Welcome to Harmony (31 page)

ALEXANDRA WATCHED THE STATE TEAMS STORM HER OFFICE just before dawn. Cars and vans full of them. The county offices of Harmony were beginning to sound like a crowd at the state fair.

Highway patrol cars to handle traffic if smoke from the fires blocked the roads.

The state parks service officers, whose only worry was state lands already on fire.

A high-powered arson specialist from federal named Major Cummings, who worked out of Austin. She’d flown into Amarillo, rented a car, and driven to Harmony just to make sure she’d be in place before dawn.

Alex couldn’t even count the endless reporters asking questions and wanting to be allowed at the site to take pictures.

The main office was packed with people, and Alex knew these were nothing compared to the numbers at the site near the canyon. She tried to make room for all of them and offer office space and chairs for all federal and state people. The place was a working beehive. Irene had come in early to pass out cups of coffee and pencils provided by the chamber of commerce.

Andy, who’d spent the predawn hours watching for fire, was back in his chair at the phones. He jumped up from the dispatch desk and rushed toward her. Some men look good with a few days of stubble on their face. Andy Daily wasn’t one of them. He also looked like he could use one of those washers he owned. Maybe he could find a big one and just climb in, washing clothes and body at the same time.

She backed into a corner, away from the others as Andy Daily reached her. She hoped for a little privacy, fearing what he was about to say. “You need to get some sleep,” she said, knowing she’d need to pull all the part-time people in if she could get him to surrender his headset.

He leaned in, ignoring her comment. He was too excited to whisper. “Fire’s climbed the walls in three places. It’s into tall grass on the north side and short in two places on the south wall. We’ve got a full crisis on our hands. It’s going to take a lot more than our fire department to handle this one.”

Alex raised her eyes to the crowd, who all seemed to breathe in at the same time. For a second the room was silent. She saw a world of different emotions in their eyes. Some frightened. Some nervous. Some excited. For the firemen, it would be a fight. For the reporters, it would be a great story.

One woman—middle-aged, slightly overweight, with intelligent hazel eyes—caught her gaze. Alex saw wisdom in those eyes and, more important, experience that had taught her not to overreact in times like these.

Alex nodded slightly, and the woman walked toward her. She’d been told that Major Cummings, the military’s top arson expert in the area, was good, but this lady hadn’t made a grand entrance, she’d simply walked in and gone to work on one of the break room tables. If Alex had to trust someone, this one woman would be it.

“Can we talk in my office, Major?” Alex motioned toward her door.

The woman picked up her briefcase. She was letting Alex take the lead, not trying to run over her authority simply because she was older. Just by the way she followed a few steps behind told Alex that she was there to help.

Alex forgot she’d locked Tyler in hours ago. She’d unlocked the door and stepped in before she remembered.

The major walked past her as Alex looked everywhere for the undertaker. He seemed to have vanished. Trooper Davis couldn’t have taken him to lockup. First, he didn’t have a key to her office, and second, Davis was at the site. Tyler Wright didn’t seem the type who could pick a lock, but then, he was gone.

“I’m here to help,” Major Cummings announced. “I’ll never leak information and I’ll never sugarcoat the truth. In return, all I ask is honesty and the opportunity to help when I can.”

Alex accepted the woman’s hand. She had bigger things to worry about than how Tyler got out of her office, plus she had a feeling that if he’d escaped, he’d probably gone home. “Thank you.” Alex met the woman’s honest stare. “I’ll do the same, Major Cummings.”

The major smiled. “Then let’s go to work.”

Alex quickly spread out Hank’s marked map and showed her the area.

The major needed only a quick look to see the problem.

As Alex closed the open window, Major Cummings stuffed the map in her case and marched toward the door, “Call me Katherine, Sheriff, and I think it’s time we head toward this fire.”

“I’m Alex.”

There was no more time for introductions. They had a fire to fight.

HANK HADN’T SLEPT FOR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, BUT HE was pumped on coffee and adrenaline. The fire came over the edge of the canyon like a warrior charging into battle. Dry grass and wind were its allies as smoke breathed out a war cry.

He’d had word that other trucks from surrounding areas were coming in, but the fire came first. He hardly noticed the dawn as he fought through smoke and dust. His men, even those he feared would never stand in trouble, fought beside him. What they lacked in training, they made up for in spirit.

Hank yelled orders and the men moved in with every weapon they had.

And still, the fire spread. Twisting along the uneven edge of the canyon where they couldn’t get water. Jumping in the wind. Flames three and four feet high in the tall grass. The heat made it seem like the hottest day of the year, and the smoke seeped through the equipment.

Half the team circled to the north to fight on the opposite rim, leaving Hank with less than half the men he needed. Trooper Davis kept yelling into the radio that more fire trucks were coming, but the fire was crawling sideways across the battle line, growing, raging, every minute.

By the time Hank saw the first truck bouncing across the field, he already needed two more. To his horror, vans from the TV stations nearby bumped along behind the fire truck.

“I thought I said no press!” Hank yelled at Davis.

Davis shrugged, as if he had no control over free press.

“Well, at least make them stay out of the way and far back.” When this was over, Hank promised himself he would have a very long, very private talk with Davis. The trooper thought he knew everything, even ordering the firemen around. In truth, he couldn’t handle his own job. He was a man who talked a good story, but didn’t walk it.

Davis gave a mock salute as Hank cussed the man’s incompetence. The highway patrolman directed the camera crew over to Willie, the only one of the volunteers not black and sweaty.

Closing his eyes, Hank swore under his breath, putting the pieces together. He’d already guessed that the trooper and Willie were probably related, and now he knew that Davis had brought the press in to take Willie’s picture.

Hank had made the boy stay back for safety’s sake. He had the least training and judgment, but now it looked like he’d be the hero on the news tonight. Hank couldn’t help but wonder if Davis hadn’t planned it that way to highlight his kin. In the past few days he’d seen the two men talking several times.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the fire.

As the sun rose, Hank ordered his men to pull back a hundred yards and try again to make a stand. With shovels on shoulders, they all moved back. They were on land owned by a corporation. It had never been farmed and probably not grazed for years. There had also been no fire breaks cut . . . ever.

While they waited for the fire to crawl toward them, they all gulped down water and rested aching muscles. Hank took inventory. They’d been fighting the fire for three hours. Two men were hurt. Three looked like they couldn’t go much longer. The fire was burning hotter, moving faster than he’d ever seen grass fires move.

He glanced at Bob McNabb manning the radio and first-aid station. There was no need for him to yell the same questions he’d asked a dozen times. No need for Bob to report the fire still raging across the canyon. Bob just shook his head, and Hank nodded once in thanks.

As soon as he got reinforcements, he’d order his men to rest at least two hours. If he didn’t, Hank knew he’d be dealing with more injuries than a few burns. The EMTs from the hospital were about half a mile back, working as hard as the firemen.

Alex pulled up behind the fire truck and stepped out with a squatty woman at her side. They both marched right toward him.

Alex did a quick introduction of the major, then asked what they could do. He didn’t miss the fact that Alexandra’s gaze never left his face. She seemed to be reassuring herself that he was all right.

Hank described everything that had happened, but he noticed that Major Cummings was barely listening. She began walking the grass, bending now and then as if smelling invisible flowers.

“What’s with her?” Hank asked, too tired to be polite.

“Federal government,” Alex answered, as if that explained everything. “Where’s this heading?”

“Unless the wind changes, right toward my ranch. The good news is we’ve got a great deal of open range to fight it first. No houses or herds to have to deal with. The bad news is we have open range. No roads, no breaks.” He didn’t sound upset. His mind had already thought every option through. He’d have to wait until the cards were dealt before he could play the hand.

Alex stared out at the black cloud on the ground crawling toward them. She looked like she wanted to empty her Colt into the wall of black smoke.

“One thing you don’t have to worry about.” He fought the urge to touch her. “Looks like it’ll miss your place.”

“What about your mother, the aunts—”

He didn’t give her time to make the list of women at his ranch. “They’re all out, and I’ve got the house protected. If it gets all the way to me, I’ll probably lose the old barn my father built, but other than smoke damage, we’ll survive. I knew the women would panic if they saw the wall of smoke coming, so I told them to get out before dawn. They’ve been in town for over an hour.”

“Your stock?”

“I’ve got men moving cattle onto your land as we speak. Figured you wouldn’t mind.” He grinned.

“They’ll eat all my grass.”

“At least you got grass.” He would have bet that she’d complain. He also bet she wouldn’t care if his cattle ate every blade of her grass.

Alex reached out and almost touched him. “You all right?”

“I’m fine. My biggest worry right now is Jeremiah’s place, just beyond mine.” He didn’t say more. He couldn’t. Hank might lose grassland for a season and fence posts, but Jeremiah stood to lose everything. The old man didn’t have enough life left to rebuild.

“What can I do?” she asked, meaning every word.

“Keep Trooper Davis out of my hair. The guy gets on my nerves.”

“Done.”

The middle-aged major interrupted. “Gas,” she announced from about five feet away. “Someone’s seeded the grass here and there with gas. That’s why it’s flaring in spots. That’s why it’s moving so fast.”

“But how?”

“I understand this land is owned by a company in Dallas. I assume no one patrols it.” She didn’t give Alex or Hank time to comment. “An arsonist would have had no problem crossing this land on a jeep or ATV, or even a pickup. He could have spread gas for a mile if he had barrels of it in the back of a truck. But he couldn’t have crossed onto Matheson land,” she said as she looked at Hank. “You have a working ranch, I understand. A stranger would be noticed.” She made a face. “What I can’t figure out is how he could get out here with a load of gasoline. Looks like someone would have noticed.”

Hank had been so busy lately, he might not have noticed someone on
his
land, but the highway patrol had been watching the roads. “How’d you know all this?” he asked the major.

“I do my homework. You may have been up all night watching this fire, but I’ve been up learning all I could.” She winked at him boldly. “If it matters, Mr. Matheson, I figured out the circle about three this morning. I’m glad to see that you did also. It’s always good to know there is a logical man in charge.”

“What do you think the gas means?” He found himself admiring the major. She might be short and built like an apartment refrigerator, but she had the most interesting eyes and a razor-sharp mind.

“I think”—she raised one eyebrow as if pleased to be asked—“that he’s getting restless. He’s tired of waiting for his big fire. If this one doesn’t burn bright enough, I think he’ll set another soon.”

Hank agreed. “So, what do you know for sure, Major?”

“First, we know this was set. That’s a matter for law enforcement. We let them do their job. Second, get your people back and let it burn. If one of your men is standing in a puddle of gasoline when the fire line reaches him, we could have a casualty. I’m thinking he wouldn’t have had time to make more than one run spreading the gas. The chances he’d get caught were too great.”

When Hank started to argue, she continued, “If we act fast and move back, we can form a break; the tanks can water it down before the fire line gets to it. Those folks in Dallas won’t be happy that we let their land burn, but it’s our best chance of stopping the fire.”

“How far back?”

She pointed past his fence line. “Three, maybe four hundred yards that way.”

Hank agreed. It was a hard course to take, but it might be their only chance.

Like an army of ants, they all began to move. Hank drove his truck, loaded down with men, to the fence. By the time the others reached his land, he’d pulled out enough fence poles to let them pass.