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“That would mean giving up your career,” Sam said. “There’s not much need for an FBI special agent around here.”
He exhaled a sigh. “You and Wade had the right idea. Decide where you want to live, and then find a way to make a living.”
When she and her husband started out, she hadn’t been so sure they’d made a good decision. They were newlyweds with six acres and a good well outside Woodridge. She’d just quit her cop job and was trying to make ends meet on one salary. Within two months, she was pregnant. While expecting and unemployed, she was able to oversee every step of the construction.
The house they built was perfectly tailored for them. She’d even made the kitchen counters a few inches taller so she didn’t have to stoop when she was chopping tomatillos for green salsa. She and Wade had made love in every room and on the deck and in the garage...
“The turn is coming up,” Ty said as he squinted toward the left side of the road.
“I know where it is.” She checked on the safe house whenever she was in the area. It hadn’t been occupied in months.
He took a water bottle from his gym bag, unscrewed the lid and poured a splash over a red bandana. Like Caleb, he tied the bandana across the lower half of his face.
She couldn’t stop herself from being Miss Know-It-All. “The fire marshal says the weave of a cotton bandana isn’t fine enough to prevent ash particles from getting through.”
“Don’t care,” he said. “The wetness makes breathing easier. Here’s the turnoff.”
After a quick left, she drove on a one-lane road that ascended a rugged slope. The safe house clung to the side of a granite cliff and faced away from the road. If she hadn’t known where she was going, Sam would never have found this place amid the rocks and trees.
When she exited her vehicle, the smoke swirled around her ankles in a thick miasma. From the wraparound porch of the house, she and Ty had a clear view of the wildfire. The blaze danced across the upper edge of a hogback ridge. With the sun going down, the billowing clouds of smoke turned an angry red. It looked like the gates of hell. A chopper flew over the leaping flames and dropped a load of retardant on the forest.
She watched as Ty wandered around to the side of the house toward the long attached garage. “Looking for something?”
“I’m being thorough.”
She noticed his hand resting on his belt near his holster, ready to make a quick draw. What was making him so suspicious? “Is there something I should know about?”
He joined her on the porch. “Long as I’m here, I might as well look around inside.”
His fingers hovered over a keypad outside the front door. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Do you happen to...?”
“Remember the code to deactivate the alarm?” She grinned and rattled off six digits. The Swain County sheriff always had the code. When the alarm went off, it rang through to her office, and she had to come up here to turn it off.
Before she could follow Ty inside, her cell phone rang. It was the fire marshal—a call she needed to take. As she answered, she signaled to Ty to go ahead without her.
“Marshal Hobbs,” she said, “what can you tell me?”
“The fire is mostly contained.” His voice was raspy. Sore throats must be an occupational hazard. “You won’t need to evacuate the town, especially not if it rains tonight like it’s supposed to.”
“That’s the good news,” she said. “What’s the bad?”
“Well, Sheriff, I’ve got a favor to ask. The chopper pilot spotted three hikers on the road by Horny Toad Creek. I can’t spare the men to pick them up. Could you take care of it?”
“No problem,” she assured him. “I happen to be in that area right now. How do you know they’re hikers?”
“The pilot said they were wearing backpacks. You know the look.”
“I sure do. Keep me posted on the fire.”
When Ty came out of the safe house, she waved him over to her SUV and told him about the hikers who needed a pickup. “I can’t imagine any sensible reason they’d hike near a wildfire. These guys must be thrill-seekers or morons.”
“Or reporters,” Ty said.
“Same thing.”
She’d had her fill of reporters after Wade’s death. They wouldn’t leave her alone, constantly pestered her for interviews or photos of her and Jenny. All she ever wanted was to grieve in private. But Wade’s accident was news.
One year and twenty-one days ago, he’d gone bow hunting with Ty and two other feds, including Ty’s boss, Everett Hurtado. A kayaker on the river had lost control in the rapids, and Wade had jumped into the frigid waters to rescue him. The kayaker had survived. Wade had been swept away by the white water. His body had never been found.
As Sam started the engine in her SUV, dark thoughts gnawed at the edge of her mind. She had plenty of things to worry about: the fire, the hikers, the lack of ventilation masks and Ty’s “important” news. But she could never escape the pain and the sorrow that had taken up permanent residence inside her. She’d never forget the loss of her husband. He was her soul mate, her dearest lover and best friend.
As she drove along the road that followed the twists and turns of the creek, she turned her head toward Ty. Might as well get this over with. “What’s this important thing you want to tell me?”
“You know, Sam, I can hardly look at you without thinking of Wade.”
“Back at you, Ty. You were one of his best friends. You grew up together.” She guided the SUV into a more open area that deviated from the path of the creek. “Is this important message about Wade?”
“How do you feel about him? Are you, maybe, looking at other men?”
“Hell no.” There was no other man, and there never would be. She only had room in her heart for Jenny and for Wade.
The road straightened out. The right side was a field behind a barbed-wire fence. To the left, a gently rising hillside climbed into a thick, old growth forest. If the fire got this far, these hills would go up like dry tinder.
Ty cleared his throat. “I was just thinking...”
“If you’re going to say that it’s time to move on, that I should get out there in the world and start dating, forget it. Don’t you dare tell me how to grieve.”
He pointed across the windshield to the left side of the road. “Over there.”
In the shadow of a tall cottonwood, she spotted a dark green sedan that apparently had gone across the shoulder and run into the shrubs, rocks and trees at the side of the road. She parked behind it. “Maybe our three hikers came from that car.”
“Makes sense,” Ty said. “Maybe they had an accident and are trying to walk back to civilization. But why didn’t we see them on the road? Why would they go toward the fire?”
She left the SUV and went to investigate. The green sedan blended into the trees and shrubs, which was why the helicopter pilot hadn’t noticed it. She saw the outline of a man’s head and shoulders behind the steering wheel.
He wasn’t moving.
Chapter Two (#ulink_daae0988-6d41-58cf-badc-2a357f1504d1)
A rising sense of dread crept up her spine and raised the fine hairs on the nape of her neck. Unlike the distant threat of the raging wildfire, this trouble was only a few steps away. Sam adjusted the holster on her belt for easier access to the Glock 23 she’d used to win marksmanship contests at the academy. Never once had she fired her pistol on the job: her stun gun was usually enough. But her cop instincts told her that this situation might require more firepower.
“Sir,” she called out as she moved closer to the vehicle, “I’m with the sheriff’s department. Show me your hands. Sir?”
Ty came up beside her. He held his Beretta at the ready. “I suggest we proceed with caution.”
“Ya think?”
He immediately backed off. “I’m following your lead, Sam.”
Even if Swain County wasn’t a hotbed of criminal activity, she knew the standard procedures and would adhere to them as much as possible. She pulled her pistol from the holster and went to the driver’s side. The window was down. Fully expecting to find the driver sleeping or drunk, she angled around until she could see inside.
“Sir, are you...?” The words froze in her mouth.
He’d been shot in the chest. The front of his plaid flannel shirt was drenched in blood from his neck to his gut. Oh God, what do I do next? What’s the procedure? She should check for a pulse, assess his condition. But she didn’t need to touch his pale jowls to know the flesh would be cold. His sightless eyes stared directly at her.
“He’s dead,” Ty said.
“Yes.” She could barely speak. Her throat was dry.
“We need to be careful. The killer might still be nearby.”
Gathering her courage, she backed away from the sedan and scanned the area, peering through the smoke at the rocks, shrubs and trees. No one else was in sight, but these hills were full of hiding places. A murderer wouldn’t put up a billboard to announce his presence.
But would he run away? Was he waiting for them? Harsh little flashes of tension and fear made it impossible for her to concentrate. Oh, Wade, I miss you. He would have known what to do. He was a born leader; giving orders came easily to him. Somehow, she had to pull herself together.
She cleared her throat. “We have to find the hikers.”
“Do you think they did this?”
“I don’t know.”
But she didn’t think those three men with backpacks were in this area by coincidence. Either they were friends of the deceased who were on the run or they were killers.
Ty gently touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“This is my first murder case.”
“I’m here to help.”
She’d seen dead bodies before, usually people who passed away from old age or due to an accident. And she’d arrested plenty of bad guys who had hurt someone else. The local violence had always stopped far short of murder.
“I can do this,” she said.
“Hell yes.”
She slapped her Glock back into the holster. “I want this investigation to be done right.” She took out a pair of baby blue latex gloves and slipped them on.
“Do you always have gloves in your pocket?”
“Not my pocket. My utility belt.” She passed a pair to him. “I keep them in here.”
“Isn’t that the place where you should be packing a second magazine for your Glock?”
“Here’s the thing, Ty. I’ve never fired all thirteen rounds from this gun. I’ll carry one mag of extra bullets, but the second one is overkill. But I’ve found the gloves come in handy. I am a mom, after all.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Last time I used my latex gloves was at Jenny’s kindergarten class when we were making a collage of forest animals.”
He nodded slowly. “What’s our next move?”
That was a good question. Swain County didn’t have the facilities to deal with a murder. They had a small clinic and a dentist who doubled as county coroner but no hospital for an autopsy. For forensics, she used a fingerprint kit that she usually carried in her SUV. She had no access to DNA data analysis or a mass spectrometer or any other fancy tools.
In usual circumstances, she’d step aside and happily turn this investigation over to the Colorado Bureau of Investigation or maybe the Grand Junction police. But today was different. Today, there was a wildfire that just might reach this car and obliterate the scene of the crime.
She took her cell phone from her pocket. “First, I’m going to take photos of the crime scene and dust for prints. Then you and me are going to load this body into the back of my SUV and cart him to the nearest hospital.”
“Why move him?”
Pointing toward the flames, she said, “So the body won’t be incinerated along with the rest of the evidence.”
With her phone camera, she took a picture of the windshield and the front end of the car, which was crumpled against the trunk of the cottonwood. The damage wasn’t severe, causing her to think the car hadn’t been going very fast at the time of impact. Pleased with herself for drawing that conclusion, she made a complete circle around the sedan, taking pictures of the whole car. No skid marks in the gravel behind the car. The driver hadn’t applied the brakes.
A theory began to form in her mind. The man behind the steering wheel was already dead when the car hit the tree. Her conclusion fit the evidence. Wade would have been proud of her. He’d always said that she was a natural-born cop, not surprising since her father was a captain in the Portland PD.
She returned to the front window and made observations, sticking her head inside. The dead man was covered in blood, but the rest of the front seat was fairly clean. She looked over her shoulder at Ty. “I don’t think this sedan is our primary crime scene.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think he was killed somewhere else and then put in the front seat, which is why there’s no spatter. And he didn’t crash this car. It was pushed off the road into the tree.”
“How do you know that?”
After outlining her prior conclusions, she stepped away from the window so he could see the final bit of evidence for himself. “No keys in the ignition.”
He peered inside, taking care not to get blood on his white shirt with the pearly snaps, and then he cursed. “I recognize this guy.”
Had she heard him right? “You know him?”
“He’s a cop.” Ty pulled his head out of the car and stood up straight. “A state patrolman. I think his name is Morrissey. Wade introduced us.”
Her husband had been well acquainted with all the law-enforcement guys who worked in and around Swain County. Like her own deputies, they hadn’t been as friendly with Sam. “We’d better do everything right. The staties can be as annoying as you FBI guys. Lieutenant Natchez is a real pill.”
“Agreed. I’ve met Natchez.” Ty whipped out his cell phone. “Do you want me to contact him?”
“I guess that’s the right thing to do.”
If the situation had been reversed, and someone had found Deputy Caleb Schmidt’s body, she’d want to be among the first who were informed. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Natchez. Somehow, he’d get everything turned around and make this murder her fault.
While Ty placed the call, she continued photographing the inside of the vehicle, starting with the front driver’s side and working her way around. No blood at all in the backseat. When she opened the passenger-side door, she saw a handgun. An attractive piece, it was a Colt revolver with an inlaid copper-colored design on the grip.
The weapon belonged to her husband.
* * *
WADE CALLOWAY EXERTED every bit of his willpower to keep himself from charging down the hill, grabbing his wife and planting a big, hard kiss on her soft, pink lips. The urge almost overwhelmed him. He couldn’t stand to watch her anymore. Ducking down behind a tall boulder at the edge of the forest, he squeezed his eyelids shut, fighting his desperate need to be with Samantha, his angel.
Now wasn’t the time or the place.
