Magnus, always eager to get in on the gossip, leaned forward. “Did you hear the FBI is here? They’re interviewing people and sniffing around.”
My gut twisted. That was news to me. Looked like I needed to talk to Josh and Jenn. Aside from a quick visit from Nolan, we’d heard nothing. Which made sense. There was no way our family farm was involved in any of this.
I adjusted my helmet, tightening my jaw. All I wanted to do was hold Vincent and tune out the rest of the world. The idea that there was a murderer running around the town where my child slept had all my protective instincts flaring to life.
Chris turned down Pine Street and hit the brakes. The engine squealed to a stop at the curb, the headlights bouncing off the white clapboard house.
A steady stream of smoke pulsed from the chimney, but there were no sparks.
I inhaled a calming breath. Okay, this wouldn’t be too bad.
“Walters and Polanski,” Chief barked. “You’re on the roof. Check on the residents and ready the chimney kit. Lawrence and Rookie, you’re the attack team. Get the camera.”
When she released us, we hopped out of the truck.
I turned to Magnus, game face on. “Get your mask on and stay on my shoulder.” He was mine to babysit today.
While we geared up, Chief did a three-sixty eval of the property and Martin checked on the residents.
The Glovers were an elderly couple who’d lived here my entire life. They had to be pushing ninety by now. Mr. Glover walked with a cane these days, but when I was a kid, he’d worked at the post office, and he’d always given us lollipops when we came in with my mom. Their kids had moved out of town years ago, and though they sometimes struggled on their own, their neighbors watched out for them.
When Martin approached where they were huddled up on the sidewalk holding their tiny dog, asking if anyone was injured, they waved him off. Once Chris had positioned the ladder and the chief gave us the okay to enter the structure, I headed for the front door with Magnus behind me. The living room was smoky, but not the worst I’d seen.
As Magnus fumbled the thermal imaging camera, I snatched it from him and quickly swept the walls.
“No heat extension,” I relayed to the team.
Magnus dropped the salvage tarp in front of the hearth and spread it out as I continued to scan. With every moment that passed, I breathed a little easier. It looked like it was small and easily contained.
“Ready for the bomb drop?” Chris asked.
With a gloved hand on his shoulder, I pulled Magnus back from the tarp. The last thing I needed was him getting hit with debris.
“Focus, rookie.”
The chains rattled down the chimney, followed by the whoosh of the weighted brush that came after the drop of the chemical retardant.
Burning creosote clattered into the fireplace, hissing against the embers as the retardant did its job.
With practiced efficiency, I shoveled the debris onto the tarp, waiting for it to extinguish.
“You’re so calm,” Magnus remarked, shoveling right along with me.
“Done this many times,” I replied. “So many folks up here rely on wood to heat their houses, but burning it creates creosote, and when it builds up in chimneys, this is what happens.”
Once we’d gotten the debris taken care of and the embers had all been snuffed out, Martin and Chris came in with brooms, and the four of us got the mess cleaned up. The smell was strong, but that would dissipate over the next few days.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Chief asked the Glovers as we were packing up.
“We’ll be fine,” Mr. Glover insisted, keeping his head high. “We’ll bundle up and keep the windows open.”
I shuddered. Hell no. Temps still dropped into the thirties at night this time of year, and after Will’s death, I’d caution anyone against sleeping with their house wide open like that.
Chief glanced over at me, dipping her chin, and with a return nod, I jogged to the rig and picked up my phone.
After a few minutes and a quick text exchange, I wandered back over to where the Glovers were shivering together on the sidewalk. “I’ve got the perfect place to set you three up,” I said, nodding at their little dog. “The cabin on the farm is empty right now, but Josh wants to rent it out during tourist season. How about you stay a few nights, then let us know what you think? You’d be doing us a big favor, and you’d have a place to stay.”
Mrs. Glover squeezed my hand. “You are such a good boy,” she said kindly. “And you look so much like your father.”
