Page 8 of Through the Fire
The camera’s autofocus kicked in, but it was too late. Shot forgotten, Wes returned the camera to the table and grabbed his binoculars, barely noticing as the startled hawk flew away. Scanning the area, he searched for the smoke he’d spotted through his camera lens. Although Colorado’s traditional wildland fire season was technically over, he still kept watch over Monroe and the forested acres that surrounded the tiny town.
Peering through the binoculars, he found the grayish-white plume again. Without looking away, he reached out again—for his radio this time. The town had already had a rough few weeks. The last thing it needed was another disaster.
Too bad that’s exactly what it had.
* * *
“You can ride with me, greenie,” Hugh said, heading for one of the squad cars.
“I’ll follow. I have my dog with me.” As if to prove her statement true, Justice popped up and stuck his jowly muzzle out of the partially opened window. All three of the other cops made beelines for her SUV, and she grinned, her spirits lightening for the first time since she’d met her new unit. Unlocking her car, she used her body to block Justice from leaping out until she could hook his leash to his harness. He was trained to wait for her command before exiting the car, but he was wiggling with excitement, and Kit knew he had a tendency to forget his manners when new people—and places and animals and smells—caught his attention.
The leash snap clicked into place. “Okay.” As soon as she moved aside, he launched himself at the closest of the cops. His front paws hit Otto right in the belly as the dog tried to climb up the big man to lick his face.
“Justice, off.” Kit was relieved when the dog listened, dropping to his haunches with his skinny tail whipping back and forth, making a one-winged snow angel. Otto didn’t seem bothered by the enthusiastic greeting. Crouching in front of Justice, he ran his hands over the dog’s long, floppy ears, and the tail-wagging accelerated into turbo mode.
“He listens well for a hound,” Otto said approvingly, and Kit beamed.
“Thank you,” she said as Hugh elbowed Otto aside to get to the dog. Theo shoved his way in as well. Justice gave a heavy, blissful sigh, in heaven from all the attention. “It took a lot of time and effort, but he does really well now. We’re going to start working off lead once we settle in.”
Hugh ran his hand over one of Justice’s long ears and held it out to the side. “I can’t get over these ears. They’re so floppy.”
Glancing at the sharply pricked ears of the Belgian Malinois in the back of the squad car next to them, Kit smiled. “Not quite what you’re used to.”
Three portable radios beeped in unison, and the men straightened, wincing at the crackle of feedback until Otto and Hugh turned their radios off, leaving only Theo’s on.
“Fire Rescue One, there’s been a report of a possible structure fire in the area of Hibberd Street and Canyon Road.”
After a short pause, a male voice responded. “Fire One copies. What’s the address?”
“Unknown at this time. The complainant is the forest service lookout at Sayer Tower.”
“Copy. En route to the general area of Hibberd and Canyon Road.” The firefighter didn’t sound happy, and Kit couldn’t blame him. Searching for the fire would take precious time.
“We respond to fire calls, so I guess you’re getting a trial by literal fire,” Hugh said as he headed for the driver’s door of his squad car. Not wanting to lose his new friend and personal masseuse so soon, Justice tried to follow, but Kit’s grip on his leash kept him close to her. “Follow me.”
So much for getting a day to fill out paperwork, she thought, loading Justice into the back seat before climbing behind the wheel. As she cranked the engine, she smiled. If she was honest, taking a call was much more interesting than reading the SOP manual and completing a W-4. It wasn’t what she’d expected from this sleepy-looking town, but nothing—from the time she’d arrived in Colorado until now—had gone how she’d thought it would. She just needed to roll with the changes and try to learn as she went.
As she followed Hugh out of the lot, Kit noted that his car and Theo’s right behind them were marked with “Bedrock County Sheriff’s Department.” Only Otto’s SUV, which turned in the other direction as he headed to Gordon Schwartz’s place, had “Monroe Police Department” painted on the sides. Kit wondered if they’d lost their vehicles when the station was bombed.
Lights and sirens activated, Hugh wove his way through the residential streets, and Kit followed, marveling again at the silent emptiness of the town. “Why do I feel like we’re going to be fighting off zombies when we get to the fire?” she asked Justice, who made a quiet huff of what Kit took as agreement.
Despite the wail of the two squad-car sirens, it felt too quiet in her car. Ever since she’d left her old police department, the lack of a radio had left an aching hole inside her, as if it were a missing limb. She felt cut off and unhappily oblivious without that link, and she reached down to touch her cell phone where it sat in her pocket. Despite the layer of fabric separating her from it, the hard shape reassured her. She wasn’t completely cut off from everything and everyone.
Theo slowed, and Kit assumed they were getting close. The air was getting hazier, and she could smell smoke—the acrid burn told her that it wasn’t a cozy little campfire. Something was burning that wasn’t supposed to be burning.
Kit turned, staying close to the squad car in front of her. It was a real-life version of Hot and Cold—with the potential for real-life property damage or even death. She scanned the area, looking for the source of the smoke. Their small convoy turned left and the haze thickened, irritating Kit’s throat. She knew it would be hard to stop coughing once she started, so she fought the urge as they rounded a curve in the road. The houses thinned even more, making her suspect that they were getting close to the edge of town.
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.
“This is the Nailors’ place,” Hugh said, striding around his car to get closer to the burning house. “They’re in California for the winter.”
“No one should be in there, then.” Kit’s stomach unknotted slightly as she followed.
“Not unless they have a squatter,” Hugh 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 the fire wouldn’t spread. After just another step, Hugh halted as well. “Still, they’re going to hate hearing about this.”
