Hot, Shot, and Bothered

by Nora McFarland

  He walked our entire group to one of the tables and sat down at a large computer monitor. “Most of this was in the briefing, but it may come across better if I show you on the map.”

  He gestured above us to the projection at the front of the room. It showed Lake Elizabeth, Mt. Terrill, and Terrill Valley next door. The whole thing was sliced down the middle by Highway 55, running from the lake, up through Tilly Heights, and then over into the valley. The burnt area was indicated by a huge ocean of red shading.

  “We believe the point of origin for the fire was here.” He used the mouse and a flashing dot appeared in Terrill Valley. “It began on uninhabited lands north of Highway 55 and then spread into the Sequoia National Forest.

  “On Monday the winds shifted to the west.” He clicked the mouse a few times and moving arrows appeared going in the direction of Mt. Terrill and the lake on the other side. “It took everyone by surprise. I mean everyone. The fire jumped the containment lines. The two men we lost were falling back when their truck went off the road.” His voice wavered. “It’s a hell of a thing. I’ve never lost a man before.”

  The governor struck the perfect tone to convey both grief and strength. “Our entire state is mourning them.”

  The commander nodded, but said, “I don’t intend to mourn anyone else. The fire is in the valley right now, but if it reaches the foothills by tomorrow afternoon, the conditions will be perfect for a blowup.”

  He used the mouse and drew lines on the map. “If that happens, it’s going to race straight up these sections of Mt. Terrill like chimneys.” He looked up. “It’s imperative that all of our personnel and local residents are evacuated by then.”

  “Assuming the worst,” Rod said, “and it does burn all the way to the communication towers on the ridge of the mountain, how likely is it that the fire would then come down this side to Tilly Heights?”

  The commander shook his head. “Fires burn much more slowly down a mountain than up, but there are no guarantees in a situation like this. That’s why we’ve got dozers and hand crews constructing indirect fire lines in the steep terrain on both sides of the mountain ridge.”

  “But if it did reach Tilly Heights, the property damage would be in the hundreds of millions of dollars, right?”

  The governor jumped in and answered, without answering. “The really tragic thing about disasters like this is that most are preventable.”

  Rod accepted the change in subject, but turned it for his own end. “Is there any word yet on what started the Terrill Wildfire?”

  The commander shook his head. “We’ve eliminated lightning, but we don’t have access to the point of origin yet. It’s still too dangerous.”

  One of the aides walked over with his BlackBerry out. He showed the governor something on the screen, then the two of them stepped away.

  The commander got up as though done, but Rod continued asking questions. “You said the land at the point of origin was uninhabited, but someone must own it. Have they been questioned?”

  “It’s part of a nature preserve that runs all the way from the top of the mountain and then down through the valley. Almost all the land north of Highway 55 is part of it.”

  I started to ask about Green Seed and the preserve, but managed to stop myself before I ruined Rod’s interview.

  “What about campers or hikers who were trespassing?” Rod said.

  “Careless campfires are a common cause of wildland fires, but we have no evidence to support that at this point.” The commander looked at Rod. “And there are no signs of human intrusion on the aerial photographs taken by the marijuana patrols.”

  We’d done several stories about Mexican drug cartels using uninhabited land to grow pot. If they’d started the fire, it would be a huge story. Rod kept his voice neutral. “Have they found any evidence of other marijuana farms in the area?”

  “No,” the commander said. “There’s nothing but normal vegetation and trees on the photos. No sign that anyone was using the land at all.”

  The governor returned. He removed the mic himself and offered his polite good-byes. He made a point of telling Rod he’d be e-mailing the phone number of someone Rod could speak to about his issue.

  After the governor and his entourage departed, I walked up to where the information officer and incident commander were standing. “Is it all right if I shoot some B-roll of the room? Just some generic shots of people working?”

  The incident commander nodded. “As long as you don’t get in anyone’s way.”

  I set up my sticks. Rod came and stood next to me and went over his notes. I was rolling on a wide shot when I heard Byrdie Fitzgerald. Her high-heel shoes made a loud crack with each determined step she took across the basketball court.

  The incident commander saw her coming too. Was that a frown I saw on his face? If so, he recovered immediately. He actually stepped forward to meet her. Instinct made me turn the camera and tighten my shot on them.

  Despite the rough conditions at headquarters and the late hour, Byrdie Fitzgerald looked impeccable. Her dark purple suit may have collected some stray bits of ash, but her hair and makeup were perfect. She stopped immediately before the commander and information officer. “I have one question for you gentlemen.” She was smiling and her voice sounded sweet. “I want to know why you looked me straight in the eye and lied.”

  Before either of them could say anything she continued, “You promised me you’d protect Tilly Heights, and now I discover you’re devoting resources to protecting empty land where nobody lives.” Her voice stayed pleasant, despite the harshness of the words.

  That may be why the incident commander didn’t get angry. “Of course the preservation of human life is everyone’s top priority.”

  “Is it?” She tilted her head slightly. “Then why are you protecting a lizard instead of people?”

  Rod cleared his throat. “I think that’s a question we’re going to want answered too.”

  The IO turned. We were only ten feet away with a camera pointed at them. Let’s just say, he didn’t look happy. “Are you recording?”

  I nodded.

  “Please, stop.”

  I reached over and pressed stop. “Okay.” The school campus was private property and I couldn’t record without permission.

  Byrdie Fitzgerald leaned toward us while squinting her eyes. All at once she pulled back, smiling. “Are you Rod Strong?”

  “Yes.” Rod walked up to her. “Why do you think the incident commander lied to you?”

  The commander bristled. “I did not lie.”

  “Of course not.” The IO took charge. “Lilly and Rod, let’s go outside with Mayor Fitzgerald. We’re in the way here.”

  “Hold on,” the commander said. “Am I going to be called a liar on the news?”

  The IO looked at the commander. “Absolutely not. I promise that will not happen.”

  We all walked outside and stopped near the bike racks. Looking down the hill we had an amazing view of the campus. I’d only seen individual pieces of the operation at close range, but this was like seeing a living map. There was movement everywhere as people and vehicles came, went, or just traveled from one task to another. Color popped in unexpected places, such as the blue of the Porta Potties and the giant green bladders that held water for the laundry and shower trailers.

  “Rod Strong,” Byrdie said. “I can’t believe this. I’m such a big fan.”

  Rod flushed. “Thank you. Why don’t you explain what this is all about?”

  The IO jumped in. “The mayor has been pressing her concerns that we don’t waste manpower thinning and back-burning on the mostly unpopulated lands on the other side of the mountain.” The IO, usually the picture of diplomacy, was having a hard time hiding his dislike of Byrdie Fitzgerald. “And we agree with her. Our priorities are Tilly Heights on this side of the mountain, and the antennas on the mountain ridge.”

  “I wish that were true.” Byrdie continued to smile. “But I’ve discove
red you’ve got at least three crews on the western end of the nature preserve. . . .” She leaned toward the IO. “Which is on the other side of the mountain. You’re protecting a lizard.”

  “They’re protecting human beings.” The IO turned to Rod. “You probably saw a clip of a girl refusing to evacuate. It’s been all over television and the Internet tonight.” The IO took a breath and tried to regain his professional calm. “I assure you, everything humanly possible is being done to protect the residents of this community and not the endangered lizard.”

  “It was never endangered.” Byrdie’s sweet facade finally cracked. “We can’t get rid of them. You can’t have a picnic around here without the blanket landing on one.”

  “And it’s a salamander,” Rod said. “Not a lizard.”

  The IO looked ready to pull his hair out. “The point is, we’re not diverting resources to protect the nature preserve.”

  “Prove it,” I said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I want my ride-along.”

  The IO stared at me. No one spoke or moved. Below us a tanker truck made the turn onto the back side of campus. Farther away, a group of firefighters tossed a Frisbee to one another while waiting to use the showers.

  Finally, the IO laughed.

  “You owe it to me.” I set down my gear. “And this is a great opportunity to show us exactly what you’re doing on the other side of the mountain. We can see with our own eyes that no one misled Mayor Fitzgerald.”

  His laughter receded. “You know what, if that’s all it takes to make this go away, then I will arrange for Firefighter Bell to take you on a ride-along. I’ll tell her to give you full access to anywhere and anyone you want.” The IO turned to Byrdie Fitzgerald. “And you’re welcome to come look at the work that’s being done to protect Tilly Heights.”

  “Thank you.” Byrdie Fitzgerald’s perky smile returned. “I’d love that.”

  Rod took an excited step forward. “We’d also like permission to go live from the top of the mountain.”

  “But there’s no Internet up there,” I said. “We can’t do any kind of live shot.”

  “Trust me,” Rod said.

  The IO considered for a moment, then nodded. “As long as you broadcast from a specific place that we all agree on, and you evacuate when you’re told.”

  “Agreed,” Rod and I said in unison.

  I took the IO aside, mostly so Byrdie Fitzgerald wouldn’t hear, and told him I had specific people I wanted to interview on my ride-along. He quickly agreed to my visiting Bonny Hazel, but was uncertain about Jessica’s brother, Brad Egan. He might be difficult to locate or it might not be safe.

  The IO left to coordinate with Bell, and I rejoined Rod and Byrdie.

  “I can’t believe Rod Strong has come out of retirement. What an honor for our community.” Byrdie had a moment of inspiration. “Would you like to interview me? I can talk about how everyone is pulling together.”

  I answered before Rod. “I’d like you to talk about Jessica Egan.”

  Rod turned and tried to discreetly say, “You promised to be nice.”

  “No, I didn’t. I promised not to be rude. There’s a difference.”

  Rod looked back at Byrdie. “I don’t know if you’ve spoken with your husband, but we saw him earlier tonight and I’m deeply sorry for anything inappropriate that might have been said.”

  “I did speak with him, and it’s okay.” She looked at me. “Lee said you used to know Jessica. I’m glad someone else cares about her death. I was beginning to feel like the only one. You know they were going to leave her body in the water indefinitely?”

  “I understand using your influence to have her body found.” Thanks to those heels she wore, I actually had to look up to make eye contact. “But why didn’t you force an investigation? You must have known about her bad shoulder.”

  She shrugged. “I assumed it had been repaired.”

  “Do you know for sure?”

  She spread her arms. “I really don’t know anything about Jessica anymore, for sure. Outside of a few conversations in the store this past year, we haven’t seen her in almost thirteen years.”

  Rod’s cell phone rang. He looked at the screen. “It’s Callum. I should take this.” He looked at me. The unspoken question hung in the air.

  “Don’t worry. I promise to be nice.” But as soon as he’d stepped away, I said, “I’m no good at sugarcoating things, so—”

  “You want my alibi?” She giggled sweetly. “My husband told me you were asking. If it gives you peace of mind, then I’m happy to oblige.”

  She got out a pen and piece of paper and began writing something down. “I was at city hall all day and all night, except for a brief dinner break from six to seven. I drove home, let Jessica into the house, and then drove back in time for a seven-o’clock meeting with city council.” Despite the subject matter, she still sounded chipper.

  She handed me the paper. It had her address on it. “We live on the far north end of Tilly Heights so it takes about twenty-five minutes. Feel free to check the distance online.”

  Byrdie could have murdered Jessica in the ten minutes she was home, but towing the body and boat out to Road’s End would have taken at least half an hour. More if she’d had to change her clothes and clean up afterward.

  I looked down at the paper and then back up to her. “I’m sorry if I’ve been rude. I’m only pushing so hard because I feel like I owe it to Jessica.”

  “You don’t have to explain. Her death has been difficult for me too.”

  “Do you mind telling me what she was like during those ten minutes you saw her? Did she talk about meeting anyone?”

  Byrdie shook her head. “Mostly she was upset about the fire.”

  I thought for a moment. “Did the police search her belongings, check her messages—that sort of thing?”

  “The police are confident that this was an accident.”

  I took that to mean they hadn’t done anything. Hopefully the police would go back and rectify that once I told them about the man at Road’s End. “At least tell me Jessica’s things are secure.”

  She nodded. “Lee moved her car into our garage to get it off the street, and I think he said there’s a suitcase and purse inside. Her father is supposed to come get everything once the fire passes.”

  Rod waved at me to indicate he was wrapping up his call with Callum.

  I nodded and looked back at Byrdie. “Thanks for talking with me. I really am sorry if I was rude.”

  She stopped me as I reached down for my gear. “If you want to, there is something you could do for me.”

  I felt an instinctive apprehension. “What’s that?”

  She looked behind me and I followed her gaze to Rod. “It would be a big political boost if someone with a high profile interviewed me.” Byrdie smiled, but it looked much shyer than the plastic one she usually wore. “Maybe you could put in a good word for me with Rod?”

  “The mayor of a small town like Elizabeth shouldn’t need a political boost.” Then again, she wasn’t dressed or acting like the mayor of a small town. “Do you have larger aspirations?”

  “I’m running for county board of supervisors next year.”

  TWELVE

  Friday, 3:10 a.m.

  We were interrupted by an official from Cal Fire who came out of the gym. “Mayor, I’m glad I caught you.” He rushed up to Byrdie. “Before you go home, I need you to sign off on the city staffing plan.”

  He drew her back into the gym, just as Rod returned.

  “Callum loves us.” Rod tried to pick up my sticks, but I got to them first. “When I told him we had access to the other side of the mountain, he flipped out. He wants us to hurry, though.” Rod had a sudden thought. “Unless you need to see a doctor about your head. He said not to take any chances.”

  “I’m pretty sure he didn’t say that, but thank you for lying about it.” I picked up the camera and gear bag. “Don’t wor
ry, though. I’m fine.”

  He stepped close to me. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “Yes, but we need to talk.”

  “Let’s talk on our way back to the truck.” Rod started down the path. “Callum wants us live at four instead of four thirty.”

  I followed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go anywhere until Bud gets here.”

  “Bud, as in your uncle Bud?” After I nodded, Rod continued, “What on earth is he doing in Elizabeth, let alone Command Headquarters?”

  “I have a confession to make.”

  Rod reached the bottom of the hill and paused. “Is this about how you almost drowned?”

  I quickly told him the whole story while we walked down a small road toward the baseball field. When I got to the part about the man at Road’s End, he abruptly stopped. It took me several steps to realize.

  I turned around and went back. “I think the man was going to leave the alcohol so when the police finally did check the island, it would look like Jessica came out there to drink.”

  He took hold of my arms. It wasn’t easy because I was carrying all my gear. “Lilly, I want you to drop this.”

  I stepped back. “What?”

  “You could have been killed.”

  “But if someone was planting evidence, then that proves Jessica was murdered. I can’t drop it now.” I waited for a forklift to pass us on the road and then started walking again.

  Rod followed. “Did you see his face?”

  “No. He was strong, and trim, I guess.” I shook my head. “But it definitely wasn’t Fitzgerald. He’s got a gut.” I paused. “Why aren’t you madder at me?”

  “I’m grateful you’re safe.”

  “I ran off without you and did something impulsive and almost got killed. You should be mad.”

  He smiled. “It’s not exactly a shock to me that you’re impulsive.”

  “Okay, but why aren’t you madder at me?”

  “Because I have something to tell you.”

  We had to stop so a tanker truck could navigate the turn onto the track field. While we waited, I remembered what Rod had said to the IO. As soon as the noise from the truck receded, I said, “Why did you say we could go live from the top of the mountain?”