A wall of muscle pressed into Aslen’s back, almost unconsciously, but she couldn’t deny the added comfort of having Murray so close. “No problem. I was just speaking with your wife. We’d like to ask you a few questions about this morning before the evacuation order went out.”
The woman—Rebecca—handed off the car keys to her husband then folded her arms across her chest. Making herself look smaller than a moment ago. “I told them we were in a hurry.”
“That’s right.” The man slid his arm around his wife’s shoulders, triggering a flinch in Rebecca’s frame. Like she’d been physically repelled by the touch. Sweat built on the man’s receding hairline. His gaze flickered past Aslen and Murray, somewhere off to his right. “The fire got a little too close for comfort. I’m sure you can understand. We’d really like to get out of here as soon as possible.”
Aslen leaned back into Murray’s chest in silent warning, and his hand settled at the small of her back in response. They’d been around each other enough over the years to develop their own nonverbal communication. Just as she’d learned how to read past the stony blankness of his expressions, he’d come tointerpret the way she touched others and needed to be touched. “Of course, and as I explained to your wife, we don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary. We’d just like to know if you or your family saw or heard anything out of the ordinary this morning around four. Before the fire started.”
“I’m sorry. We were passed out from hiking all day yesterday. Even the kids went straight to bed.” Another cut of the husband’s gaze past her shoulder. Only this time Aslen dared a glimpse in that direction. Toward the RV parked across from this campground site. “Don’t.”
His plea froze Aslen to the core.
Strong fingers pressed into her lower back, grounding her better than any meditation, yoga practice or good book.
“Please. Don’t give us away.” The man—she didn’t know his name—shook his head. His tongue darted across his peeling bottom lip, and it was then Aslen noted the split on one side. “He’ll know we talked.”
“You were threatened.” Murray’s voice vibrated along Aslen’s spine, full of justice and violence and all the things he’d promised to do to those who’d hurt her. “By the camper across from you?”
Rebecca buried her face in her husband’s neck. “Please. We don’t want any trouble. Just let us go.”
“Did he hurt you?” Aslen fought the urge to take that step forward, to offer any kind of comfort she could. Memories, ones that could only be chased back by climbing through Murray’s bedroom window for years, threatened to superimpose into this moment, but she wouldn’t let them free. Of pain, betrayal. Of bruises, broken bones and screams from someone who was supposed to care about her. They had no place in her life now. Not as long as Murray was here. The thought physically jolted her, and the pressure at her lower back intensified. How wasshe supposed to travel the world on her own if she couldn’t even battle those demons alone?
The woman nodded, careful to keep her mouth turned into her husband’s shoulder. “He came into our tent this morning. Took our driver’s licenses and told us he knew where we lived. He said he’d hurt the kids if we told anyone what we saw. Please. We just want to go home.”
“I can’t help you unless you tell us what you saw.” Murray’s body heat countered the ice coursing through Aslen’s veins.
“Rebecca got up to visit the bathroom a little before four this morning.” The man ensured to keep his voice even, free of emotion for fear of alerting their campground neighbor. “She wasn’t gone long, but…”
“I saw him. He was carrying a gas can.” The exhaustion Aslen assumed had come from mothering two small children and surviving a controlling husband etched deeper into her face. This woman wasn’t tired. She was terrified. “He must’ve seen me, too, because just before I got back in the tent, someone grabbed me and shoved me through the opening. I landed on my shoulder. He…he could’ve killed us, but my son was awake. He was crying.”
Sobs cracked through the woman’s strained composure.
A gas can. Aslen craned her gaze to meet Murray’s. Understanding filtered into his expression. “Did you see anything else? A lighter or matches? Did he tell you what he was planning on doing with the gasoline?”
“No, but when we heard about the evacuation order due to the fire, we decided to end our vacation early. He still has our driver’s licenses. He knows where we live. When you arrest him, please, leave my family out of it.” The man pulled his wife closer, as though he could protect her with his touch alone. “Well, if that’s all, rangers, I’d like to finish packing and get my family home. I don’t want to take any chances with this fire.”
“Thank you for your time. You all have a safe trip home. If you remember anything unusual from this morning, please call into the visitor’s center and ask for Ranger Simpson.” Aslen raised her voice with a nod of appreciation. Walking away to create some distance between them and the family, she angled her back to the RV across from the campsite to give Murray the best vantage point. She’d agreed to consult about the arsonist’s behaviors and motives. She wasn’t trained to make an arrest or pursue a suspect, but she couldn’t leave Murray to do this alone either. “What now?”
A door slammed behind her.
Aslen twisted in time to catch a glimpse of a tan coat disappearing around the RV.
“Call it in. He’s on the run.” Murray tossed her out of his way and bolted after the suspect.
There one moment.
And gone the next.
Chapter Twelve
The flash of tan vanished from right in front of his eyes.
Murray barreled past the tree line, instantly surrounded by thick walls of forest, dead pine needles under his feet and silence.
His heart threatened to beat straight out of his chest. Despite Aslen’s attempt to ensure that family’s safety, the suspect had caught on and run. Murray had caught little more than a few facial features before he’d had taken off toward the wilderness, but the jacket matched the one captured in the photos from the scene of the fire this morning. Murray couldn’t fail to locate him. Not with the information the son of a bitch had on those kids.
Murray wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he failed another family.
The trees seemed to breathe around him. Sooner or later, he’d give himself away. Murray just had to be patient.
