Firestorm

She froze. His heart pounded against her spine. Even with her nose pressed into the pine needles, she smelled his male scent of sweat and musk.

“You’re not getting away this time,” he said.

She twisted frantically under him. Her nails raked his arms. He grabbed her hands and hauled them over her head, knocking off her cap. Hair spilled over her face.

The massive body stiffened. “Hey, you’re a woman.”

“No kidding.”

“You armed?”

“You’d know it if I were.” He shifted his weight, and she gasped. “Get off me. I can’t breathe.”

He rolled to the side with his fingers clamped on her wrist and pulled her onto her knees. She brushed the hair out of her eyes and glared at her captor. Clad in black jogging shorts and tank top, his damp skin gleamed in the moonlight. Dark eyes scrutinized her from a strong-featured face masked with flour.

“Jack, guard.” He released her arm as the dog sat, his glowing, canine gaze focused on her. “Don’t try anything dumb. The sheriff’s on his way. Just be thankful I’m the one who found you and not someone with a shotgun. People are getting mighty fed up with stealing around here.”

She sucked in the thin air, trying to catch her breath. “Wh-what are you talking about? Who are you?”

He glanced at the cabin and shook his head. “Returning to a crime scene is really stupid, you know?”

Stupid? Her mind seized on a few choice words to call him, but the sound of crunching gravel from the driveway heralded the sheriff’s car. Kitty stifled a groan. She and Stan Johnson shared a tumultuous history, and their relationship wasn’t going to improve when he found out why she’d come back. She watched with growing apprehension as he squeezed his rotund frame out of the car door.

“Arrest this man, Sheriff. He attacked me,” she called out. Sheriff Johnson strode toward them in heavy boots, his fingers tapping his gun holster.

“Trouble here, Tanner?”

Kitty’s mouth dropped open. Luke Tanner? Of all the lousy coincidences. No wonder he hadn’t identified himself.

“I found her ransacking the kitchen again.” Tanner stretched his long body upward.

“Again? He’s crazy.” Kitty scrambled to her feet, ignoring the dog’s warning growl. “I just got here tonight and was only looking for a fuse.”

The sheriff’s cool gaze flickered over her and Tanner. “What’s that white stuff all over you?”

“Flour,” Kitty replied with a lift of her chin, glad more of the fine powder covered Tanner than herself.

Johnson’s thin gray mustache twitched. “Breaking and entering is a serious charge, Miss McGuire. You should know that.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the implied reference to her past sins. “Give me a break. Since when is it a crime to break into your own place?”

The sheriff’s jaw tightened as he rubbed his evening shadow. “Yeah, well, things have changed around here. This property reverted to the town.”

“What?” Kitty’s voice rose an octave.

Johnson shrugged. “Something to do with funds your father borrowed on behalf of the fire department. Didn’t Pete let you know?”

“No, Pete didn’t let me know!” She hadn’t seen or heard from Pete Roth, her father’s lawyer, since the funeral when he’d informed her Sam had left everything to her. “Okay, maybe Pete tried to contact me, and I never got the message. I’ve been really busy. This whole situation is absurd. I’ll call him right now.”

“Can’t. Pete left with the missus on a Caribbean cruise. Won’t be back for a month.”

“How convenient for the town council,” Kitty said, hands on her hips. “No one around here to argue. They just take what they want. Well, they won’t get away with this.”

The sheriff stared at her without blinking and then slid his attention to Tanner. “I’ll run her down to the station. You want to come in and press charges or wait till morning?”

Charges? Her stomach constricted as she glanced at the shiny handcuffs dangling from the sheriff’s belt.

Tanner shook his head. “Wait a second, let me get this straight. This is Sam McGuire’s daughter, Katherine? The firefighter who lives in Los Angeles?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t know.” Kitty pointed her finger at Tanner. “And nobody except my mother ever called me Katherine. It’s Kitty. Got it?”

A muscle in Tanner’s cheek tightened as she continued, “I don’t know what scam the town council is trying to pull, but the cabin is mine. I have a key. Something’s wrong with the lock, which is why I broke the back window. The lights wouldn’t come on, so I searched the drawers for a fuse.”

Both men stood, silent. Kitty gritted her teeth to keep from saying more that might get her into further trouble.

“Miss McGuire,” Tanner said. “I can assure you, I didn’t know your identity. The cabin’s been vacant since the funeral. I understand before that, you hadn’t visited for years, which brings up the question—why are you here?”

Johnson’s eyes widened. “Yeah, why now?”

“You know why….” From their blank expressions, they didn’t have a clue. How strange. She looked from one man to the other. What was going on here? “Someone called me last night and said you two had turned up evidence that my father set the Wildcat Ravine Fire, which is totally ridicul—”

“Whoa.” Tanner held up his hand. “Who called you?”

She scowled at his rudeness. “He didn’t say—and before you ask, no, I didn’t recognize the voice.”

The sheriff glanced at Tanner and nodded toward the car. “Wait here,” Johnson said to Kitty as they traipsed away. She wanted to scream. They treated her as if she was a pesky mosquito buzzing around their heads, something to shoo away or, if she got too close, squash. Were they nuts? They’d accused her father of murder. Of course she’d be here. Of course she’d be involved.

She took an experimental step toward the house. The dog, which she could now identify as a black-and-tan German shepherd, rose, the rumble back in his chest.

“Okay, okay, settle down.” Kitty leaned against a tree, frustration vibrating through her. What a waste of time. She only had six vacation days left from the Los Angeles Fire Department and couldn’t afford unpaid leave after inheriting some of Dad’s bills.

The two men conferred for what seemed a year, and then the car’s engine roared to life. Her mouth dropped open as the sheriff drove away. Who would’ve guessed? She wasn’t going to jail after all.

Tanner reappeared from the shadows. “I apologize for the misunderstanding, Miss McGuire.” He snapped his fingers. The growling ceased, and the dog sprang to Luke’s side.

“A misunderstanding?” Kitty sputtered, following them around the corner of the house. “That’s the understatement of the year. Tell me something, Tanner, where in your job description does it say a fire chief is supposed to be out patrolling for burglars, or in this case, jumping defenseless females?”

Tanner paused at the fuse box, then the kitchen flooded with light. “I’m a neighbor. I was out for a run, minding my own business, until you decided to wake the whole forest by smashing a window. File a complaint against me if you wish, but the fact is, you still broke into town property.” His gaze sifted over her, making her skin prickle. “And I wouldn’t call you defenseless either. You managed to get your claws into me, but I guess I can’t blame you for defending yourself.”

He flipped on the porch light and brushed back his black hair, sending up a puff of white before he entered the cabin. “Be careful,” he warned. Glass popped under his shoes. “Jack, stay.”

She stepped cautiously around the dog that had halted in the doorway. The narrow, outdated kitchen looked even worse in the dingy light. Flour coated the countertops and floor like a fine snow. “What’d you mean when you talked about me returning to the scene of the crime? What happened?”

Tanner brushed his hand along the counter, and flour cascaded to the floor like a waterfall. “Someone broke in here yesterday. Third burglary in town this week. Jimmied the back door open, but at least there wasn’t any major damage. Just a few drawers tossed around. I live up the hill, so the town council hired me to oversee this place. I put in deadbolts this afternoon. You may want to check to see if anything’s missing.”

Kitty nodded as the hairs on her arms stood up at the thought of a stranger pawing through her father’s things.

“I filed a report. You would’ve been contacted soon.” Tanner’s military-straight posture exuded self-confidence, even streaked with flour. Kitty’s insides relaxed some. Maybe he wasn’t as incompetent as she first thought. Maybe she could reason with him.