Wildfire (3 page)

Lynn grabbed another slice of bread. Her hand shook. She
needed to get the conversation back on track. “Where did the cigarette come
from?”

Roberts shrugged. “A vagrant might have camped out by the
fields and got careless with his smokes. We found some footprints in the dirt.”
He nodded toward Lynn. “Besides yours.”

She plunged her knife into the peanut butter and focused on
the work at hand.

“I have been seeing more homeless people around.” Jen’s
brows scrunched up. “But they usually hang around in San Angelo, in areas with
more traffic.”

“Well, that’s the more benign version.” Anderson set down
his half-eaten sandwich.

Lynn swallowed past the knot of cold fear in her throat as
she turned to stare at the fire investigator.

Anderson continued, “Someone might have set the fire on
purpose.”

The knot unraveled and plummeted to her stomach. Had her
friend made an enemy? She couldn’t imagine anyone
not
liking Jen, but
things happened. “So which do you think it is?”

Blue eyes locked onto her, studied her. “We are still
investigating.” Anderson brought the mug almost to his lips. “Did you see
anything when you ran outside?”

Lynn shook her head. “No, just the fire.” That might not be
the complete truth, but it wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t
seen
anything.

He took a sip of his drink.

Roberts cleared his throat. “Jen, I have to ask, have you
ticked anybody off? Or noticed somebody hanging around?”

“No and no.” Her voice trembled at the edge of tears. “If I
did, I didn’t do it intentionally and I don’t have a clue about who, why, where
and when.”

Lynn patted Jen’s shoulder and glared at Roberts, who turned
pink and focused on his cup.

The door swung open and weary firefighters trudged in one
after another. Soon the kitchen hummed with talk of weather and fire, shuffle
of feet, and the soft clatter of spoons and cups
.
Through
it all, the smell of dragon musk grew and thickened. Lynn’s nose itched with
every breath as if she’d left behind the cozy kitchen and strolled into a smoky
bar. What the hell? Was her nose going crazy too?

Anderson sprawled back in his chair, nodding at people. His
gaze traveled around the room. “So where’s Jack Callaghan then?”

Roberts’ eyes widened. He twisted around to scan the room.
“I-I didn’t realize he was missing.” He lurched to his feet. “Anyone seen Callaghan
this morning?”

Jen’s gaze flickered from face to face as heads shook in the
negative and murmured “No’s” poured out. Anderson and Roberts exchanged a tense
look.

A loud burst of beeps and the crackling of radio static
interrupted them. Lynn almost dropped her coffee mug. She set it down on the
table and opened her mouth to ask questions. But snapped it shut as Jen held up
a finger for silence.

An electric quiet gripped the kitchen. A spike in the
muskiness almost had her reeling. Lynn gritted her teeth and held onto her
sanity. Someone in here had to be the dragon. Her gaze ricocheted from face to
face. All eyes stayed glued to a little black radio on the far counter. People
leaned forward, listening.

“Paradise Valley and Water Valley Volunteer Fire Departments
responding,” a voice blared from the radio. “Structure fire at 3016 Wren Road.
Crosses Aspen Lane and Pine Road, county map coordinates L and 4, section 18. All
volunteers please respond.”

“I’m so damn sick of all these fires,” a man said, setting
his mug down next to the sink.

The hair on the nape of Lynn’s neck stood at attention. All
these fires? How many had there been? She watched as firefighters abandoned
their mugs and sprinted out the back door. Within minutes the kitchen had
emptied.

Jen rushed about gathering bottled water, cookies, towels,
some blankets, and a first-aid kit. She threw them all into a wheeled cooler.

“Where are you going?”

“There’s a fire at the Jarvis house and our volunteer fire
department is going to it,” she said. “So, I have to go. You can come along or
stay and take a nap.”

“You’re a firefighter?” Lynn hurried out the kitchen door
after her friend. Excitement skittered through her. Maybe she’d find something
concrete at the scene of this new fire.

“No, I’m the fire department’s treasurer.”

“Treasurers help fight fires?” Lynn arched an eyebrow. “In
their pajamas?”

Jen looked down at herself and laughed. “Ah…no and no. Could
you load up? And you might want to put on shoes.”
She
disappeared down the hallway.

Lynn finished loading the car and buckled herself in. She
drummed her fingers and counted backwards from a hundred. Both she and the
dragon chaffed at being forced to wait and to use a vehicle.

On sixty-six, the door opened and Jen slid into the driver’s
seat. “I essentially stay out of the firefighters’ way. Everyone turns up to
help however they can.” She took a deep breath and started the old station
wagon. “I’m usually on the sidelines if the firefighters need water to drink,
the victims need comforting or, God forbid, if somebody needs first aid.”

“Do you know the people whose house is on fire?”

“Like I said, this is small place.”

“Okay, I get it— small community. Everyone knows everybody,
everyone helps everyone.” Lynn leaned her head back against the seat. “Just
don’t start singing Kumbaya.”

Jen cut her a glare.

“So, who’s Jack Callaghan?”

Her friend’s knuckles blanched on the steering wheel. “He’s
my landlord and my nearest neighbor.”

“How come he didn’t show up at your fire?” She angled her
head toward Jen. “That wasn’t very neighborly of him.”

“Being a neighbor here doesn’t mean right next door, he’s
about two miles away.” Jen’s face darkened, grew pinched. “But he’s part of the
volunteer fire department and he
should
have been here. I hope he’s
okay.”

God, Jen was such a softie. Where most people would run away
from an injured bull, she’d try to help it. And yes, where most people would
have panicked and fled from a dragon shifter, or attacked, she became BFF. “You
know him well?”

“Pretty well,” Jen said. “Jack’s one of the nicest guys I’ve
ever met. He is gentlemanly, straight forward, and big brotherly.”

“Hmm, full of praises aren’t we? Do I sense a spark of
interest here?”

The car almost swerved off the road.

“Let me repeat myself:
big brotherly
,’” Jen scowled.
“He’s a good friend though.”

Lynn righted herself in the seat and looked around. “Holy
Wasabi.”

The dry, brown West Texas countryside turned uglier with
swaths of charred pasture on both sides of the road. Blackened trees stood
silent witness. Soon the stink of smoke seeped into the car despite the closed
windows. Her blood tingled and a thought resurfaced. “How many fires have there
been?”

“The Jarvis fire will be the fourth one this month.” Jen’s
lips tightened into a thin line.

Too many. And these last two were too close. Lynn stiffened
as a twinge of intuition hardened inside her. She hadn’t seen anything, but
she’d definitely sensed something. Smelled him. While her other faculties might
be backfiring, she trusted her nose. Or had until now.

“Do you think….” She paused and rubbed her chin. “Do you
think it’s something like me?”

“A dragon? But that’s not possible.”

“You know better.” Jen knew all her secrets.

“But…but I haven’t seen any Japanese or half-Japanese around
here,” Jen said. “To be a descendant of the Dragon king’s daughter, don’t you
have to be somewhat Japanese at least?”

As young girls, they loved hearing
Obaa-chan
tell the
story of Kiyohime, a daughter of Riyojin, the dragon lord of the sea. She fell
in love with a human and approached him as a beautiful teahouse waitress. After
a brief affair, he spurned her. In her grief she turned into a dragon and
killed him.

Lynn sighed as a dull ache pulsed at her temples. The story
of a grief-stricken dragon losing control seemed too close to her reality.
“Jen, dragon myths exist in all cultures. I don’t
think all shape-shifters have to be twenty-five-year-old Japanese-American
females with a black belt in karate and a taste for sushi. There could be a
gun-slinging Texas cowboy version.”

“But I thought you are all supposed to be guardians of the
world?”

Nerves slipped and slid around inside her. “Yes, at least
those of Japanese origin are supposed to be. As punishment, Riyojin forbade
Kiyohime to ever set foot on land and said that her descendants would all be
guardians.” Lynn kneaded her forehead. “However, there have always been rogue
dragons, those who misuse their power. That’s where most of those
dragon-slaying stories come from.”

“
Madre de Dios
,” Jen whispered.

“Of course, the fire-starter could be nothing more than an
ordinary human who got careless like the sheriff said,” Lynn put in. “Given my
history, dragons pop into my head way too easily.” But not this time. Not when
her senses were overloading with dragon musk.

“I left Houston so I could paint in peace and quiet. Now
this…” Jen ended on a sob. “Whatever or whoever this person is, I want him
stopped.”

The dragon slithered in Lynn’s belly. She reached over and
clasped Jen’s hand. Whether human or dragon, the arsonist was going down. She
wouldn’t lose another person she loved.

When they reached the fire, Jen maneuvered the car between
two fire trucks, parked and jumped out. Lynn shadowed her. Firefighters,
dressed in yellow, milled about pulling hoses and shouting orders. Flames leapt
out of windows, even as three steady streams of water doused the tiny
wood-frame house.

Black smoke choked the air. Her dragon swirled inside her.
She lifted her face to the sky and sniffed. The acrid tang of fire laced with a
musky scent. The first whiff sucker punched her. Robbed her of breath. Of
thought. Desire shot through her veins making her knees buckle. Male dragon
pheromones. Must be a powerful one given her reaction.

Lynn took a deep breath and allowed her gaze to roam as she
grasped Jen’s shoulder to steady herself. Jen turned, a frown creased her
brows. “Are you okay?”

Yeah, I’m almost orgasming here. Yay me. Her cheeks flamed.
She nodded and pulled herself together. “So, who’s who?”

Jen pointed out Tom and Brenda Jarvis before heading toward
them.

Lynn squinted at the burning house and then back. With her
hair pulled into a pony-tail and her face devoid of any makeup, Brenda looked
young and fragile. Much too young to lose a home like this. A tow-headed boy
stood by their legs.

The despair reflected in their faces seemed to shout
accusingly at her. Your kind did this. A dragon did this.

Lynn swiped at the corner of her eyes. She had to get this
bastard. The beast inside her rumbled its discontent and paced in agitation.

Tom glanced at them and then watched the fire again with
clenched jaws. “We had all of Timmy’s birthday presents hidden in the house.
Now there’ll be nothing.” A tear rolled down his soot-smudged face.

“You’re alive, Brenda’s alive and little Timmy’s alive,”
said Anderson, who stood next to the man. “That’s a lot to be thankful for.
Other things be damned.” He chewed his unlit cigar with added ferocity.

Timmy grasped his father’s hand. “It’s okay, Daddy.” At
this, Brenda sobbed harder. Lynn stared at the family, her throat dry. Would
she ever have a child? A family? She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Misery must
really love company because no other reason for her to contemplate passing on
her freaky genes and messing up a few other lives.

Jen pulled Brenda into a hug and walked her to the station
wagon. She sat the girl in the passenger’s seat and cleaned her sooty face. All
the while, Jen talked to her in a low soothing voice, telling her everything
would be okay. Lynn smiled, proud of her friend.

The smile disappeared as her dragon stirred and sniffed. Its
muscles clenched and unclenched. The skin at her fingertips stung as claws
ached to unsheathe.

Shakespeare’s words popped into her head. By the pricking of
my thumbs, something wicked this way comes…

Lynn drew in a deep breath. The dragon shifted into a ready
crouch. She turned.

Timmy had followed his mother and now stood behind her.
Firefighters worked around and behind him.

She stared at the wide-eyed, sad-faced boy. Was he the rogue?

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe because of the fist in
her gut. The tightness hovered at the threshold of pain. She blinked and
marshaled her thoughts. A child couldn’t be setting all these fires. And the
dragon she’d sensed earlier had felt older, more male.

Little by little, the tightness eased its clutch. Lynn
smiled and opened the driver’s side door for him. The boy climbed in and sat
stiff and silent as she inspected him for cuts and bruises. Taking Jen’s cue,
she wiped Timmy’s face and arms clean with a wet towel and offered him water
and cookies. He grabbed both. Poor kid.

“You must be Timmy.”

He nodded. “Timothy Jarvis. But everyone calls me Timmy.”

Lynn introduced herself. “How old are you?”

“Seven, but I’ll be eight next week.”

“Wow, that’s just five days away, you’re a big boy.

Timmy nodded sagely as he twisted and turned the steering
wheel.

“Do you have any pets?”

Timmy went still. “Lucky,” he whispered. He tried to push
past Lynn. “I have to go.”

She cursed her big mouth. “Tell you what, I’ll go with you.”
Lynn grabbed one of his hands. He dragged her toward his father.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

At the ear-splitting call, Tom Jarvis turned and squatted
with open arms. Timmy tugged free of Lynn. But instead of running to his
father, he took off for the burning house yelling, “Lucky! Lucky!”