“Murder? Are you serious?”
Josie sighed, frustrated. This wasn’t the conversation she had imagined having with her old friend. “I don’t want to rehash this, Pete. It’s all too hard to get into again. You understand?”
“The shrink doing you any good?”
Josie sighed. “I’m not sure how a therapist can fix me. I know the guilt is misplaced, but it’s still there. My involvement wasn’t intentional, but it’s a fact. And I can’t get it out of my head.”
Pete crossed his arms again and leaned back to get a better look at her. “I saw more shrinks during high school than you could count. You remember.”
She nodded. She did remember. Pete could do no right in his parents’ eyes. He had spent many nights sleeping on a cot in her garage after his own parents would kick him out for not obeying their rules. Then they’d come to collect him, to drag him off to another therapy session.
“Mom and Dad thought I was psycho because I wanted to skydive and drag race and raise hell. Everybody wanted to figure me out. Fix me. Drug me. They put me on diets. No meat, no sugar, no whatever. No alcohol. I was on so many drugs for a while I couldn’t function. It was crazy. Everybody wanted me to crawl around inside my own head twenty-four/seven. Thinking about everything but what I wanted. Talking about it. They tried to get me to live like somebody I wasn’t.”
Josie said, “I don't think that's my issue.”
“You don’t get it. You gotta get out of your head.” He paused, and she could tell some inner dialogue was taking place in his mind, swirling at speeds other people could never keep up with. He reached out and squeezed her arm, the grip tight, not friendly. “We’ll get together before I leave. I got your cure.”
Josie laughed in spite of his serious expression. “I don’t think I need a cure.”
Pete’s eyes widened and she remembered the old intensity of their days in high school. If Pete wanted something, the rest of them went along for the ride because there was no stopping him. “Josie, don’t act like I don’t know anything. I can help you. Hell, I could have helped Dillon if he was still here.”
A man dressed in a khaki jumpsuit opened the door and yelled, “Get in here and suit up, Pete. We’re headed out.”
Josie smiled. “We’ll talk again before you head back to Montana. Be careful up there.”
He nodded his head slowly and gave her a half grin. “I know the look. You’re thinking, He’s crazier than ever.”
She laughed. “That’s not true. I never thought you were crazy. Maybe a little manic, but never crazy.”
Pete looked back over his shoulder; the man who’d come to get him had disappeared. “Then trust me. I got my own method for getting your head clean.” He stood and wrapped her in a rough hug, then pulled away and jogged toward the door. When he reached it he turned and winked. “Look at me, Josie. I’m living proof.”
THREE
The Artemis firehouse was located a block west of the police department. The town was laid out in a grid formation aligned with the Rio Grande, just six miles to the south, and the Chinati Mountain range, about twenty miles to the north. Artemis struggled to keep the storefronts around the town square occupied and the businesses if not thriving, at least maintaining. Several large ranching operations brought most of the commerce into town. Artemis was primarily populated by those who wanted little to do with the outside world; they desired privacy and the freedom to run their lives as they saw fit with as little government interference as possible. Living off the grid wasn’t just unplugging from the electric company: it was an isolated way of life that Josie respected and often aspired to.
The streets around the firehouse were already packed with a mix of firefighters’ pickup trucks, sheriffs’ cars, and police jeeps. Josie parked in her designated place at the PD and walked to the firehouse, sticking to the side of the street where the shade trees provided a measure of relief from the sun. The bank sign down the street read 103 degrees, and the heat showed no sign of breaking. Temperatures in the hundreds down in the river valley were typical for early July, but Josie held out hope for an early monsoon season, especially with the fire risk so high.
Josie walked through the empty engine bay and figured the fire truck was probably already positioned up north near the mudflats and the prairie grasses. An open door at the back of the bay led to a training room for the volunteer fire department. She found every seat taken, and most of the standing area in the room occupied as well. Dozens of voices mixed together as worried officers and firefighters prepared for the worst.
Officer Otto Podowski stood at the other end of the room, smoothing down the white flyaway hair that never seemed to stay put on his balding head. He had been her boss when she’d first been hired by the police department, nearly fifteen years ago. When he decided to give up the extra stress that came with running the department he’d encouraged her to put in for the chief’s position. Otto was a first-rate cop and one of her closest friends.
He offered a friendly smile as she approached, although his demeanor was sober. “What’s the word?” he asked.
“Marta’s at the watchtower. I saw smoke in Piedra Labrada just before she came on duty. I called it in to Doug. We’re hoping it doesn’t jump the river,” Josie said.
“I hope Mexico’s got somebody working it. We’re stretched pretty thin.”
“We’ve got some extra help coming in today. I just left the Marfa airport,” she said. “I met up with an old friend of mine from high school that’s with a smoke jumper crew out of Montana.”
He leaned back slightly at the news. “No kidding?”
She smiled. “I hadn’t seen him since school. I’d heard he was jumping but I never imagined we’d meet again like this.”
The noise level of fifty people all talking among themselves died down as they noticed Fire Chief Doug Free walk to the front of the room. It didn’t take long for him to get their attention. People were desperate for news. Not only were the group of first responders worried about their town and their neighbors, but they were also concerned for their own homes and families.
Finally Doug began. “Thank you all for coming. You know we’re low-tech here. No air-conditioning and no microphone, so bear with me. This should take about twenty minutes with the law enforcement, then I need the firemen to stick around another twenty for direction. I’ll get you back out on the front lines as soon as possible.” He pulled a blue bandanna out of his back jeans pocket and wiped the sweat off of his forehead. He had brown hair that he wore combed back to one side and he had dark-brown eyes filled with an intensity that was evident even from across the room. He was a trim man with an athletic build. Josie noticed that all the firefighters in the room were in good physical shape. In the field they carried fifty-pound water sacks, additional equipment, heavy fire suits, and they had to be able to walk for miles at a time.
“As you know, yesterday I requested a voluntary evacuation for the southern part of Arroyo County,” he went on. “The northern half of the county has already evacuated. But things just got worse about ten minutes ago. We’re looking at a mandatory evacuation. The Harrison Ridge fire is headed toward us from up north. It’s slowed down somewhat as the wind gusts have died down. Hopefully as evening falls we’ll lose the wind and be able to stay on top of it. The bad news is we’ve got a fire that started late afternoon in Piedra Labrada. My spotter just called and said the fire’s jumped the river in two places. I just sent Joey, Jake, and Luke over there about twenty minutes ago. The wind has me worried. We’ve got wind gusts coming up out of the canyons down by the river blowing northeast. And the Harrison Ridge fire is continuing to spread south. Both fires could potentially strike Artemis.”
A new EMS driver that Josie had never met spoke up. “What’s the difference between a voluntary and a mandatory evacuation?”
Doug smiled. “In reality, nothing. We had reached the point where people weren’t taking the calls for evacuation seriously, so we added the mandatory eva
cuation level to let folks know the danger is imminent and immediate. We can’t actually force someone off their property.” He paused, as if deciding if he should say more, and then turned to face the whiteboard behind him.
Someone had already drawn a crude map of Arroyo County, shaped like a piece of pie with the tip pointing north. A square represented Artemis on the south end of the county, taking up about half the crust. Six miles separated downtown Artemis from the river and the border with Mexico. The other two towns shown on the map were smaller circles up north, and they represented the towns of Hepburn and Riseman. A wide strip of red was shaded over the central part of Arroyo County, and it covered both Hepburn and Riseman. The amount of red provided a disturbing visual.
Doug ran his hand down the middle part of the county, from the tip of the pie, directly toward Artemis. The red stopped just above the town.
“Over the past two days the fire has destroyed both towns, burning homes and property. At this point we still don’t know exact numbers, but the devastation is immense for them.” Doug tapped his finger on the clear area between the red band and Artemis below it. “I’d say we have about fifty miles between the mudflats at the north end of Artemis and the fire’s path.” He paused and turned to the group of officers and firefighters, all grim-faced and obviously distraught over the news. They were concerned about the limited resources available to fight a fire of this magnitude.
Gabriel Vasquez, who Josie knew was one of Doug’s best volunteers, asked, “Can you estimate how long before it gets here?”
“The high temperatures and the storm clouds are giving us really unpredictable conditions. I’m not ready to put an ETA on it. As evening approaches, I would predict the wind will die down, but we have to prepare for the worst.”
“Which is?” Vasquez said.
Doug turned back to the whiteboard and drew arrows on either side of the red vertical strip representing the Harrison Ridge fire. The arrows angled in toward the red area. “We have to assume this fire will follow the same trajectory, which is a straight path south toward the mudflats north of town.” He pointed to the outskirts of town, on the northern edge. “We’ll flank the fire on either side of it and try to squeeze it out before it gets here.”
One of the younger sheriff’s deputies, Dave Phillips, called out, “Why not get in front of it? We draw a line in the sand and put a line of fire trucks across it. We put everything we got out there, slurry drops, water trucks, water packs. We just hit it head-on.”
Doug again wiped his forehead with the bandanna and put a hand up. “You have to realize, we’re not talking about a forest fire that burns sections for hours at a time. We’re talking about grass fires that can spread at lightning speed. The fire comes at you so fast you don’t have time to get out of its way. And, don’t think a grass fire can’t kill you. They burn hot and fast, and with the wind gusts we’ve seen? You don’t want to put yourself out in front of it.”
The room was silent. Josie thought about Doug’s description and wondered how a team of firefighters could discern the front end of a fire at night and with no aerial view, just the knowledge passed along by the firefighters themselves and the spotters throughout the county. It was a frightening thought.
“We’ve got a positive going for us tonight. A hotshot crew out of Montana is here in Artemis. They’re smoke jumpers who were flying in to train at Big Bend National Park this weekend. They’ve agreed to help us until we get this under control. It’ll put more feet on the ground.” Doug motioned his head toward the back of the room and Josie noticed that Pete and several other men in khaki jumpsuits had entered the room. Several people began clapping and then the room filled with applause. The men standing in the doorway grinned at the reception and waved it off.
Doug spent the next ten minutes discussing the plan of action and making it clear that he didn’t want the law enforcement officers fighting the fire; he wanted them supporting the firefighters with evacuation efforts.
“If I can use one of you on the line I’ll ask you personally.” He pointed toward the men and women sitting at the desks in front of him. “Most of these volunteers have been with me for several years now. It takes two years to really begin understanding fire suppression. The variables are endless, from the fuel on the ground to wind speed and direction, humidity, firebreaks, number of men and the tools being used. Homes and ranches and barns all burn different. All these things affect how we approach a fire. It’s not just a matter of pointing a fire hose at it. Without proper training you could put yourself and everyone else in grave danger.”
Doug pointed at Josie. “Chief Gray and her department are in charge of evacuations in and around Artemis.” Josie nodded once, acknowledging what she already knew. Doug gestured across the room at Roy Martínez, a burly, retired marine. “Sheriff Martínez is in charge of the evacuation at the jail. Gray and Martínez already have a working evacuation plan. They’ll be contacting their volunteer groups to aid in the evacuation. Just make sure you’re ready for your call tonight.”
After the law enforcement officers were dismissed, Josie and Otto walked to the police department to discuss plans for the night. The department was located directly across the street from the main entrance of the Arroyo County Courthouse. The PD was connected to the City Office on one side, where Mayor Steve Moss worked, and Tiny’s Gun Club on the other. The PD had two large plate-glass windows facing the courthouse square, with a glass door in the middle. Artemis Police Department was painted in gold across the window to the left of the door, with their motto, To Serve and Protect, painted on the other. She and Otto walked into the building and both sighed at the cool of the air-conditioning and the familiar stale smell of the office. Dispatcher Lou Hagerty rolled her desk chair back from her computer when she saw them.
Lou had recently gone on a health kick, giving up snack food, coffee, and soft drinks. She had lost thirty pounds, which had left her white dispatcher shirt and navy pants hanging loosely on her thin body. Josie was certain that Lou could pull on the pants and shirt without unbuttoning or unzipping anything. Her pants were cinched around her waist with a belt that Lou had proudly drilled a new hole in to accommodate her smaller size. Josie had suggested several times that Lou needed to order a new set of clothes, but Lou hadn’t taken the hint.
Despite this change in diet, Marlboro Lights still poked out of the side of Lou’s purse, which sat on her desktop, waiting for the break when she could leave the building and smoke two. Lou had made it very clear she had no intention of quitting cigarettes; she said they were keeping her healthy while she got through the first year of breaking the snack food habit.
“I just heard about the second fire,” Lou said. “You ready to start evacuations? I’ve already had several calls.”
“When people call, tell them we’ll be announcing all road closings and evacuation routes on Marfa Public Radio. Otto and I are pulling together the mandatory evacuation plans now. They’ll be announced first on MPR, and then we’ll start the phone trees. We could be moving people as early as tonight. My suggestion is head for the evacuation centers in Marfa or Presidio as a precaution.”
FOUR
Otto followed Josie up the stairs and waited behind her as she unlocked the door to the office. She flipped on the lights and heard the familiar buzz of the fluorescent bulbs. The room was split into three workspaces, for Josie, Otto, and Marta, furnished with matching metal desks and filing cabinets, with a large conference table in the front. Josie’s attention was drawn beyond Otto and Marta’s desks to the large windows that made up the back wall. The view was grim; the sky was dark and she was no longer able to tell if she was seeing the overcast sky or smoke from the Harrison Ridge fire.
She found the Artemis evacuation plan in her filing cabinet. She ignored the county map. The fire had already spread through the upper two-thirds of the county and the residents there had been evacuated days ago to Presidio County. Doug had said it would be several days before residents of the
two towns up north would be allowed to return home.
Otto grabbed them each a water bottle out of the dorm-sized refrigerator located at the back of the office. He handed one to Josie and said, “It’s been almost six years since we faced an evacuation like this. I got a call from the director of EMS. She says they’re ready with shelters set up at the schools in Presidio.”
“I talked to Helen too. She says they have meals ready on standby to cover three days, and bedding for three hundred. I sure hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Josie sat down beside Otto at the conference table and opened a photocopy of the local map they had drawn up several years ago. It was split into three regions encompassing the town of Artemis and the ranches closest to the town. Circling the top part of the map with her finger, she said, “I’ll take the region up north by the mudflats. That’ll be the area hit first.”
Next, she pointed to the middle of the map. “Obviously this is the most populated because it includes downtown. You’ll take this area. You’ve got your list of volunteers?”
Otto nodded. “I’ll start calling as soon as we’re done here. I have six people designated, all business owners who offered to make their own phone calls.”
“Good. Marta’s in charge of the most remote areas on the east and west sides of Artemis. She’ll have the hardest time reaching people.”
“She’ll also have the largest number of people who refuse to evacuate.”
Josie ignored the comment. It was a frustration, but one they had little control over. “Let’s get our volunteers called now and put them on alert. I want them ready to make their calls immediately when we get orders from Doug.”
“You got it,” he said.
“I’m going to run home and check in with Dell. Then I’ll start making calls.”
* * *
Firebreak: A Mystery Page 2
