tied the bandana across the lower half of his face.
She couldn’t stop herself from being Miss Know-It-All. “The fire marshal says the weave of a cotton bandana isn’t fine enough to prevent ash particles from getting through.”
“Don’t care,” he said. “The wetness makes breathing easier. Here’s the turnoff.”
After a quick left, she drove on a one-lane road that ascended a rugged slope. The safe house clung to the side of a granite cliff and faced away from the road. If she hadn’t known where she was going, Sam would never have found this place amid the rocks and trees.
When she exited her vehicle, the smoke swirled around her ankles in a thick miasma. From the wraparound porch of the house, she and Ty had a clear view of the wildfire. The blaze danced across the upper edge of a hogback ridge. With the sun going down, the billowing clouds of smoke turned an angry red. It looked like the gates of hell. A chopper flew over the leaping flames and dropped a load of retardant on the forest.
She watched as Ty wandered around to the side of the house toward the long attached garage. “Looking for something?”
“I’m being thorough.”
She noticed his hand resting on his belt near his holster, ready to make a quick draw. What was making him so suspicious? “Is there something I should know about?”
He joined her on the porch. “Long as I’m here, I might as well look around inside.”
His fingers hovered over a keypad outside the front door. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Do you happen to...?”
“Remember the code to deactivate the alarm?” She grinned and rattled off six digits. The Swain County sheriff always had the code. When the alarm went off, it rang through to her office, and she had to come up here to turn it off.
Before she could follow Ty inside, her cell phone rang. It was the fire marshal—a call she needed to take. As she answered, she signaled to Ty to go ahead without her.
“Marshal Hobbs,” she said, “what can you tell me?”
“The fire is mostly contained.” His voice was raspy. Sore throats must be an occupational hazard. “You won’t need to evacuate the town, especially not if it rains tonight like it’s supposed to.”
“That’s the good news,” she said. “What’s the bad?”
“Well, Sheriff, I’ve got a favor to ask. The chopper pilot spotted three hikers on the road by Horny Toad Creek. I can’t spare the men to pick them up. Could you take care of it?”
“No problem,” she assured him. “I happen to be in that area right now. How do you know they’re hikers?”
“The pilot said they were wearing backpacks. You know the look.”
“I sure do. Keep me posted on the fire.”
When Ty came out of the safe house, she waved him over to her SUV and told him about the hikers who needed a pickup. “I can’t imagine any sensible reason they’d hike near a wildfire. These guys must be thrill-seekers or morons.”
“Or reporters,” Ty said.
“Same thing.”
She’d had her fill of reporters after Wade’s death. They wouldn’t leave her alone, constantly pestered her for interviews or photos of her and Jenny. All she ever wanted was to grieve in private. But Wade’s accident was news.
One year and twenty-one days ago, he’d gone bow hunting with Ty and two other feds, including Ty’s boss, Everett Hurtado. A kayaker on the river had lost control in the rapids, and Wade had jumped into the frigid waters to rescue him. The kayaker had survived. Wade had been swept away by the white water. His body had never been found.
As Sam started the engine in her SUV, dark thoughts gnawed at the edge of her mind. She had plenty of things to worry about: the fire, the hikers, the lack of ventilation masks and Ty’s “important” news. But she could never escape the pain and the sorrow that had taken up permanent residence inside her. She’d never forget the loss of her husband. He was her soul mate, her dearest lover and best friend.
As she drove along the road that followed the twists and turns of the creek, she turned her head toward Ty. Might as well get this over with. “What’s this important thing you want to tell me?”
“You know, Sam, I can hardly look at you without thinking of Wade.”
“Back at you, Ty. You were one of his best friends. You grew up together.” She guided the SUV into a more open area that deviated from the path of the creek. “Is this important message about Wade?”
“How do you feel about him? Are you, maybe, looking at other men?”
“Hell no.” There was no other man, and there never would be. She only had room in her heart for Jenny and for Wade.
The road straightened out. The right side was a field behind a barbed-wire fence. To the left, a gently rising hillside climbed into a thick, old growth forest. If the fire got this far, these hills would go up like dry tinder.
Ty cleared his throat. “I was just thinking...”
“If you’re going to say that it’s time to move on, that I should get out there in the world and start dating, forget it. Don’t you dare tell me how to grieve.”
He pointed across the windshield to the left side of the road. “Over there.”
In the shadow of a tall cottonwood, she spotted a dark green sedan that apparently had gone across the shoulder and run into the shrubs, rocks and trees at the side of the road. She parked behind it. “Maybe our three hikers came from that car.”
“Makes sense,” Ty said. “Maybe they had an accident and are trying to walk back to civilization. But why didn’t we see them on the road? Why would they go toward the fire?”
She left the SUV and went to investigate. The green sedan blended into the trees and shrubs, which was why the helicopter pilot hadn’t noticed it. She saw the outline of a man’s head and shoulders behind the steering wheel.
He wasn’t moving.
A rising sense of dread crept up her spine and raised the fine hairs on the nape of her neck. Unlike the distant threat of the raging wildfire, this trouble was only a few steps away. Sam adjusted the holster on her belt for easier access to the Glock 23 she’d used to win marksmanship contests at the academy. Never once had she fired her pistol on the job: her stun gun was usually enough. But her cop instincts told her that this situation might require more firepower.
“Sir,” she called out as she moved closer to the vehicle, “I’m with the sheriff’s department. Show me your hands. Sir?”
Ty came up beside her. He held his Beretta at the ready. “I suggest we proceed with caution.”
“Ya think?”
He immediately backed off. “I’m following your lead, Sam.”
Even if Swain County wasn’t a hotbed of criminal activity, she knew the standard procedures and would adhere to them as much as possible. She pulled her pistol from the holster and went to the driver’s side. The window was down. Fully expecting to find the driver sleeping or drunk, she angled around until she could see inside.
“Sir, are you...?” The words froze in her mouth.
He’d been shot in the chest. The front of his plaid flannel shirt was drenched in blood from his neck to his gut. Oh God, what do I do next? What’s the procedure? She should check for a pulse, assess his condition. But she didn’t need to touch his pale jowls to know the flesh would be cold. His sightless eyes stared directly at her.
“He’s