The trail led straight through the brush to the burning house. Because of course it did.
Noah’s gut did a swan dive. “Someone’s in there.”
He’d barely gotten the words out when sirens screamed in the distance. But distance was the problem. Judging by the way the flames consumed the weathered wood, they didn’t have that kind of time.
Whoever was in the house could already be struggling with smoke inhalation.
Heavy boots pounded through the underbrush as a team of firefighters in full gear burst into view. The last one stopped short, pulling off his helmet and face shield as he zeroed in on Noah.
It was his cousin Ryan. Thank goodness.
“You called this in?” Ryan’s voice carried that edge of command that had laced a million Thanksgiving and Christmas conversations. “What’s the situation?”
Noah grabbed Ryan’s arm, his fingers barely able to grip the heavy fire-resistant fabric of his cousin’s turnout coat. “Someone’s inside the shack. Dancer’s sure.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed as he jammed his helmet on his head and peered at the burning shack through his face shield. “Location?”
“Near the front door, based on his alert pattern.”
Ryan didn’t hesitate. Just adjusted his oxygen mask and charged the building like he did this every day. Which he probably did. Coltons always seemed to be headed toward danger instead of away from it.
Time ceased to have meaning as they watched Ryan disappear into the smoke. Noah’s muscles flexed to follow; after all, he was a Colton too. But he forced himself to stay put. This was Ryan’s territory, just like SAR was his, and Jacob owned the Annie Ross investigation.
Though he’d managed to break off a chunk and hand it to Noah and Sabrina, hadn’t he?
Noah’s mind spun through the facts they had. Remote location. Deliberate fire. Suspicious timing. He had a feeling this story was about to break wide open.
When Ryan emerged from the smoke several pulse-pounding moments later, he was carrying something. An unconscious woman. Hopefully she was unconscious. The alternative meant they’d been too late and Noah refused to accept that.
She was barefoot and wearing a thin shirt and pants. No coat. The similarities to Annie Ross were remarkable.
That’s when he noticed her bound wrists and ankles.
This was no accident. Someone had tied up this woman and left her to die in that fire.
“Medical, now!” Ryan’s voice carried an edge Noah had never heard before, and that was saying something for a guy who bled confidence and authority. “And law enforcement. This is way more than solely a structural fire.”
Right on cue, a vehicle marked with the insignia of the Navajo Nation Police rolled up as if they’d been waiting in the wings. The lone officer emerged with the kind of fluid efficiency that said he routinely inserted himself in active emergencies.
Great. Because jurisdictional squabbles were exactly what this situation needed.
The officer’s shoulder bore the distinctive yellow, red and forest-green patch of the tribal police, and pinned to his uniform shirt was a name plate that read C. Benally.
“This scene requires tribal involvement.” Benally’s quiet voice somehow cut through the chaos. “Given the proximity to Navajo lands and the nature of the incident, we have concurrent jurisdiction.”
The local uniforms who’d shown up with the firefighters bristled. Noah recognized the tension—jurisdictional disputes were never simple when multiple agencies had legitimate claims.
One of the officers waved off the Navajo cop. “This is county land—”
“With clear connections to an ongoing investigation in my department.” Benally’s tone could have frozen lava.
Noah glanced at Sabrina and he could tell she’d picked up on the careful wording too. This fire and the unconscious woman may be connected to a Navajo Nation PD investigation. Which meant it could actually connect to the Annie Ross case as well.
“I’ll need statements from everyone.” Benally’s sharp gaze landed on Noah and Sabrina. “Starting with you two since you’re the only civilians here. What are you doing out this close to Navajo land at dawn?”
Oh, this was going to be fun to explain.Well, you see, my brother at IBS gave me a tip and we decided to come tromp all over your crime scene.
Before Officer Benally could make good on his threat to force them to make statements, the scene devolved into the usual jurisdictional dance as more vehicles arrived. Tribal police, the San Juan County sheriff, crime scene units, additional medical support. Everyone wanted a piece of the action, and no one wanted to give ground.
