Attracted to Fire

by DiAnn Mills

  They fell into step toward the ranch house. “You go first.”

  She toyed with how to preface her feelings. “Did Lindsay have a good night?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Everything all right in DC?”

  “Again, as far as I know. What’s up?” She sensed him studying her.

  “I have a bad feeling about today.”

  “That’s understandable, considering it’s the Fourth. Is this a woman’s intuition thing?”

  Great. “As a matter of fact, it is.”

  “Keep it in reserve. I have a favor.”

  How dare he discount her.

  “Meghan?”

  “Yes. What’s the favor?”

  “The president and First Lady would like to see Lindsay.”

  “Isn’t that Dave’s job?”

  Ash stopped in the driveway and frowned.

  “Oh, I get it. Dave asked her, and she refused. So now the job goes to me.”

  “You sure are cute when you’re mad.”

  What would he try next? “That might have worked on your kid sister or your girlfriend in college, but not me. Do your own dirty work.”

  “Lindsay prefers you over any of us.”

  Meghan met his gaze. “I’m trying to earn her trust so she’ll make good choices, not coerce her into doing something she isn’t ready to do.”

  “This is the president’s request.”

  She swallowed her exasperation. “I understand. But Lindsay’s fragile.”

  “Now you sound like Dave.”

  “In that respect, he’s right. Okay. I’ll talk to her. But I’m going to preface it with ‘I know Dave’s already approached you about seeing your parents.’”

  They continued in silence.

  “You’re a stubborn woman.”

  “Thank you. Would you keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary?”

  He chuckled. “I can do that. How about breakfast on the patio?”

  “Sounds like we’re at a resort. The other agents might talk.”

  “They already are.”

  Ash waited on the porch with his third cup of coffee, two slices of crisp bacon, and two pancakes oozing with maple syrup—and no jalapeños. Pepper had bowls of blueberries and strawberries to commemorate the holiday. Normally, pancakes were his favorite breakfast.

  But regret filled him for flirting with Meghan. How many agents had seen his irresponsible behavior? The long days with nothing to do but monitor the latest in DC and try to figure out who was behind the crimes had caused him to ramp up his personal Richter scale. He took a gulp of coffee and nearly choked. The Richter scale belonged to the earthquake that had rocked his heart.

  “Ash, are you all right?”

  Meghan had a habit of showing up at the most inopportune times. But he’d invited her. “Sure.”

  She slid into a chair with a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate with a pancake topped with strawberries and blueberries in the other.

  “Haven’t backed out of talking to Lindsay, have you?”

  “No.” She pointed to his cup. “Does that ever get washed?”

  He grinned. “And ruin my flawless reputation?”

  She grimaced. “Don’t let Dave get hold of it.” She took a sip of her own coffee. “I know this is a holiday, and it’s business as usual for us, and I can’t help but think, or rather hope, the shady happenings with Lindsay are over, but—”

  “We’re back to the women’s intuition thing, and you’ve got a feeling about today.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, since you’re going to talk to Lindsay about a visit from the president and Alexa, I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  Meghan realized she’d hit a brick wall with Lindsay.

  “I’m not ready to see Dad or Mom.” Lindsay’s quiet voice shook with vehemence. “I gave Dave my answer last night, and nothing’s changed.” She picked up the TV remote and resumed a segment of news.

  Meghan reflected on her earlier words to Ash. She was right. Asking Lindsay to agree to a visit from the president and the First Lady invited fireworks of another kind. “I’m only asking to see if you’d thought about it.”

  “I didn’t destroy all my brain cells. I do know how to speak.”

  “Okay. Topic ended. What do you want to do today?”

  Lindsay scowled. “Just like every other day.”

  “When’s the last time you baked chocolate chip cookies?”

  Lindsay flashed her an incredulous look. “Never. I was thinking more along the line of a party with plenty of drugs and booze.”

  “You don’t want that.” What had brought Lindsay to such lows?

  “Maybe you and Dave should shift roles.” Lindsay muted the TV. “This morning I’d do anything for a drink or a hit of coke. Sell my soul if that’s what it took. My life is a hellhole. Being stuck on this godforsaken dirt ranch. Chained to Secret Service agents. Can’t text or talk to my friends. None of that is my idea of living. Daddy should have left me alone.”

  “Oh, you can commit suicide when you’re free to leave here. But then Wade would have died for nothing.”

  “Aren’t you a bit dramatic? Putting his life on the line was his job.”

  “Aren’t you a bit callous?”

  “Walk in my shoes.”

  “Take your pity party somewhere else, Lindsay. You cared about Wade, and you grieved his death like the rest of us.”

  Lindsay’s face paled. She opened her mouth, then closed it. A moment later she resumed the news.

  Meghan debated challenging the already-disgruntled young woman. “He’s going to eventually get your father. What will it take for you to fight back?”

  The news flashed about an airliner from New York to San Francisco having to make a forced landing. Twelve passengers had been hospitalized. Lindsay gasped. Why did that upset her?

  “Murder is not all he’s capable of,” Lindsay said.

  “Then help us stop him.”

  “You don’t understand,” Lindsay whispered. “It’s out of my hands.”

  Pepper walked into the game room. “Excuse me, Meghan, but have you seen Ethan this morning?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Don’t you find it strange that he’s not out and about?”

  “Ash is in the operation room. Why don’t you ask him? He was outside early too.”

  “I did. He hasn’t seen him either. That’s not like Ethan. He’s always up by four thirty and in the stables pampering the horses.”

  A shiver raced through Meghan—the premonition from earlier in the day hit her hard.

  Chapter 36

  Ash knocked on the back door of Ethan’s home. Fresh white paint. He recalled Ethan working on it a few days ago. Said he wanted it looking good when Chip came home.

  When Ethan didn’t respond after the third knock, Ash called out for him and turned the knob. The door opened.

  “Ethan, are you here? We’re a little worried about you.”

  Ash pulled his SIG and wound his way through the living area to a hallway that he remembered led to two bedrooms.

  “Ethan?”

  Both bedrooms were empty. Beds made. He walked back to the living area and then the kitchen. There, on the floor beside the table, Ethan lay on his side, dressed in his typical light blue shirt and overalls. A huge bruise covered the left side of his face and eye. Chesney sat beside him.

  Ash felt the man’s neck for a pulse but found nothing. “Ah, Ethan, what happened to you?”

  He slipped his cell from his pocket and phoned for an ambulance. Ash hated this. Hated it.

  Meghan stood beside Bob with Lindsay between them and watched the ambulance leave the front gate of the Dancin’ Dust. Her stomach whirled with Ethan’s death, the devastation Chip would feel when he received word, and how Lindsay must be feeling.

  Bob nodded and stepped away. No doubt he understood Lindsay might need to talk. Meghan swallowed her own grief. Ethan always had a witty comment, even if the re
cipient didn’t want to hear it. Dying alone seemed wrong, but he was now free of pain and in the company of Jesus. In truth, he hadn’t been alone when his heart ceased beating.

  Chesney trotted over to Lindsay, and she scooped the terrier into her arms. She buried her face in his soft fur. “I’ll take care of this little guy. Ethan and Chip loved him.”

  “That’s sweet of you.” Meghan patted the dog’s head. She cringed. A gnawing feeling refused to back off. Ethan had wanted to talk to her last night, and she’d asked him if it could wait until morning so she could call her mom.

  She remembered he’d nibbled at the corner of his mouth. “One more day won’t make much difference.”

  “We can talk now. I can call my mom tomorrow since it’s a holiday.”

  He shook his head. “Listen, Meggie, your mother is far more important than this old man.”

  “I’ll call her right now and come by when I’m finished.”

  “You know, I’m a little tired. I think I’ll turn in early so I can be ready to celebrate the Fourth. Who knows? Maybe the Secret Service will turn Chip loose. I was mad at most of the agents, but I’ve forgiven them. Don’t have much choice.”

  That was the last time she’d spoken with Ethan. He must have been feeling the forewarning of the heart attack then. What had he wanted to talk about? Probably Chip.

  “I liked him.” Lindsay’s soft voice brought Meghan to where she should be—focused on her protectee.

  “Me too. He had a sense of humor and wit that reminded me of my grandfather.”

  “He always told me I was pretty.” She held the dog close. “When you and I walked through the stables and admired the horses, he’d point out little things about them. As though they were his kids.”

  “He called me Meggie. Hadn’t been called that since I was a kid.”

  “Chip told me neither of them had family left. But I bet people from all over the county will come to his funeral.”

  “Probably so. Wade used to take him to town and church. He said everyone there knew Ethan and loved him.”

  Lindsay smiled and whisked away a tear. “I’m tired of the deaths. I know Ethan’s was natural, but it’s too soon after Wade. Poor Chip. He must be miserable.”

  Would this draw out a confession from Chip? “Maybe you could write a song about Ethan.”

  “I think I will. Might help how awful I feel. Dave and Carla suggested I write a song too. You know, Meghan, the Dancin’ Dust is cursed. Sometimes I don’t think any of us will ever leave alive.”

  “Oh yes, we will. The situation’s hard right now, but it’s only a matter of time.”

  Lindsay tilted her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to DC.”

  “Dave will give you the tools to fight the addictions.”

  Lindsay turned and stared at the house. “Those who want me out of the picture haven’t given up. They’re just dragging their feet to scare me.”

  “Drug dealers are the lowlifes of the earth. They’ll be caught.”

  Lindsay walked toward the house.

  Meghan couldn’t let her leave without some reassurance. “We’re on your side.”

  Lindsay faced her. “Do you believe in demons?”

  What did she mean? “I believe in a power stronger than demons.”

  “Then you’d better be calling on it.”

  Chapter 37

  Ash glanced at his team, Lindsay, Dave, and Carla gathered on the patio, like so many other nights. But tonight there were no sounds of laughter or teasing. Quiet. Ethan’s confirmed heart attack had destroyed any thought of celebration. Earlier Meghan volunteered to feed and water the horses until Scottard Burnette replaced Ethan. The ranch could not operate on its own.

  Chesney sat at Lindsay’s feet, seemingly comfortable with the young woman. She’d attached herself to the terrier, and Ash supposed the dog was both a distraction and a comfort.

  Pepper continued to bring out one tempting dish after another, each one with a card that read “spicy” or “weenie,” and she had the grill hot for steaks. She took the award for being a trouper, rallying her talents to help them get through the evening.

  “Since none of us are in a party mood, we could pay tribute to Ethan.” Ash chose honesty. “I’ll miss him. He was wise and lived his faith.”

  Bob cleared his throat. “Ethan was a bigger-than-life kind of guy. I think his passing today salutes who he was and what he stood for. Our country’s founders and their principles were ingrained in him. If that’s cheesy, then too bad.”

  “I envied his simple lifestyle.” Lindsay’s admittance came as a surprise to Ash. The cleaner she got, the more he respected her. “He said he believed in me. Called me Lindy Lou.”

  “Scottard Burnette called earlier,” Ash said. “He’s grieving Ethan’s death. Plans to be here for the funeral on Thursday. Chip will attend too. The Dancin’ Dust will be a busy place.”

  “I don’t imagine I’ll be going to the funeral.” Lindsay’s voice had suddenly taken a cold turn. “No point in sending whoever’s after me an invitation.”

  “I understand. You can visit with Mr. Burnette afterward. He said he was looking forward to seeing you.”

  Lindsay stiffened. “He can look all he wants. I’ll be in my room with the door locked.”

  Thursday at 1300, Meghan stood on the front porch and watched the extended-cab pickup drive through the gate of the Dancin’ Dust with Scottard Burnette, Ash, and Victor. The three had attended Ethan’s funeral and were returning for lunch.

  Pepper had been scurrying about making sure she had Mr. Burnette’s favorite shrimp diablo. She’d even persuaded the new ranch hand, Luke Skinner, to help her pick and shuck corn. Luke worked hard with little to say and lived in the area. He’d been employed by Mr. Burnette in the past.

  Meghan’s attention rested on the helicopter pad. The moment Burnette landed this morning, Lindsay had headed to her room.

  “Tell him I’m sick.” Her statement seemed skewed with her remarks earlier in the week. Instead of refusing to see him, she voiced an excuse.

  One day Meghan intended to find out why Lindsay rejected the love of those who cared for her the most.

  Mr. Burnette entered the house and greeted each person, giving Pepper a hug. He turned to Dave and shook his hand. “Is my Lindsay-girl still feeling bad?”

  “I’m afraid so, sir.”

  “Surely she’s not so ill that she can’t see her Uncle Scottard?”

  “Unfortunately, she’s in bed, sir. Some days are good, and some are more traumatic. Withdrawals can be devastating, and she’s grieving Ethan’s death.”

  Dave was stretching the truth for Lindsay’s sake. She must have given him a good reason not to see the press secretary.

  “Does she still have hallucinations? The president is deeply concerned about those.”

  Dave nodded. “They’re not as recurring.”

  Mr. Burnette stared at the staircase. “I think I’ll just go on upstairs and knock on her door. If she’s awake, I’m sure she’ll see me.”

  Meghan started to protest, but Dave seemed to have the matter under control.

  “I doubt it, sir.”

  Mr. Burnette snapped his attention to Dave. “Why’s that?”

  The tension could have been cut with a machete.

  “She feels that it would be unfair to see you before she has an opportunity to have reconciliation with her parents.”

  “This is my ranch.”

  “And the president said I was in charge of her rehabilitation.”

  Good going, Dave. Stand up for your principles.

  Mr. Burnette’s eyes widened, and he poked his glasses onto his nose. His face reddened. “That’s a step in the right direction for Lindsay. Not sure when the last time was that she thought about someone other than herself. So she must be making progress.”

  “Definitely. The treatment has made great strides.”

  “I’ve read your last report to the president, but
I had difficulty believing you were getting through to her. Riding horses. Reading. Watching old movies. Taking an interest in news. It’s a miracle.” He reached out to shake Dave’s hand again. “Congratulations. I just wish I’d heard the good news directly from her. More of a celebration instead of Ethan’s funeral.”

  “We all wish that, sir.”

  “Ethan will be sorely missed. Knew every square inch of this land. I’d like to get Chip back here as soon as possible. He isn’t any more involved with the drug dealer out to get Lindsay or the one who murdered Wade than I am. Until I can get Chip back on the Dancin’ Dust, Luke will do an excellent job. Ethan introduced him to me a couple of years ago. Still, it’s not the same. Never will be.” He took a deep breath and smiled at Meghan. “I hope your role has been pleasant.”

  “It has, sir.”

  He chuckled. “How many times has she slapped you?”

  Meghan didn’t find his comment appropriate, but she kept her sentiments to herself. “None, sir.” He shook his head. “Maybe I need some of those vitamins and fresh country air. You know, Agent Connors, I asked Ash on the way back from the funeral if he was keeping his hands to himself. Being stuck out here day after day with a pretty woman like you would drive me crazy. The nights here can be long and lonely.” He laughed again.

  Heat rose up Meghan’s neck and face. The Dancin’ Dust may be Burnette’s ranch, and he might feel relaxed in his own home, but he needed a few manners. Beginning now. Not that she hadn’t heard those types of remarks before, but she expected more professionalism from a high government official.

  “Excuse me, sir. I need to relieve Bob so he has an opportunity to say hello to you.” She forced a smile and walked past him to the stairway. Meghan caught Ash’s attention, and he lifted his chin. For a moment, fury swept across his features.

  Thank you, Ash.

  Was Scottard Burnette’s rude behavior typical when he wasn’t with the president?

  “I need to talk to my Pepper. Best cook this side of the Mason-Dixon Line.”

  As if on cue, she stepped into the living area. “I have lunch ready, but if you’d like to have a word with me first, I’m available.”