Lacey found herself watching as Dean positioned himself against the boulder, noting how he still moved with the confident strength that had made him such an effective fire chief. Even in his early sixties and two years into retirement, he was still tall, still extremely good-looking, and clearly in excellent physical condition.
Dean braced his legs and pushed against the boulder with steady pressure. It shifted slightly, then rolled away from the burrow entrance with surprising ease.
"There we go," he said, pulling out his phone and switching on the flashlight app. He crouched down and peered into the hole, the light illuminating the interior. "It looks empty to me."
Lacey knelt beside him, their shoulders almost touching as they examined the burrow entrance. It was definitely empty, but the construction and size told her what kind of animal had lived here.
"This was probably a rabbit warren," Lacey said, making notes on her phone. "Could you take some pictures of the entrance and the surrounding area? I need to document the habitat loss for the federal report."
Dean took several photographs from different angles while Lacey dictated observations about soil conditions, vegetation damage, and the likelihood that the rabbits had escaped to safer areas.
"Where to next?" Dean asked when they finished with the burrow.
They spent the next hour walking through the burned area together, following the fire trail and examining damaged habitat. Lacey pointed out burned trees that had once housed bird nests, destroyed ground cover that small mammals depended on for food and shelter, and areas where the fire had burned so hot that it would take years for anything to grow back.
Dean proved to be an excellent assistant, taking detailed photographs while Lacey dictated entries into her phone. His knowledge of fire behavior helped him understand what she was looking for, and his steady hands with the camera allowed her to document everything properly despite her injury.
"Any sign of casualties?" Dean asked as they examined a section where the fire had burned particularly hot.
"Thankfully, no," Lacey replied, feeling genuinely relieved. "I was afraid we'd find animal bodies, but it looks like most speciesmanaged to evacuate successfully. The damage to their habitat is extensive, but at least they survived."
They continued working their way through the burned area, Dean logging GPS coordinates and taking photographs while Lacey assessed the damage and noted recovery prospects. Despite the awkwardness of their personal situation, Lacey found herself appreciating his presence. Dean understood this work in a way that few people did, and his familiarity with emergency response made him an ideal partner for this kind of assessment.
By the time they reached the far edge of the burned area, Lacey felt confident that they had documented everything thoroughly. The federal agents would have a complete picture of the habitat damage, and the investigation team would understand the environmental impact of the arson.
"Thank you," Lacey said as Dean helped her navigate over a fallen tree trunk. "I couldn't have done this properly without your help."
"It was my pleasure," Dean replied, and there was something in his voice that suggested he meant more than just the work they'd accomplished. "What happened here?" He glanced around.
Lacey explained what had happened, and as she finished talking and before Dean could say anything, voices approached from the other side of the burned area.
"Lacey, are you okay?" Holt's voice carried across the blackened landscape. "How's the assessment going?"
"Over here," Lacey called back, watching as Holt and June emerged from behind a cluster of burned pine trees.
"Dean Parker," Dean said, extending his hand to Holt as they approached. "I've been helping Lacey with her wildlife survey."
"Holt Dillinger," Holt replied, shaking Dean's hand. Then his expression shifted as recognition dawned. "Parker... are you related to Shaun Parker?"
"I’m his father," Dean said simply, his shoulders tensing slightly.
"I'm sorry for your loss,” Holt said, his voice low.
“Thank you,” Dean said, his voice a little gruff with emotion. Dean moved quickly to change the subject, the way he always did when conversations turned to Shaun's death. Lacey knew that Dean still blamed himself for encouraging his son to become a firefighter, still wondered if things might have been different if Shaun had chosen another profession. "What did you find in your examination of the burn patterns?" He aimed the question at Holt.
Holt described their findings. Including the evidence of accelerants, the deliberate nature of the fire's spread, although he thought it wasn’t meant to spread toward the federal reserve, but the wind had shifted.
"But I’m sure it was started by arson on the Henderson farm," Holt concluded.
Lacey shared her own findings, describing the habitat damage and showing Dean's photographs of the affected areas. The wildlife had largely survived, but the environmental impact would be felt for years.
"At least we didn't find any animal, and there were no human casualties," June observed. "That's something to be grateful for."
They were walking back toward the parking area when June asked Dean, "How did you end up at the Henderson farm?"
"I came out here to buy some strawberries," Dean explained. "Mrs. Henderson makes the best strawberry preserves in three counties, and I wanted to bring some to dinner tonight."
June's expression brightened. "Actually, Lacey, would you like to join us? I'm just getting takeout from Margo's, but it would be lovely to have you there."
