More than one brief, humorless laugh echoed through the room.
“Let me help.” I took Vincent from Jess and cradled him, offering him the bottle. “I’ll talk to the guys at the firehouse. There has been so much chatter about unmarked trucks, weird anomalies with farms, and that concentrate?—””
Gabe stood up. “Stop,” he gritted out. “No off the books heroics. We’ll cooperate in official investigations only.”
“What concentrate?” Jenn asked.
Josh picked up the stack of papers and tapped them against the table, straightening them with a little too much force. “Evergreen’s super product. The green fertilizer. We don’t use it. I told the sales rep to fuck off when he suggested we could increase our yields with his bullshit.”
I’d seen the Evergreen label on a rusted barrel a few weeks ago during a call out to the Jaffrey farm. The product was BGX-9. Not that it mattered, since we didn’t use it.
Josh pushed his chair back, the legs scraping against the hardwood. “I’m already behind.”
Brian nodded at Gabe, though he didn’t stop typing. Luckily, he and Jess and the girls were here for a little longer before school started again. His presence would be helpful during thisbullshit, and he had a way of using logic to keep people from getting worked up. He wouldn’t lead us astray.
The meeting dissolved. Papers were stacked, chairs scraped across the floor, and half the group took off. Gabe back to the office. Jenn to the café. Josh stomped out toward the barn, whistling for Wayne, who was probably off traumatizing the chickens.
Jess played with Vincent while I drank a cup of coffee, considering the red wooden sign at the end of the drive. The one that had been there all my life.
Lawrence Farm. Established 1948.
And for the first time, I was scared of what that sign might cost us all.
Chapter 38
Jasper
Vincent and I were nearly back to Evie’s house after our walk around town, and he was happily snoozing in his stroller when a prickle of awareness rose on my neck.
On instinct, I checked my phone. Nothing.
I sped up, ignoring the way my T-shirt clung to my skin, eager to get my little guy back into the air conditioning. But the strange sensation wouldn’t leave me.
Evie wouldn’t be home until seven, so Vincent and I had plenty of time to relax first. Maybe I’d make dinner, soften her up a little so she’d be willing to talk.
My hackles rose again, and a heartbeat later, sirens blared distantly. My muscles tensed as the sound got louder. I was not on duty, but my body responded automatically, ready to handle a crisis.
There were three distinct sirens. The ladder and the ambulance and what I assumed was a police car. Shit, this was serious.
I broke into a jog past Evie’s neighbor’s house and steered the stroller to my car so I could get my radio.
I fumbled with the door, and as I yanked it open, the device squawked. “Dispatch to engine one. What is your ETA to Sugar Moon?”
“Four minutes. What do you know?”
I pushed the stroller onto the lawn and unlatched Vincent’s bucket, then pressed the button on the side of my radio.
“Lawrence to dispatch. Please report.”
“Dispatch to Lawrence. Structure fire at Sugar Moon Syrup. Heavy smoke reported from the office building.”
My heart dropped, and my knees almost gave out.
Evie.
In a matter of seconds, I had Vincent’s seat latched into my car and was backing out of the driveway. As I headed toward town, I dialed Josh.
“Fire at Sugar Moon,” I blurted as dispatch continued to speak, sending out more units.
