Chapter Four
The gasoline had started rotting his brain.
There was no other explanation for why he’d drag Aslen into the middle of a homicide investigation. It certainly wasn’t because the moment he’d seen the laceration at the back of her skull that he’d succumbed to the incessant need to keep her close.
Murray didn’t give into distractions. Once he set his mind on a goal, that was all, plowing through projects, casework, even personal achievements.
He focused on what was important and refused to back down until he had it in sight.
Finding this arsonist. Stopping anyone else from getting hurt.
That was what mattered, but the second the words I want you had left his mouth, a certain rightness had settled in his chest. Aslen wasn’t trained in law enforcement.
While her expertise butted up against his during investigations like this, she wasn’t qualified to carry a weapon, direct interrogations or hunt a potential killer.
But the idea of leaving her here to work this scene, to be here if the arsonist returned to the scene of the crime, broke the dam he’d fought to build for the past twenty years.
She was the one for this job.
And once he made a decision, there was no backing down.
Aslen was his complete opposite. Where she analyzed every angle, pulled apart different scenarios and gathered as much information as possible, Murray bounded into action.
It’d frustrated him to no end the older they’d gotten.
Sometimes there was a right choice and a wrong choice.
Didn’t need to psychoanalyze it to within an inch of its life, but no matter how many times he’d tried driving that point, she stood her ground and took her time.
No diving headfirst into the unknown. Even if he didn’t go about things the same way, he admired her pigheadedness.
But, right now, he was only asking for trouble.
Going against everything he’d worked for to protect her from danger, sometimes even from herself, by ordering the collaboration of their two departments.
And he was pretty sure it was going to blow up in his face.
For years, he’d kept his distance. Emotionally.
Mentally. Mostly physically. Now, he was basically tying himself to her at the hip in the name of keeping her safe.
Nothing could go wrong.
Firefighters had allowed the scene to settle over the past few minutes.
The ground under his boots had turned mushy, mud filling the gaps in his soles.
The added weight didn’t faze him, but he noted Aslen’s struggle to navigate what was left of the woodlands with the unstable landscape.
He knew her past, understood how difficult it must be to face her fears on a daily basis after losing her parents to a household fire at only eight years old.
But she was strong—stronger than most if he was being honest with himself—but the admission did nothing to curtail the feeling of being watched.
Murray grappled with his ingrained nature to keep an eye on her and scan the trees for potential threats.
She and her friend—Danny, was it?—had joined the rest of her unit in scouring the brush for potential hot spots and signaling the hose jockeys for extra assistance.
What had once been a shed housing maintenance resources for rangers on patrol had been cordoned off with tape to protect the decimated remains inside at Murray’s insistence.
Onlookers from the nearby campground had been evacuated, but it looked as though a few found their way to the perimeter tape on the other side of the clearing where firefighters had set up their command center.
The hook lodged in his chest from the moment he’d set eyes on Aslen all those years ago dug deeper as he put distance between them to check in with the supervisor in charge.
“We had an agreement.” Murray didn’t bother with the small talk.
“Figured you’d have something to say about that.
” Deep lines sprawled across Chief Higgins’s forehead as he scrawled notes over the map spread out in front of him on the folding table.
Bleached, ear-length hair hung into his eyes and blocked Murray’s view of the man’s face.
Lean muscle flexed in Higgins’s hands as he braced his weight every now and then.
The chief couldn’t have been anywhere near retirement, yet signs of age added to the sallowness in his sharp cheekbones and around his chin.
His gear hung off him like an ill-fitting suit, worn in some places more than others.
“There’s only so much I can do before my guys start asking why I’m sidelining a female ranger.
Because I can tell you right now they’ll make her life a living hell if they think she’s getting preferential treatment.
Besides, this got close to getting out of control. I needed everyone I had.”
Murray couldn’t argue against any of that.
Okay. So maybe he’d overstepped in making his deal with the chief in the first place—his inclination to jump into action without looking could’ve blown back on Aslen in more ways than one—but he wouldn’t apologize for putting her safety first. Even if it made her hate him more than she already did.
Acid burned up his throat at the thought. “You got a photographer on site?”
Higgins nodded across the clearing to the male ranger staring down at the camera slung around his neck. “Just got here.”
“Have him take pictures of the crowd gathering behind you.” Arsonists had a tendency to return to the scenes of their crimes.
They liked to watch law enforcement scramble to control the blaze or relive the sexual effects the fire had on them during the initial start.
Arson was considered a gateway crime in his book.
Dangerous offenders started their criminal careers setting fires in an attempt to gain control and power, and attain a feeling of success in their lives.
It provided manipulation in its purest form through any victims caught in the fire, firefighters, law enforcement officials and other figures of authority, the media and the community in general.
Arson, for all intents and purposes, was a crime committed by cowards.
Hands off, simple, selfish. While Zion had become its own closed off community from the world, news of the fire—and the body recovered—would spread.
It was only a matter of time before the arsonist got the attention he wanted, bolstering his ego and doubling that craving for fame.
Arsonists primarily worked in groupings, usually three fires at a time, with an ultimate goal in mind.
If Murray could identify that goal and avoid the media feeding into the suspect’s ego, he might be able to stop this before the killer escalated.
“Then have him send me all photos of the scene when he’s finished. ”
Higgins set worn blue-gray eyes on him. “You think we’re dealing with a professional? That this might happen again?”
Murray looked at Higgins and shrugged. He didn’t have an answer for that, but his gut was telling him he had to be careful with this one.
Years of studying for his criminal justice degree in college then transferring from the Salt Lake City Police Department to what he would absolutely consider small-town rural USA to keep up with Aslen had manipulated him into thinking he’d see less homicides.
Clearly, he couldn’t have been more wrong.
The use of accelerant to destroy the body might’ve been a crime of convenience or it could’ve been a premeditated strategy.
Either way, he wasn’t leaving Aslen unprotected while an arsonist roamed the park.
Tendrils of smoke curled into the air and thinned out above him. The wind had kicked most of the smoke west toward the reservoir and would take a few more days to clear out of these canyons, but the stench of smoke and decay clung to his shirt.
He’d already lost his brother to an unknown hiking accident that remained an open missing persons case years ago, then his parents soon afterward when they’d given up hope on finding Jackson. He wasn’t going to lose her too. No matter how much she fought him.
Murray scanned the faces of the bystanders trying to get a better look at the scene from behind the perimeter tape.
A couple rangers had taken up the responsibility of acting as scene security, but he’d need to get his own rangers out here.
People trained to navigate and investigate and ask the right questions.
For now, he studied the onlookers’ faces.
Watched what they did with their hands. There was a sexual component to arson most authorities didn’t want to put too much stock in, but the spread of campers didn’t give him any indication the arsonist had returned to the scene. Yet.
“You’re scaring everyone with your resting bitch face.” Aslen barely cast him a glance as she maneuvered to his side.
Her voice soothed the jagged edges of doubt cutting through him.
Years of investigation hadn’t affected him nearly as much as finding the body in that shed an hour ago, and there was only one reason he could pin it on: The woman standing next to him.
He’d spent the better part of his life protecting her from the violence he saw every day, never once sharing stories about his day-to-day or recalling investigations with her around.
But he couldn’t shield her from this.
Today was the first day she’d witnessed the harsh reality of this life.
A line of soot carved a sharpness into her jaw, as though she’d swiped at her face without realizing.
All that dark hair he’d imagined wrapping around his hand while she gazed up at him from between his sheets escaped her ponytail, but Aslen had never been one for perfection.
More…functional, and he wanted nothing more than to smooth the frizzed pieces back behind her ear.
Exhaustion lined her eyes. It was deep—soul crushing.
Murray forced the tension out of his upper body, dropping his arms to his sides.
Always on alert, he’d never let himself be blindsided by a threat, but when she got this close—as close as he allowed her—all that diligence drained.
Leaving him boneless and relaxed. “How else am I supposed to exert my dominance?”
“What I wouldn’t give to watch someone knock that ego right out of you.” Her mouth curved at one corner. It wasn’t the gut-punch of a smile she’d slowly lost over the years, but it wrenched his insides into a knot all the same.
A smile he’d helped diminish. Murray didn’t let himself think too hard about that.
He could breathe easier with her here, no longer hyperaware of the odor coming from the shed.
Instead, sunshine and something floral replaced the bitter, and he breathed in a bit deeper.
The tightness in his chest eased until there was nothing but a straight line to her. “Care for a crack at it?”
She jabbed her knuckles into his gut. Faster than he expected.
The impact wouldn’t knock him off-balance, but it sure as hell surprised him.
Seemed Aslen was good at that. Somehow, over the course of the past few years, she’d left behind that scrawny little kid he’d stood up for in middle school.
Now, there was a full-fledged woman standing up for herself.
“Come on. The medical examiner just arrived. He’s going to want to get a better look at the body. ”
Murray followed on her heels, winding through the areas firefighters had deemed safe toward the maintenance shed.
How much longer would she tolerate his overprotective ass before she realized she didn’t need him anymore?
What would he do then? He didn’t want to know the answer to that, lowering his attention to the flex of muscles along the backs of her hamstrings as she maneuvered through the brush.
Her gear was too big, overwhelming her frame, but warmth seeped into his gut then burrowed lower as images of those thighs draped over his legs every morning filled his head.
He instantly forced his attention higher, hands curled into fists to keep himself from reaching out for her. Not happening. Ever.
She wasn’t some badge bunny he could take the edge off with.
This was Aslen. His best friend. The girl he’d fought tooth and nail to save from a failing system and a guardian who hadn’t given a crap about her.
She was more than temporary. She was his reason for every decision he’d made, every step forward, and he wasn’t going to mess with that.
Aslen rounded alongside the exposed wall of the shed, staring down at the charred, flaking remains of the body as the medical examiner ran through his initial assessment. So out of place in the middle of a crime scene.
“The fire did a good job of destroying fingerprints and DNA.” The medical examiner used the end of his pen to pry the victim’s jaw open. Exposing an empty black cavern. “But whoever left her here removed her teeth.”
“What does that mean?” Aslen’s gaze flicked to his. So brief, he might’ve missed it had he not been waiting for her to succumb to the shock of the day.
Murray tried to keep the frustration from his voice. And failed. “It means we’re not going to be able to get an ID.”