Riggins,” Lily said under her breath, lowering her hand from her weapon. “There are trees between the houses,” she murmured to Griff. “She probably didn’t see it right away.”
Griff was already climbing out of the truck, weapon lowered but still watchful. “Ma’am,” he called out, keeping his tone steady but firm, “I’m Deputy Griff Abrams. I need you to go back inside. It’s not safe out here.”
Mrs. Riggins stopped, blinking at the fire. “Good Lord,” she whispered. “Lily, is that your—”
“Please, ma’am,” Griff said again, stepping closer, not unkind but leaving no room for argument.
The woman hesitated, her hand fluttering near her chest like a bird trying to settle. “I’ll pray,” she said softly, turning back toward her house. “I’ll pray for you.” Then she disappeared into the trees, the shadows swallowing her up.
Lily let out a breath she’d been holding. No way did she want her neighbor hurt, and there was no telling what kind of threat was out here. Lily turned back toward her house, or what was left of it, the glow of the fire still burning hard against the night.
And then, in the distance, there was a low, rising wail.
The fire engine.
The sound grew louder as the truck approached, red lights flashing through the trees.
But just as she’d known right from the start, it was too late. The damage was done.
The fire engine roared into view, lights slicing through the smoke-choked dark as it pulled into the gravel drive, tires grinding hard against the earth. Lily didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her hands were still folded in her lap, her fingers stiff and cold despite the lingering heat from the blaze.
Griff opened the driver’s side door and leaned in. His voice was quiet, even, but carried that steady weight she’d come to expect from him.
“Is it all right if I handle the fire crew?” he asked. “You stay put.”
She nodded, barely turning her head. “Yeah. Okay.”
The door shut, and she watched him stride toward the firefighters as they jumped down from the truck. They moved fast, already unspooling hoses, shouting to one another over the roar of the flames. One of them ran toward the side of the property, another yanked open a side panel and powered up the pump.
