by Mina Khan
The man's slim shoulders shook as if he were laughing at her. He leaned back and folded his arms.
Lynn blinked as a portly man emerged from the restaurant and blocked her view. Breathing easier, she angled her head this way and that to see around him.
The light changed and Hernandez rushed forward. Lynn pulled her attention away long enough to cross with him. As soon as they stepped onto the curb, Lynn tried to relocate the vagrant, but he’d disappeared.
She found herself surrounded by people. Several of them shook hands with the editor and said hello. Lynn pushed through the crowd and looked up and down Chadbourne. Adrenaline zipped through her as she caught the tail-end of a fluttering black coat turning the corner. She glanced back at Hernandez, then at the corner again.
Should she chase the homeless guy? She still had to get information from the newspaper man. Besides, what would she do even if she did catch the stranger? Ignoring the nervous knot in her gut, Lynn turned. Now Hernandez had disappeared.
Hoping he’d entered Fuentes, she plunged through the door.
He stood in the lobby, laughing and talking to a group of people. Lynn breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t noticed her odd behavior. The restaurant owner led them to a booth at the back and left them with some chips and salsa.
After they settled in, Hernandez locked gazes with her. “You’re a good writer, Alexander.”
“Thanks.” She slipped her shoes off under the table and almost groaned in relief. “You mentioned something about a deal?”
He drummed his fingers on the glass tabletop and jogged a leg in place. She wanted to put him in a straitjacket.
“You want a job?”
Lynn stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“A job. You’re a good writer, who’s out of work, and we’re short staffed. So, how about it?”
She leaned back into the vinyl cushion, massaging one foot with the other. “I’m just visiting a friend here and happened to be at that fire. I don’t know how long I’m staying.”
Hernandez picked up the fork beside his plate and tap-tapped it on the table. “Why don’t you freelance for us while you’re here?” he said. “We could use good copy and we’d pay you per story. Nothing exorbitant, but decent.”
Lynn almost kissed the guy. What a perfect cover for her to investigate the fires and ask questions. While she wasn’t hurting for money thanks to Obaa-chan, extra cash would still be nice. But she didn’t want to appear over-eager. “I don’t know what to say.”
“A thank you would do,” he said. “Look at it this way, you’ll get to try this out and you’ll be free to leave whenever.” He reached over and snatched a package of crackers from the small container on the table.
“True.”
“It’ll be a nice entry on your resume.” He tap-tap-tapped the table with the packet.
Lynn leaned forward. “What kind of stories do you want?”
A waiter came by and took their order. Hernandez greeted him as Paul and asked about his studies and his family. After Paul left, he leaned back against the booth, the crackers still in hand.
“We’ve wanted to cover Paradise Valley better for a long while,” he said. “So anything important that’s happening in that community would be good.”
“I can do that.” She paused for a heartbeat. “Can I also do fire stories? Maybe an investigative piece? See if there’s anything to link all the incidents together.”
He stilled and narrowed his eyes at her. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“Just a gut feeling I’ve got.”
He set the package of crumbled crackers down and raked a hand through his hair. “I have great respect for women’s intuition, but news stories can’t be based on that.”
Lynn folded her arms across her chest. Too bad she couldn’t tell him about her dragon instincts. Hollowness bloomed in her stomach. Could she trust her dragon? It’d been acting off-balance and erratic lately. “Fine, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “Intuition, like rumor and gossip, is a great springboard for stories.”
“There’s no smoke without fire.”
“Exactly. You first come up with an idea, and then you search for facts to either support or refute it.”
“So, if I think these fires are a series of arsons, I need to get hold of facts next,” she said. “Maybe I should interview the arson investigator.”
Hernandez beamed at her. “You do have to interview him, but not just yet.” Instead he told her to do some online research about arson and serial arsonists. He also told her to talk to area fire chiefs, the Sheriff’s department, and law enforcement professors at the local university.
“If you go in with some knowledge, you’ll be able to ask pertinent questions,” he said. “Then Anderson will talk to you rather than talk down to you. That makes a difference.”
Her respect for the man shot up by leaps and bounds. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”
The editor cleared his throat. “Does this mean you’ve accepted my offer?”
She grinned. “You have a deal.”
They shook on it. “And thanks for this opportunity.”
The waiter placed a sizzling plate brimming with fajitas, pepper and onion in front of her. The savory steam made Lynn’s stomach beg for a taste. She took a warm tortilla and placed some meat and vegetables on it.
“By the way,” he said, cutting into his cheese enchiladas, “did you know one of the most infamous serial arsonists in America was an arson investigator? John Orr.”
Lynn stopped folding the tortilla. “You really are a fount of knowledge.”
“Don’t you forget that, Alexander,” he said. “So you met the enigmatic Jack Callaghan. He was quite the hero in your story.”
She swallowed her bite and shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d call him enigmatic.”
Hernandez shot her sharp look. “Well, you certainly seem to have a seen a different side to him, but he can be rather closemouthed. Callaghan’s got this love-hate relationship with the area.”
Lynn managed a smile. “Jack is some sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?”
“Goes back ages,” the editor said. After downing a bite, he continued, “The story is his great-great-grandfather owned a hardware-dry goods store here. Then his great-grandfather added a grocery to it. Partnered with some Mexicans and Chinese in the area to supply vegetables and set up a meat counter. He sold everything from milk and beer to nails and barbed wire.”
Lynn tasted a forkful of smoky re-fried beans. “Interesting, but where’s the juicy bits?”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “When the region suffered a drought, farming and ranching went into a decline. People kept buying staples from the Callaghans, but mostly on an IOU basis.”
Hernandez shoveled in another bite of enchilada. Lynn drummed her fingers on the table.
“After a while Mr. Callaghan called in the loans and took over people’s lands. In other cases, he bought land but at dirt cheap prices. Anyway, he set up the Callaghan Ranch and became the largest landowner in the area.”
“That’s quite a story.” Lynn gulped some water. According to her grandmother, sometimes dragon characteristics leached into human personality. Characteristics like greed and hoarding.
Hernandez shrugged his bullish shoulders. “It rubbed people the wrong way. To make matters worse, oil was discovered on different parts of the ranch in the early 1900s. Made the Callaghans richer.”
Lynn balled her hands into fists as he took a hefty swallow of ice tea.
“The next two generations of Callaghans didn’t help. Jack’s grandfather built up a reputation for drinking, gambling and romancing other men’s wives. His father ran unsuccessfully for political office, spent freely and spouted history and philosophy.”
Characteristics like taking risks, over-indulging, and, even, bookishness. Of course, all these flaws also appeared in ordinary humans to a lesser degree.
/> A picture of Jack with his black eye flashed through her mind. Characteristics like temper and aggressiveness. She recalled the townspeople’s cold reception at the parts store. “Don’t tell me they hold a grudge against Jack because of the rest of the Callaghans.”
The editor grabbed a chip and dunked it into the salsa. “People have long memories here, and a lot of them don’t look beyond the fact that he’s a Callaghan.”
Before she could prod more, the waiter brought the ticket to the table.
Lynn winced as she forced her feet back into her shoes. He paid with an expense card and added a hefty tip for Paul.
Stepping into the sun again, Lynn glanced around but didn’t see the vagrant. Hernandez set off at a trot, and she hurried to keep up with him.
“Welcome to the Herald,” he said. “You can start with the county commissioner’s meeting tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? On a Saturday?” Lynn stumbled.
“Yup, that was the only day all the commissioners could meet. Our commissioners are real dedicated, especially around election time,” he ended with a wink.
Lynn managed to nod and wobble along. Nothing like being thrown into the river to learn to swim. Holy Freaking Wasabi.
Jack’s name had popped up too many times for comfort. Lynn paced in her room, worrying a furrow into the carpet as she contemplated her next move.
Check out Jack’s house. Without Jen. Sneaking around was risky business and she didn’t want to get her friend in trouble.
She chewed her lower lip. Also, the way Jen had been gushing about Jack told her she might not be open to the idea of him being a suspect. Was she really not interested in the man?
Lynn’s unease multiplied as the hunky firefighter came to mind. She rubbed her temples. Truth be told, Jack had been nothing but nice —tempting— since they’d met and she felt like shit for suspecting him. However, she couldn’t ignore the jack-booted march of goose bumps along her skin. Maybe she’d find some kind of proof or clue that would settle the matter once and for all.
She changed into her running clothes and shoes, then slipped on her backpack, before hurrying to the kitchen.
Jen stood at the table picking up their dinner dishes. “Where are you off to?”
“A run.” She took her plate to the sink. “Do you have a water bottle I can borrow?”
“You just ate. Don’t you want to rest?”
Lynn rolled her shoulders. “No, a run should help work off some of the calories.”
Jen shook her head and turned back to the dishes. “There’s bottled water in the fridge.”
She grabbed one and slipped it into the backpack. “Want to join me?”
“Eew, no.” Jen scrunched up her face. “I’m allergic to exercise. Just get home before dark.”
Lynn waved and ran out the back door, smiling about Jen’s reaction. Some things never changed. Thank goodness. She did a few jumping jacks and stretches, then jogged toward Jack’s place. The rural road didn’t come with sidewalks, but fortunately there was little traffic. She ran along the bar ditch, checking out the new environment. The sweet smell of hay laced her every breath and the chirping of birds accompanied her pounding feet. Lynn relaxed as she slid into the familiar rhythm of the run.
Waves of anger reached out to her as she neared the Callaghan ranch. While the exercise hadn’t winded her, the raw emotion did. She stood, panting, and scanned the overgrown pasture between the rough road and Jack’s house. Her glance danced over thorny bushes and cacti peeking out from the overgrown grass, then the clumps of trees dotting the landscape. If she cut through the pasture she’d have to watch her step, but she’d definitely be less exposed.
Crouching, she pushed her way through, zeroing in on the house. She ignored the poke and prickle of the underbrush and focused on the feelings suffusing the atmosphere. Underneath the anger she caught the lingering odor of dragon musk. Shoving away the dread thickening inside her, she zig-zagged from one cluster of trees to the next.
Not seeing anybody, Lynn inched closer to the tree-shaded alcove by Jack’s front door where she’d previously sensed the hidden presence. She ducked behind the thicket of leaves and branches, ready to battle whoever or whatever.
Emptiness greeted her. Her breathing eased, as she bent and searched the ground. Scuff marks in the dirt obliterated whatever footprints there’d been. A bit of white in the leafy ground cover under the window caught her eye. Using her left foot, she toed leaves out of the way. Someone had kicked several cigarette butts into the bushes.
Shit. A cigarette had caused the fire at Jen’s.
Lynn rummaged through her backpack until she found the pack of tissues inside. The plastic crinkled loudly as she pulled a fresh one out. Damn, she was as loud as a dragon in a china shop. She squatted and gingerly picked a few of the cigarettes up with the tissue, brought it close to her nose. Stale odor of smoke, fading anger and dragon musk.
Slipping the tissue-wrapped clue into her backpack, she zipped it and listened. Nothing but a piping bird song drifted to her. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded herself and exited her hiding spot. Her mind urged her to get back to Jen’s, but curiosity pushed her to explore. To come all this way and not at least peek into the house would be a shame.
After a quick glance around, Lynn hurried up the steps onto the porch and peered inside through the beveled glass and wrought iron decorating the top half of the door. All she could see was a hat rack/bench and a polished wood floor disappearing into the dark heart of the house. The interior seemed empty. Just to be sure, Lynn reached up and rang the doorbell. The muted sound of deep, church-bells floated to her. She shifted foot to foot and waited.
Licking her lips, Lynn tried the door handle. Locked tight. She stood, hands on her hips, and stared at the solid wood. Maybe there’d be a backdoor. Maybe it’d be unlocked. And maybe she was the queen of Thebes. Oh well, no harm in checking it out. She bounded down the steps and headed toward the back of the house.
Loud crashing through the bushes startled her. The snap of branches grew more frenzied. Dragon? No, a dragon wouldn’t be running around so openly. Would it? What else could it be? In the wilds of West Texas? Anything. Feral hog. Cougar pack. Mutant skunk. Oh God, please don’t let it be a skunk.
Growls thrummed in the air as the thrashing and snorting came nearer. She backed up a few steps before stopping herself. Flashes of gold glistened in between the leaves. The branches immediately in front of her shivered and shook. Her muscles tightened and coiled, ready for action.
A large dog burst through the thicket and pounced on her.
A dog. Just a dog. Lynn screamed as she landed on her back in the dirt, with her arms full of the hairy, slobbering creature.
The clatter of horse hooves pounded the earth and stopped inches from her. Defending herself from hot, wet kisses, Lynn looked up at two cowboys on horseback silhouetted by the sun.
“Cannon!”
The sharp command cut through the air and froze the tussling pair for a moment. The dog whined and looked over its shoulder as Lynn squinted at the shadowy figures, trying to place the voice. With a wag of his tail, the dog returned to licking her face with renewed enthusiasm.
Muttered curses buzzed in the air as one of the cowboys swung off his horse and hauled the dog off her. Jack.
“Come on, Cannon.” Jack said, pushing the dog into a sitting position. “Sit, boy!”
Once Cannon had settled down, Jack squatted next to the dog and looked at her. “You okay?”
Caught in his piercing green gaze, Lynn found herself at a loss for words. He bent over her, close enough for her to see the gold flecks floating in his eyes. Before she could nod, the other man peered over Jack’s shoulder and glared at her like she was a bug lying in the dust. “This is private property, yer trespassin’.”
Jack’s shoulders stiffened. “She’s a friend.” He flashed a wry smile. “You’ve already met Cannon, so named for his tendency to cannon through everything and everyone.�
� Then he gestured at the other man. “This is Sam White, my sister’s ranch foreman. And Sam, this is Lynn Alexander, Jen Delgado’s friend.”
White grunted and held onto his scowl. “She’s still a stranger and got no business skulking around.”
Heat warmed her face and her gaze dropped as fast as a sinking stone.
“Head on back to the barn Sam, and take Sundance with you.” Jack didn’t bother to turn to look at the man. “There should be some wire stored in the back. I’ll be out there in a little while.”
White spat into the dust and grabbed the reins of Jack’s horse. “Damn fool!”
Lynn wasn’t sure whether the label applied to her or Jack. She watched the manager stomp off, cursing loudly about strangers traipsing around and causing trouble. Soon he disappeared into the distance in a drum of hoof beats. Cannon wheeled and galloped off behind them.
“Sorry about that,” Jack said. “Somebody’s been cutting the fencing between the ranch and my fields so Sam’s kinda prickly.”
She nodded. He studied her back quietly, his face empty of expression. “So, what brings you out here?”
Her tongue refused to work.
“What? You missed me already and had to visit?”
She looked up and caught the smile shadowing his lips. “No. I was out for a run and decided to take the scenic route.”
“I’m glad you appreciate the view.” The smile spread to a lazy grin.
She flushed. “I meant the countryside.”
“Of course.” He took off his hat and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “Then you saw my place and couldn’t resist another meeting.”
She matched his smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“So, back to my original question.” He settled his hat back on his head. “What are you doing here?”
Lynn found herself flushing again, along with a strange sensation bubbling inside her. When did she turn into a lava lamp? “Actually, I got turned around and was hoping to get some directions.”
“Well, darlin’ helping damsels in distress is my specialty.”
The accompanying wink set off hot sparks inside her. Maybe her mom was right— maybe she and her dragon were off-kilter. She’d been around plenty of men before, and never felt so wired.
