Chapter 6
Grandpa Rusty sat in the driver’s seat with both hands on the steering wheel. Lucy was on the bench seat next to him. The truck drove down the deserted streets of Red Grove. “That Aiden Colton is an impressive guy. Strong. Brave. Kind. Handsome, if I can say so.”
“You can say if you think a man is handsome,” she assured him.
The truck rolled to a stop at a traffic light. It switched from red to green and Rusty pulled forward. “What do you think about him?”
Honestly, Lucy thought that Aiden was one of the best people she’d ever met.
Which begged the question, what did he want with her?
She wasn’t one of those pretty or bubbly kind of women.
She liked the company of horses and cattle more than she liked people—aside from Grandpa Rusty.
Hell, she rarely left the ranch. All she did was work.
In fact, her palms had so many calluses that they were like a stone that had been smoothed by years in the river.
“He seems pretty terrific,” she said as the town of Red Grove disappeared in the rearview mirror.
“You should go on a date with him,” he said.
She snorted a laugh. “First, you want me to date Ted Barrett—the freaking mayor. And now, you want me to date some guy who’s closer to a superhero than an actual person.”
“First, don’t say freaking. It’s too close to a curse word. And second, what’s wrong with dating Ted or Aiden?”
“I’m not Ted’s type,” she said. “He’s too slick to want some ranch hand like me. Besides, he’s Aiden’s brother. Not a blood brother. But Ted grew up with Aiden’s family.”
Lucy leaned her head on the window. The night stretched out all around them. The darkness turned the window into a mirror. She watched her reflection. Honestly, she didn’t know what Aiden had seen in her.
“What about Aiden?” asked her grandfather, as if he’d been listening to her internal chatter. “Why don’t you go out on a date with him?”
There was no way she could tell Grandpa that Aiden had asked her out. If she did, then he would pester her until she agreed to go out. “Why are you pushing all these men on me?”
“I’m not going to be here forever, Lucy. I want to see you settled. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
His words hit her like a punch to the gut. It stole her breath and left her queasy. Lucy and Rusty had been a team for years. “Well, you aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Even more than seeing you settled,” said Grandpa Rusty, as if she hadn’t even spoken, “I don’t like that you’re letting your youth slip away. You should be doing more than spending time with an old man and a bunch of livestock.”
Her brother, Derek, was the one who craved excitement. He’d used alcohol to escape the monotony of ranch life. Someone had given him a pill—a party drug, they’d called it. From that first time, he was hooked. It wasn’t long before he’d overdosed.
Lucy never knew if the pill, laced with fentanyl, had been an accident. Or if Derek’s so-called friend had meant to turn him into an addict all along. Either way, the world outside of the ranch wasn’t to be trusted.
“The fire chief thinks that kids got into the barn and were smoking. That’s what started the fire,” she added, as if that possibility proved her point.
“I guess that’s a risk we ran in letting the carnival rent our land for the long weekend.”
“I guess,” she said, letting out a long breath.
“But the important thing is that you made it out, safe and sound.” He paused.
“And speaking of people who keep you safe, why don’t you ask Aiden Colton out to coffee?
It wouldn’t have to be a date,” said her grandfather.
The dashboard lit his face and the small smile on his lips.
He was scheming, she could tell. “Just tell him it’s to say thank you for all he did.
Then, if things go well, maybe you can set up another coffee date. ”
She groaned. “Grandpa, please. I’m not going to ask out Aiden Colton. Besides, I’m just not ready to date anyone. Not after what happened with Derek.”
“I miss your brother, too.” Grandpa Rusty’s words were just above a whisper. “But just because he’s gone, doesn’t mean that you need to stop living.”
“I know. It’s just that…” Lucy wasn’t even sure she knew.
Her phone started to ring. The trilling filled the truck. Pulling the cell from her pants pocket, she glanced at the screen. The caller ID read Bryant Bros. Carnival.
She swiped the call open. “Hello?”
“I’m looking for Lucy Harris,” said a woman. Her tone was official.
“Speaking.”
“Ms. Harris. My name is Evelyn Davenport. I’m the legal counsel for Bryant Bros. Carnivals. I heard there was an incident on your property this evening.”
“There was,” said Lucy. “A fire in the barn where the helium tanks had been stored.”
“That’s what I heard. I also heard that you were trapped inside but made it out safely.”
She had been trapped, and thanks to Aiden, she’d made it out alive. “Yes.”
“Well, we’re glad that you’re okay. But I’m sure you can agree that a large fire like that changes everything.”
As much as she’d hated having the fair on her property, she’d rented the land for a reason. Or rather, there were fifty thousand reasons she’d allowed the carnival to use her ranch. “What are you getting at?”
“Because of the fire, Bryant Bros. Carnivals will be terminating the contract. Of course, you get the standard fee of ten thousand dollars for hosting us for a single evening.”
Her heart started to pound, sending spikes of pain through her skull. “You can’t do that.”
“I can,” said the lawyer. “If you’d look at your contract. Page seven. Section twenty-three.”
“Look at the contract? I’m in the car, coming home from the hospital.” Lucy’s voice had risen until she was practically yelling.
“Well, if you can look at the section when you get home, you’ll see what I mean.”
“I’ll sue,” said Lucy.
Then again, she didn’t have the money to hire a lawyer. Besides, she remembered the contract. There was an act of God clause, which was mostly used if there were severe storms. Floods. Damaging winds or excessive hail. She figured a fire fell into the same category.
She also wondered what the company would do if they knew that the fire wasn’t caused by the Almighty, but a bunch of kids.
“You are welcome to hire your own counsel,” said Evelyn, nonplussed. “But if there’s possible litigation, we won’t be paying until after the end of the trial. That’s in the contract, too.”
“I’ll look at the papers and get back to you,” she said. “I’ll call in the morning.”
“Make that Tuesday morning. This is the long weekend, after all.”
Lucy stabbed the phone with her finger, ending the call.
“What was that all about?”
“The carnival is leaving. They’re giving us ten thousand bucks for one night.”
“That’ll help to make ends meet,” said Rusty.
She loved his optimism, but Lucy was ready to do more than simply get by. In fact, without the fifty thousand dollars she’d expected from the Bryant Bros. Carnivals, she wasn’t sure how the Five Steers Ranch would make it through the winter.
Aiden’s alarm beeped and pulled him from a deep and dreamless sleep. Even before he opened his eyes, his head ached. His body was sore. And the palm of his hand stung. He peeled his eyes open and picked up his phone, silencing the alarm.
Like a current in a stream, the tug to go back to sleep was strong. Aiden had never been a morning person. Today, that didn’t matter. He’d told Lucy that he would be at her house early.
As far as he was concerned, 5:00 a.m. was the definition of early.
Swinging his feet to the floor, he sat on the edge of the bed. A wave of dizziness swirled around him. He sat without moving and waited for it to pass. He stood slowly, holding on to a bedside table for balance.
The pain in his head lessened.
Maybe Ryan had gotten it wrong last night.
Maybe Aiden didn’t have a concussion at all.
Without turning on any lights, he walked across his bedroom and across the hall.
Once inside the bathroom, he flipped a switch.
Light flooded the tiny space, reflecting off the white tiles.
It felt as if an ice pick had been driven between his eyebrows.
“Dammit all,” he cursed, turning off the light.
Ryan wasn’t as wrong as he’d hoped.
Without the light, he splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth. There was a bottle of ibuprofen tucked into the medicine cabinet. He took two tablets and washed them down with a glass of tap water.
Aiden padded down the hallway and entered the kitchen.
His apartment, located in downtown Red Grove, was made up of four rooms. The bedroom.
The bathroom. The kitchen/dining room combo.
The living room. Sure, the space was small, but the best bars and restaurants were within walking distance, and he loved the excitement of living in the middle of everything.
He turned on the light above the stove and found everything he needed to start a pot of coffee.
While the coffee brewed, he went back to his bedroom and stripped out of his shorts and T-shirt.
He redressed in a long-sleeved Red Grove Fire Department T-shirt and pair of jeans.
He went back into the kitchen. The last few drops of coffee fell into the pot.
Aiden filled a travel mug and took a sip straight from the cup.
He screwed on the lid. Finally, he grabbed his phone from the charger and his keys from the kitchen table.
By 5:15 a.m. he was out the door.
His car, a sporty red sedan, was parked at the curb.
As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he pressed the starter and unlocked the door.
The lights flashed and the engine started.
A cloud of exhaust rose from the tailpipe into the cool morning.
Aiden pulled up on the handle and opened the door.
He slid into the driver’s seat and took a second sip of coffee before wedging the cup into the holder.
After closing the door, he fastened his seat belt and put the car into Drive.
His headlights cut through the darkness, and Aiden realized that his headache was gone. He didn’t know if it was the over-the-counter meds or the coffee or both. But he relaxed in his seat, happy to be pain free.
As he drove, the sky lightened, and the stars disappeared one by one. The eastern horizon had turned purple and pink at the edges. In the distance, mountains rose up like jagged teeth. A sign was attached to two tall poles. The words Five Steers Ranch had been burned into a slab of wood.
After turning on his blinker, he pulled onto the dirt lane. Woods lined the road on each side. A two-story blue house with a wide porch sat atop a rise.
He mentally mapped out the property. Entrance. Lane. Woods. House on a hill. Behind the house and to the left were the outbuildings, including the one that burned down. To the right of the house was the field used by the Bryant Bros. Carnivals.
He let his foot off the gas and rolled slowly past the house. All the windows were dark. Was Lucy still asleep? Or was she already up and at work?
The back pasture came into view. For the span of a heartbeat, he couldn’t make sense of what he saw. The tents and the rides and the games were gone. The grass had been flattened by last night’s crowds. It was the only evidence that the carnival had been there at all.
He followed a rocky and pitted lane. His car jostled with each bump in the road.
Ahead were four wooden buildings and a heap of blackened debris.
It was amazing that nothing else had caught fire and that nobody had been seriously hurt.
Aiden let his foot off the gas, and the car rolled to a stop.
He put the gearshift into Park and pushed a button, turning off the ignition.
He opened the door and stepped out of the car.
His evidence collection kit was stowed in a black messenger bag.
He pulled it from the back seat and slipped the strap over one shoulder.
Tendrils of fog clung to the ground and the scent of burnt wood hung in the crisp air. Aiden walked slowly toward the charred remains. The barn door lay near the structure. A slurry of ash and water clung to the boards.
Kneeling next to the door, he examined the wood.
The burn pattern and blistering were consistent with the fire.
Rising to his feet, he walked into what would have been the barn itself.
The floor was bare dirt, something he knew from last night.
It was harder for a fire to burn soil than wood.
What did that mean for the cause of the fire?
Turning in a slow circle, he took it all in.
The wall, near a back corner, had been burned all the way through. The boards that remained were white with ash.
Bingo.
That was where the fire had burned the hottest and the longest. He waded through the standing water, his footfalls squelching.
A board lay on the ground. Next to it was a piece of metal.
He unzipped the top of the messenger bag and looked inside.
There were tweezers, a camera, pen and paper, collection bags, numbered paper tents.
At the bottom of it all was a pair of latex gloves.
Aiden pulled on the gloves and knelt next to the ring.
It was the size of a nickel with a hole in the middle.
He picked it up and placed it in his palm. Without question, he’d found a grommet.
There were four more scattered nearby. Had an old tarp been stored in this corner? Well, maybe the chief had been right. Maybe someone had taken a smoke break in the barn. It didn’t even have to be kids. A smoldering butt could have started the blaze.
He took a step back. There, on the ground, was a blackened scorch mark. Aiden removed two evidence bags from his kit. He dropped the grommet in one bag. Using a small trowel, also stored in his bag, he scooped up the soil. He brought the dirt to his nose and sniffed.
The stench of chemicals was unmistakable.
It could be the foam used by the firefighters.
Or it could be an accelerant. The state’s crime lab was located in Bismarck.
Aiden needed to get both the soil and the metal ring there to be tested.
He scribbled on the front of both bags, making note of what he had found and where it was located.
He also logged the date, September 3, along with the time, 5:49 a.m.
He tucked both bags into the front pocket of his kit. Years earlier, he’d been trained how to search the site of a suspicious fire. Create a grid and examine each sector. But today was different. Aiden had a hunch.
Walking carefully through the debris, he found where the door to the back room would have been. Sure enough, parts of the door were still there. It had fallen inward, blown down when the helium tanks exploded. He picked up one corner. The wood crumbled and Aiden froze.
There, attached to the rusty latch, was a shiny, new padlock.
Without question, this was a case of arson.
Worse yet, whoever started the fire also tried to kill Lucy Harris.