Firestorm

Her reaction toward Tanner disturbed her. Unfortunately, he hadn’t fit the profile of the inept dolt she’d imagined on the long drive up here. This man wouldn’t be easily swayed. His eyes held an unusual intensity and worldly intelligence that intrigued her but also warned her to be cautious. She couldn’t let a physical reaction cloud her judgment. She’d use him just like he’d use her to get the job done. Past experience had taught her well. Rule your life with your brain, not your heart. It was safer that way.

It was a mistake, Luke Tanner told himself for the tenth time as he charged up the steep, rocky hill. No doubt about it, he was slipping. How else could he have let the McGuire woman and her sick grandmother get under his skin so easily?

Three months retired from the Bureau and he’d already lost his objectivity. His research revealed Sam McGuire’s mother still lived in a nursing home, but Kitty, despite her innocent-looking blue eyes, could be lying through her pretty, pink lips. Her eighty-four-year-old grandmother might be senile and not even know McGuire had died. He’d been fooled before, and the process nearly cost him everything he loved.

He sprinted for the steps to his porch and leaned over, his hands on his knees. Living at seven thousand feet above sea level had some disadvantages—like less oxygen. If he hadn’t spent so much time in the Sacramento office the last couple months wrapping up loose ends, maybe he’d be acclimated by now. Jack panted beside him. Luke rubbed the dog’s soft ears. “Come on, let’s check on Michael.”

The dog raced ahead as Luke deactivated the alarm and climbed the stairs to the attic bedroom. The glow from the night-light illuminated the peaceful expression on Michael’s face, so unlike the surly one dominating it most days. Jack sniffed the boy from head to foot, and then lay on the rug, apparently satisfied no harm had come to his young charge.

Luke untangled the quilt from around the lanky ten-year-old body, gently tucking the ends under. “Thank you, God,” he whispered, awe in his voice. Even now, six months after the kidnapping, he found it difficult to believe he had Michael back safe and sound. Well, maybe not sound yet, but in time.

Luke smoothed a wisp of copper-colored hair off the boy’s forehead and then stepped toward the intercom that connected to downstairs and his father’s bedroom. “Dad? I’m back. Any problems?”

“Heard you come in.” His father’s gruff voice erupted from the small, black box on the wall. “Not a peep out of the kid.”

“Thanks for staying up. I didn’t mean to be gone so long.” He flexed his stiffening shoulders. What a night.

“No problem. With this contraption, I can hear a mouse tiptoe across a pile of pillows. It’s been a quiet evening, just what I needed to finish up this book on the John Muir Trail.”

“You thinking of taking a hike?”

James Tanner chuckled. “No, just wishful thinking. You know my old knees wouldn’t last five miles. You, though, work too hard and ought to take a vacation. Take my grandson camping like we used to do. Spend more time with him. A group from the church goes once a month in the summer.”

“I know. I’ll check it out soon.” Luke’s neck muscles knotted tighter. Finding the time for getting active in the church was another reason to get this case wrapped up fast.

“I’d lend you the book, but I need to return it to the library tomorrow.”

Luke smiled. He had a sneaking suspicion his father liked Miss Grant, the town’s kind, silver-haired librarian. When he wasn’t fulfilling his pastor duties at the community church or spending time with Michael, Dad hung around the library. Luke had mixed feelings about this possible romantic development. Logically, he wished his father happiness, but the thought of anyone taking his mother’s place twisted his gut.

First Mom, then Miranda. Too much heartache in the last three years. He didn’t know how he could’ve gone on if he’d lost Michael too.

“Night, Dad.” Luke switched off the intercom. He gestured to the German Shepherd.

“Come.”

The dog followed him down to the kitchen where Luke scooped out dry dog food. Jack stared at the bowl until Luke remembered to give the command to eat, a safety precaution to prevent poisoning. His father had thought Luke overly cautious by purchasing the specially trained dog for Michael’s protection, but having Jack gave Luke more peace of mind. And Lord, you know I need more peace.

Still too keyed up for bed, he trudged onto the long deck that hugged the length of the house. The crisp, mountain air soothed his hot skin. He leaned on the redwood railing and gazed down at the quiet town huddled next to the lakeshore. Pine Lake boasted clean air, good schools, small-town values and even an active church congregation.

After the horror of their last year in Chicago, the secluded valley seemed like the perfect place for Luke and Michael to start a new life. Luke hoped that with love and his grandfather’s spiritual guidance, Michael’s troubled spirit would heal, and the child could learn to trust again.

Jack trotted to the railing and whined. “I know, boy, you feel it too. Things aren’t right.” Luke moved to where he could see the McGuire cabin. Despite the tranquil setting, something sinister brewed in Pine Lake, and he couldn’t shake the feeling Kitty McGuire had bulldozed her way into the middle of the mess surrounding her father. How deeply she was involved, he didn’t know. Someone wanted her to come back. But why?

“Jack, go inside,” Luke said, releasing the dog to his post. Except during school hours and an occasional night run, Jack stuck close to Michael.

Luke moved indoors and caught a whiff of the McGuire woman’s light flowery scent on his arms. Her courage and determined loyalty to her father stirred something inside him. A longing he thought he’d buried with his wife. A longing he didn’t dare indulge in. Not now. Maybe never again.

Luke sighed and locked up the house. As usual, his timing stank. Who would’ve guessed after he’d turned in his badge and moved to Pine Lake, he’d be fighting crime again? When Sheriff Johnson, the only person in Pine Lake other than family who knew Luke was ex-FBI, asked him to temporarily assume the fire chief position to assist in the arson investigation, he couldn’t refuse. If the town wasn’t safe, then neither was Michael. Protecting his son consumed his whole life now.

He headed to the shower. The steamy water washed the intriguing woman’s scent away, but an edgy feeling lingered as he toweled off and crawled between the cool sheets. Exhausted, he tried to sleep, but Kitty’s parting words, “You won’t regret it,” kept echoing through his mind.

Luke groaned, rolled over and punched the pillow flat.

Regret it?

He already did.

TWO

“Land sakes, it’s Kitty McGuire,” a voice boomed over the din of the Monday breakfast crowd at Sarah’s Café. “Come give me a hug, child!”

Kitty stood in the doorway and grinned at Sarah Moore maneuvering through the sea of tables. Despite living in an outdoor sports-oriented town in the rugged California Sierra Mountains, the proprietor of the lakeside restaurant consistently wore fashionable business suits and matching designer pumps.

“It’s great to see you.” Kitty hugged the petite, middle-aged woman and breathed in the familiar spicy scent of Sarah’s perfume mixed with citrus from the oranges she squeezed every morning. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Well, you wouldn’t know it on my end.” Sarah propelled Kitty toward the table by the front window overlooking Main Street and the lake. “Not an e-mail or phone call in months.” Her smile took the edge off the scolding.

“I’m sorry. I meant to call, but I’ve been so busy with work and classes. I finally made it into the arson investigation program.”

“Great news. Your pa would’ve been proud.”

If only that were true. She couldn’t remember the last time Sam McGuire noticed or approved of anything she’d done.

Snagging a coffee pot, Sarah said, “Anyway, never mind my fussing. I know you have your own life. This town isn’t exciting enough for most young people, unless you’re a wilderness enthusiast or ski bum. So, how long are you visiting?”

“A couple days. I have some details to wrap up concerning Dad’s affairs,” Kitty answered, not wanting to discuss her father in such close proximity to so many other ears. She hesitated by the wooden chair her father had claimed every morning during his nineteen years in Pine Lake. She could almost see him sitting there in his worn blue uniform, pager by his plate, drinking coffee while debating local issues with Sarah’s husband, Daniel.

“Are you all right, dear? You’re so pale.”

Kitty’s throat tightened. “It seems so strange not having him here.”

“How thoughtless of me,” Sarah said, her hand pressed over her heart. “Would you like to sit somewhere else?”

“No, no, this is good. I want to sit here.” Kitty eased in the chair. The sooner she learned to deal with the situation calmly and systematically as a professional investigator, the sooner she’d solve this case and leave this town. Permanently.

Sarah poured steaming, fragrant coffee into two mugs and joined Kitty at the table. The older woman sighed and smoothed back a frosted wisp of hair that had escaped her French braid. “Do you know how sorry I am that I wasn’t here for your father’s funeral?”

Kitty’s eyes stung. “Oh, Sarah, please don’t apologize. I got your message and card. You needed to be with your poor sister. Is she any better?”

“Not really, but she’s still able to enjoy the Florida sunshine. That’s something, anyway. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just tired. I got in after midnight,” Kitty said, almost adding, “and wrestled with the new fire chief,” but preferred to try to wipe the disturbing image from her mind.

“Poor dear, you must be exhausted, and you have to stay in that filthy cabin all alone. Daniel’s been keeping an eye on the cabin for you, but it must be dusty and full of spiders. Why don’t you come stay in my guest room?”

“Thanks, Sarah, but I’m fine in the cabin.”

“Then I’ll send Daniel over with a mop and dust rags. In fact, I’ll go with him to make sure the job’s done properly. It’s the least we can do for you under the circumstances. Clarence is perfectly capable of running things around here.” She nodded toward her part-time cook framed in the kitchen window. “I’ll call Daniel at the hardware store.”