I needed to shut my inner voice right the fuck off so I could focus. What Ulysses didn’t need was me becoming a liability. I was just…watching out for him. I’d hang back. I’d—
Shit.
I nearly drove right past his parked SUV. I hit the brakes, then carefully pulled over and reversed. I eased my pickup so I was positioned just before him. Then I cut the engine.
Damn man’s smarter than you—you would’ve just driven right up to the old place.
Right. So I wouldn’t make a good reporter. Or a cop, for that matter. Yet another reason why I’d chosen firefighting as a way to give back to my community—fires scared me less than bullets.
The moon shone—for the moment, but I spotted a few wispy clouds. The weather was supposed to turn tonight. Rain or even snow.
Christ knew, it was cold enough for it.
I ducked close to the ditch with the overgrown grass. One more small hill and I’d be at the property.
Smoke.
Fuck.
More familiar to me than any other scent in the world, the smoke curled around me. I pulled the lapel of my jacket over my nose as I slowed my pace.
When I crested the rise, the McFadden property came into view.
So far, the fire appeared to only be on the second floor of the old homestead. I whipped out my phone and dialed 9-1-1.
My eyes watered as I searched for signs of life in the windows.
Is Ulysses in there? Will I be able to get to him in time? Why didn’t I just confront him at my house and demand he bring me with him? Oh, better yet—why didn’t I just call Colton?
Questions I would hopefully live to seek answers for.
A shot rang out.
I hit the ground and my phone went skittering away.Fuck. I’d lost track of it in the dark.
“I saidget your fucking ass out here!” A clearly exasperated voice I recognized well. My chief, Gerald McInerny.
Goddamnit.
“I’m not coming out until you tell me who else is involved.” Another voice I recognized well. One belonging to a certain stubborn reporter whose hard head I was going to knock—once we got away from the gun. Because I would’ve laid the deed to my property on the fact Chief had the gun.
I crawled on my belly toward the blaze. The grass mostly covered my approach—and certainly no one was going to hear me over the roar of the rapidly growing fire.
A pile of pallets lay between me and the house—with several outbuildings to my left. I had to figure out whether to try to duck toward them.
Where the fuck is Ulysses?
Come to it…where the fuck is Chief?
“I’m not going to kill you. I just want to know what you know.” Gerard—attempting to sound reasonable. Hell, he couldn’t even pull that off. The desperation was clear in his tone.
“And I’ve told you that I turned just about everything over to the police. There’s nothing—”
“About everything ain’t everything. So just pony on over and—”
Another shot rang out.
Movement by the pallets caught my eye.
