Firestorm. Kelly Riley Ann

was the man? He’d demanded she meet him and then disappeared. She shivered, uneasy being alone in the large, shadowy building, which seemed absurd after spending so much of her youth there.

      She reached the office and gasped. The battered gray filing cabinets were open, the drawers empty. She maneuvered around mounds of manila folders and paper. What was going on? If Tanner was trying to hide something, his method worked. Finding anything useful to the investigation would be difficult in this mess.

      “Tanner!” she yelled for the third time, but only gurgling from the yellowed coffee machine answered her. She sidled around her father’s hefty desk. The painful knot rose in her throat again. This was the last place she’d seen Sam McGuire alive. The last place they’d spoken face to face. And argued.

      Files had fallen behind the chair. She squatted and examined the headings. Her father’s bold handwriting labeled some. The two desk drawers hung ajar. She tugged open the bottom where her father used to store his small, spiral-bound notebooks containing records of his activities, mileage and, most important, notes on daily events. Empty.

      She pulled on the top desk drawer, but the railing caught. She yanked harder and something fell with a clunk to the drawer below. She lifted out a gray rock embedded with sparkling minerals.

      Fool’s gold. She smiled as she rubbed the gold flakes between her fingers. Her father used to take her up to the waterfall and let her pick out pretty specimens to add to their rock and mineral collection at the cabin. Somehow, this specimen must’ve gotten wedged in between the drawers.

      She stood up and smacked into someone behind her. “Oh, sorry.” She spun awkwardly and her boots slid on the discarded files. Steely arms caught her as she stumbled, her cheek landing against a white shirt.

      “We really do need to stop meeting like this,” Tanner murmured into her hair, his arms tightening around her.

      THREE

      Kitty shoved Tanner away, her heart pounding. “Do you always sneak up on people, or is it just me you enjoy scaring?”

      Tanner’s amused expression vanished. “Excuse me, but this is my office. If anyone was sneaking, it was you.” He glanced at her fist. “Trying to steal something?”

      “What?” Kitty’s mind whirled. His musky aftershave was playing havoc with her already strung-out nerves, but what befuddled her most was that she’d liked being in Tanner’s arms.

      “What’s in your hand?”

      “Oh.” She uncurled her fingers. “Fool’s gold. And I wasn’t stealing it. There’s tons of this useless stuff around here. You want it?” She tossed the rock to Tanner. “This probably came from my dad’s collection. He had a special liking for pyrite.”

      He examined the specimen and handed it back. “Keep it.”

      “Thanks.” Kitty shoved pyrite in her back pocket. “Too bad it’s not real gold.”

      “I hear there are still gold mines in the mountains. My father likes to research local history.”

      “Most of the mines have been abandoned. My great-great-uncle owned a small claim during the gold rush but never made much progress. Dad said the tunnel eventually collapsed.” She glanced around the office. “Why is everything on the floor?”

      He cocked a hip on the desk, blocking the exit. “I thought maybe you could tell me.”

      The implication of his words hit her, and she sucked in a deep breath. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

      “You still have a key, don’t you?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe.” She lifted her palms toward the ceiling. “But anyone in the department could get in here.”

      “Johnson said you had a temper. Smashed the window at the café.”

      “I was eleven. Give me a break. Besides, whoever opened these cabinets must’ve used a crowbar. If I had a key, why would I bother?” She shoved a drawer shut with her knee.

      “Don’t touch anything.”

      “If the sheriff’s going to look for fingerprints, he already has a copy of mine and no, you don’t need to know why. For the record, Mr. Fire Chief, I stayed in the cabin all night.” Kitty wrapped her arms over her chest. “You seriously don’t think I’d vandalize the office.”

      Tanner’s dark eyes studied her, and then he sighed. “It crossed my mind, but no, I don’t. What were you looking for?”

      “Just my dad’s personal items from the desk. I know I should’ve picked the stuff up after the funeral, but I had to get back to work.”

      “You should’ve asked permission first. This is an open criminal investigation. You have no right being in here, especially without my permission.”

      “You invited me, remember?” She mentally counted to ten. “But you’re right. I could’ve waited until you returned.” She forced a bright smile. “Last night you said I could see the evidence you’d found.”

      “Nice try, but as I recall, I said you could stop by and answer some questions before you headed for home.”

      Kitty leaned toward him, still smiling. “Read my lips, Tanner. I’m not leaving until you drop the case against my dad. You’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”

      He studied her for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Was your dad as stubborn as you?”

      “More.”

      “That’s hard to believe,” Tanner muttered, moving to the valley wall map. “I consulted with Sheriff Johnson this morning, and he agreed you might provide some useful insight. Think you can handle being objective?”

      She squared her shoulders. “I’m Sam’s daughter, bred and trained to be tough.”

      He looked unconvinced but proceeded. “Let’s get to it then. I have a lot of work today.” He tapped the map. “As you know, Wildcat Ravine is where the fire started. Your father’s truck was found here in the parking area, singed but luckily not burned. We found kerosene traces in the cargo area.”

      “So?” Kitty moved closer so she could see. “That’s not unusual. My father ran a furnace business. People still use kerosene lamps and heaters in the more remote areas. Sometimes he made deliveries while out doing surveillance.”

      “We found a canister tossed in the woods.”

      “Where, exactly?”

      “Top of the falls.” He pointed to the spot where someone had shoved a pushpin.

      “Any fingerprints?”

      He shook his head. “Burned off.”

      “Anyone could’ve left a canister. It might’ve been there before the fire. The Bronco is a department vehicle and used by other personnel.”

      “But not everyone smokes cigars.”

      Kitty’s stomach clenched, remembering what Evan had mentioned about her dad being careless. “Again, it could’ve been someone else. He was giving up cigars.”

      “Apparently not soon enough. DNA from the saliva on the butt matches his. The cigar had fallen among the rocks, near where he….”

      “Fell.” She swallowed hard. “But the cigar could’ve been dropped there another time. Wildcat Ravine was a favorite place of his, yet another reason he wouldn’t have started a fire. If he saw smoke he’d go to investigate.”

      “No one knew he was up there. There’s no record he called the fire in.”

      “Maybe he didn’t have a chance to,” Kitty said with a sinking feeling as she remembered Tanner’s words from the previous evening. The only logical explanation would be that he was up there before the fire started.