She thumbed in his passcode and swiped through his inbox from memory out of the corner of his eye. Secrets weren’t something he’d allowed once he’d been made to be her and Jackson’s guardian. They’d shared everything, including passwords, pin numbers, and drug, alcohol and sexual history. They trusted one another, built their own little family after hisparents had passed. Right up until Aslen had surprised him by accepting a fire management position in Zion without talking to him first. That ember of resentment he’d tried to bury had flared little more than three hours ago when she’d told him she was resigning after this investigation. Now it felt like it was rising to a full-on flame. “Most of these are of the body we recovered in the shed. Wait. Here we go. The photographer got some shots of the crowd from this morning, and it looks like he went back a couple hours later to photograph the onlookers again.”
Seemed the chief had been as influenced by Aslen’s intuition as Murray was.
“Any repeat customers?” It’d be difficult to spot patterns without laying physical photos side by side to analyze, but according to Aslen, the arsonist was suspected of starting two fires already. The second had included a body. There was no telling when or how intense a third might start.
“Give me a minute.” Narrowing her eyes on the phone, she pinched the screen before swiping to the next photo as Murray fought to keep his attention on the rocky dirt road and not how she pursed her lips anytime she tried to concentrate. It was a habit she’d picked up well before he’d met her, but he couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculous way it contorted her face. “I’ve got something.”
“Already?” He chanced a glance at the screen but couldn’t see anything from here. Ripping the steering wheel to the right, Murray eased the truck to a stop.
Aslen handed him the phone, pointing out a man dressed in a tan jacket and jeans. The guy’s baseball hat hid most of his face. “Him. He was at the scene this morning.” She flicked her finger to the next set of images. “Then again or still a couple hours later. Same jacket and baseball cap.”
Murray tried to find a better angle, something that would give them a lead. Caucasian, maybe mid-thirties, though it was hardto tell at a distance. Scraggy blond hair stuck out from beneath the baseball cap, but every photo failed to provide more detail. “The photographer didn’t get a shot of his face.”
“Look at the rest of the photos.” She swiped through, each more focused on the crowd than the last. But not on the man she’d singled out. “He knew where the photographer was at all times.”
Understanding hit, and Murray raised his gaze to Aslen’s, absolutely awestruck by her brilliance. “Because he was avoiding the camera.”
Chapter Eleven
Only one bystander had gone out of their way to avoid the photographer.
The arsonist. It had to be him.
And the most logical place to start searching for him was Lava Point campground. Positioned a mere two miles from the epicenter of this morning’s fire, the campground really wasn’t anything special with only six available sites, but this area had obviously held importance to their suspect.
Aslen shouldered out of the pickup, surrounded by flat red dirt, towering trees and multiple campground sites containing picnic benches, firepits, vehicles and RVs. Crisp air cut through the trees and eased the heavy scent of smoke and ash, but there was no getting rid of that smell permanently. It would permeate everything in the area for months until summer storms and wind currents cleared it from the valley. “Registration reported all six campsites are currently occupied, but the evacuation order cleared everyone out this morning. Some may have returned since we lifted the order a few hours ago, but the odds of questioning campers isn’t great.”
Murray climbed out of the vehicle after her, the entire truck rocking with the slam of his door.
Rounding to the head of the pickup, she was nearly knocked on her ass by the sight of Murray shrugging on his official uniform jacket complete with vest, badge and the pistol at hiship. She’d always appreciated the way he’d filled out his police uniform back in Salt Lake City, but now… He was every woman’s fantasy all wrapped up in a tight, uniformed package. There was something about seeing him like this in the middle of the wilderness—on official business and not just to stick his nose where it didn’t belong—that had her heart thudding hard against her ribs. Her face heated as Murray’s gaze cut to hers. Because he’d caught her staring.
Crap on a cracker. Sliding slick palms down her slacks, Aslen cleared her throat and put everything she had into focusing on the layout of the campground and not the feeling of his attention dropping from her face, down the front of her body and back.
Did he just…check her out?
No. Not possible. At the very least, not plausible. That fantasy remained purely in her head. Not reality. And she definitely wasn’t under any illusion Murray Simpson was saving himself for the right woman to break through the ice around his heart, but he didn’t go out of his way to find company either. He was just cocky and good-looking enough he didn’t have to. He had no reason to turn all that smoldering intensity on her. She must have something in her teeth.
“N-nothing.” Aslen swiped her index finger across her teeth to make sure none of the omelet he’d made her caught, then nodded toward a blue SUV angled into one of the camping spots. Movement on the driver’s side settled her nerves. Great. Something new to focus on. “It looks like a couple of the campers have returned.”
Aslen took the lead, unwilling to turn back and see if Murray had followed. Nope. She didn’t care. And she wasn’t clenching her backside because of nerves either. Her breath shuddered free of her chest as she approached the first campsite ahead. Red dirt clung to her boots as she came around the back of the vehicle. She had to get it together. This wasn’t some fellowranger she thought was cute and might ask out. Murray didn’t give a damn about what she looked like, what she wore or if she showered. He was practically her ornery best friend who got on her last nerve at least once a week. She had no reason to be nervous.
Except they’d never had to work together before.
Warmth that had nothing to do with the midday heat charged up her neck then exploded downward. Right between her legs. Uh oh.
Brother. Big brother. Nothing more.
Ha.Right. Normal people didn’t think about what all those muscles might feel like against her hand as she unbuttoned his ranger uniform.
Aslen pasted a smile on her face as she approached the woman hauling two bright backpacks into the back seat of the SUV. “Hi, there. I’m Ranger Woods, and this is Ranger Simpson. We’d like to ask you a few questions if you have the time.”
Exhaustion darkened the circles under the woman’s eyes. Echoes of children from inside the canvas tent—arguing about something Aslen didn’t catch—bunched the woman’s shoulders closer to her ears as she faced off with the rangers. Dull blond hair fell from a rushed ponytail as the woman—obviously a mother, a very tired mother—shoved the packs into place. Sweat collected under her arms and around her T-shirt neckline. “I’m sorry. We really just need to get packed and get out of here.”
“I understand, and believe me, we don’t want to keep you any longer than we have to. This will just take a couple minutes.” Aslen tried to keep her voice even, calm. The woman looked as if she might bolt and take her chances with the desert instead of trying to break up another sibling argument. Aslen didn’t even blame her. “If you’re worried about the evacuation order or the fire—”
“Rebecca, where are the damn car keys? I told you not to touch them, and now they’ve up and disappeared.” The man’s voice preceded him only a couple seconds before he came into view. Glasses reflected the afternoon sun and accentuated a long, thin—almost gaunt—face. His frame was swallowed by a long-sleeve shirt complete with hiking vest and jeans as he approached. Tall, taller than his wife and Aslen. “Oh, I didn’t realize we had visitors. Is there a problem, rangers?”
Two small faces peeked through the opening at the front of the tent, then quickly disappeared. Aslen only caught a glimpse of the kids before their argument picked back up behind the canvas.
