Wildfire: A Paranormal Mystery with Cowboys & Dragons

by Mina Khan

  Lynn grabbed her cell and called Jen. “Are you back home or still in town?”

  “I’m at the museum for the exhibit opening. Waiting on you.”

  “Meet me in front of the hospital ER and hurry.” Relief flooded Lynn. Jen was in San Angelo.”

  The sight of Jen’s station wagon, parked curbside near the ER entrance, untangled the tension balled up in Lynn’s chest. Her friend must’ve hauled ass. She parked right behind, hopped out and ran to the passenger’s side.

  Jen sprinted over and glanced in at Jack through the window. “What happened?”

  “Long story short: Henry and Jack got into a fight, he got hurt and I think he probably should be checked out by a doctor.” Lynn ran a hand through her hair. “You need to take him in.”

  Hand on hips, Jen cocked her head to one side and looked her over. “Wait, I think you left a few important details out. Why can’t you take Jack to the ER? And when did you decide on an outfit change?”

  The man in question groaned softly and shifted in his seat. Lynn cursed and whipped around then back again. “I can’t because he saw me turn dragon, and I’m afraid if he comes to and sees me, he’ll freak.” She kicked a pebble lying next to her foot and sent it flying. “I’d rather avoid a public scene.”

  “Ah,” Jen said as she opened the door and reached for Jack. “You owe me girl. Damn he’s heavy. You grab the legs.”

  “I have a better idea,” Lynn said. “Why don’t you run in and ask for a wheel chair or a stretcher or something.”

  Lynn stood by the open car door, praying that Jack wouldn’t come around too soon. Within minutes, orderlies rushed out wheeling a gurney at high speed. Jen led them to the Mustang and Lynn stepped back and out of the way. As they wheeled Jack off, Jen grabbed her. “Come on, you can sit in the waiting room.”

  Lynn was half-way through her third Styrofoam cup of coffee, when Jen came out of the swinging doors that hid most of the ER busy work. She leapt up, spilling some of the tepid coffee on herself, and ran to her friend. “How is he?”

  “Well, he’s awake and they’re running some tests on him just to make sure everything is all right.” Jen slumped into a chair.

  Lynn sat down next to her. “Um, did he mention anything about dragons?”

  Jen shook her head. “Seems like he’s got temporary amnesia. Both he and the doc bought my story about finding him injured next to the road.” She bit her lip. “Of course, the doc also kidded him about brawling. Some of the injuries indicated something like that.”

  “What about the bleeding?”

  “That’s a superficial cut he got when his head hit something sharp,” Jen said. “Like a rock.”

  Or a rough-edged parking bump. “Shit.” Lynn finished her coffee and shot her empty cup into the wastebasket. “Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. What was he even doing there?”

  Jen rolled her head side to side. “That I know,” she said. “He came by looking for you within minutes of your leaving. Said he really needed to talk to you.” She stopped and rubbed her chin, remembering. “When I mentioned that you’d gone to meet Henry at Jim Bob’s Bar, his face darkened and he almost growled at me before stomping off.”

  Lynn stared at Jen “You made that last bit up.”

  “No way Jose.” Jen straightened herself and leaned forward. “I’ve never seen Jack so worked up.”

  “Wait, how did you know I’d be at Jim Bob’s?”

  “There’s only one place on Lake Nasworthy,” Jen said. “Now, what really happened tonight?”

  A shudder threaded through Lynn. How would she explain mind control to Jen when she didn’t quite grasp it herself? “Henry slipped something into my drinks. I don’t know what, but I felt like crap.”

  Jen shot out of her chair. “The asshole drugged you? Madre de Dios.”

  Lynn twisted her hands in her lap. “And I forgot one of the basic safety rules: don’t let strangers near your drink.”

  Jen crouched in front of her and placed a hand on her knees. “Are you okay? Did that asshole hurt you?”

  “No. Yes.” Fear cracked her voice. Lynn grasped her head in her hands. “It-it wasn’t just the drugs, there was something else. I mean the drug disoriented me until I couldn’t tell my left from my right, but it was like something alive and evil had entered my head and got a chokehold on my thoughts, my will.” She hugged herself, remembering the awful cold, the slippery feel of alien thoughts and desires, the frozen helplessness. Had he really invaded her? Or was she suffering the effects of the drug and the power of suggestion? Bile pushed up her throat again and she gagged.

  Jen jumped into the seat next to her and hugged her tight. “Do you need to see the doctor too?”

  Lynn shook her head. “No, I’m all right. The dragon managed to fight him off in the end.”

  “Is he the rogue dragon? Is he the one setting the fires?”

  A long breath whooshed out of her. “I think so,” she said. “Henry talked like the guy who called about the Tavistock fire, so I’m pretty sure he’s the one setting the fires.”

  “But?”

  “But, the last one was technically set by Elsie. It sounds far-fetched to say he controlled her, but I believe he did.” Like she’d believed there’d been another dragon with her grandmother and herself. Could she get anyone else to believe her this time? “Henry called himself the dragon master. I don’t know what that means,” Lynn slumped in the chair. “Whatever he is —plain crazy or mind-control freak— it’s damn scary.”

  Jen squeezed her hand. “So what do we do now?”

  Lynn shrugged. “Depends. Are the doctors leaning toward keeping Jack here under observation?”

  “No, they definitely made noises about sending him home as long as there was a friend to watch over him,” Jen said. “I volunteered.”

  Lynn smiled. “Thanks. I know he’d appreciate it and I think it’s important for at least one of us to be there when he remembers and freaks.”

  “Well, I’ll try and calm him down for you, but you need to do the explaining,” Jen skewered her with a firm gaze. “I saw that hot kiss you both shared at the Tavistock fire.”

  Heat suffused her neck and face, as Lynn shifted her gaze to a pretty pastel of a fishing scene. “Let’s not go there. I can’t risk being disappointed and hurt again.” She sighed. “I just need to accept I’m meant to be alone.”

  Jen reared up in her seat. “Don’t even think like that. You deserve happiness.”

  Memory of Jack trying to get away from her rose up like a specter. “Well, I think my priority should be figuring out Henry.” She stood. “I’m going to the paper to do some research. Then I’ll come to Jack’s and take over the watch.”

  Jen’s face paled. “I don’t know if you should be running around on your own tonight.” She rubbed her arms. “Henry’s still out there.”

  The image of Henry running into the woods chased through her mind. “I think I scared him bad enough that he won’t come after me tonight.” Lynn unclenched her jaw. “But yes, he’s still out there and I’m scared.” She folded her hands under her breasts and planted her feet firmly on the ground. “I don’t like being scared.”

  Chapter 22

  A caravan of vehicles, spewing exhaust into the chilly night, greeted Lynn in the back parking lot of the San Angelo Herald. Distributors waiting to pick up bundles of newspapers for delivery. She glanced at the clock. 11:45 p.m. The paper probably wouldn’t be ready for another hour or so. Glancing at the crowd of men and women, Lynn relaxed and breathed easier. Henry wouldn’t dare make a second attempt here among all these people. Would he?

  Crazy people could do anything. She parked the mustang near the door, found the key she needed and exited. Her heels tattooed the pounding of her heart as she crossed the cement loading dock.

  Light and shadows danced over the dull steel door making it difficult to see the keyhole. Nerves made her fingers clumsy as she stabbed at the lock with her key. Open, open,
open.

  The feeling of being watched spider-crawled down her spine and tears threatened. On the third attempt, the key slid in. Lynn twisted and pulled the heavy metal door open, then slipped into a well-lit entryway. The door snicked shut behind her and she heaved out a breath. Safe.

  To her left a narrow flight of stairs led down to the basement press area. On the right lay a darkened corridor, the red glow from the overhead exit sign painted a faint pathway to the door at the far end. The Editorial department lay behind that door.

  Squaring her shoulders, Lynn forced herself forward one step at a time. The shimmering red reflection of the light spilled on the linoleum in front of her like a pool of blood. Another darkened corridor branched to the left. This one led to the circulation area, now shrouded in thick shadows. Goosebumps raced along her skin.

  Henry could be waiting in the dark, waiting to get her in his clutches again. Sweat beaded her upper lip as she stood rooted in anxiety, unable to move. She shivered. Did the air suddenly turn cooler?

  Stop it. No one could enter a locked building without a key. She grimaced. Yeah, just like dragons didn’t really exist. Shit. Pulling on sheer will power, Lynn rushed through the darkness in a mad sprint for the door. Panting, she jammed the key into the lock and twisted. How secure was it to have the same key for two doors? Stop thinking. She pushed through and groped blindly at the wall for the light switches. A gasp escaped her as her fingers encountered the tell-tale bumps, a quick flick upwards flooded the newsroom with cold white fluorescent light.

  Lynn stood and surveyed the room. Empty. She stumbled to her usual desk, fell into the chair with a sigh and grabbed the emergency Butterfingers she’d stashed in the left hand drawer. Her entire evening had been a series of emergencies. Ripping open the package, she bit into the chocolate. Sweetness flooded her mouth, soothed her senses. After a few chews, she breathed evenly again.

  Still munching on the bar, she pulled out Henry Chase’s card from her Paradise Valley Development folder and set it on the desk. Then she rolled over to the computer and logged on, clicking her way through cyber space. Time to run Henry’s name through the online research services the paper subscribed to and see what came up. Should have done this before the interview, she mentally slapped herself.

  She first tried the Bexar County system and couldn’t get anything beyond a current address in San Antonio and his birthday.

  Then armed with the birth date and name, Lynn tried the Harris County system. Bingo! The man had a record.

  She scrolled through the report. A couple of minor assaults, what appeared to be bar brawls, and then an arrest for arson. Lynn stopped breathing for a minute. The report didn’t have much beyond the legal details, such as date of arrest, date of arraignment, sentencing etc. She wanted details. A click on the print button and the printer shuddered and wheezed to life.

  Next Lynn tried LexisNexis, a subscribed program which allowed the paper to search news articles printed on specific topics. She typed in Henry Chase, arson, and Houston. She received five hits— articles printed in the Houston Chronicle about seven years ago.

  She read through them all. An electronics shop in Houston had gone up in flames at about midnight. By coincidence an off duty police officer had been driving around the area and saw the blaze and Henry Chase, the suspect, lurking in the area. The cop called the fire in and the police. Then he tackled Henry. Within minutes fire trucks and police cars were on the scene. The cop reported that Henry had seen him and tried to run.

  But the off-duty cop, who had been driving around aimlessly after a fight with his girlfriend, had apparently used all his pent up aggression on chasing Henry down and subduing him. Thank God for girlfriends.

  She continued reading. In the sentencing phase, Henry Chase had implicated the owner of the shop, one Ben Barton. Barton also happened to be Chase’s brother-in-law. Because of his testimony, Chase received a reduced sentence of one year. Barton received three years.

  Lynn searched some more to see if she could find anything else. When she didn’t, she printed out the most complete story in the selection. Then she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She recalled the Paradise Valley picnic where she’d mistaken Henry for Jack from behind. And she’d been way off course about Henry being just a nice guy.

  Hernandez’s voice echoed in her head: Do your homework. Yeah, now she needed to figure out who else might be involved. Next step would be to ferret out information from the county clerk’s office using the Freedom of Information Act. Lynn typed up an official FOIA letter requesting phone records and meeting minutes for the last six months. Then sent it to Hernandez for his approval. That done, she stuffed the print outs into her bag and hefted herself out of the chair.

  Lynn turned off the lights and pushed out the door, then dashed down the corridor and exited the building. The cool night air kissed her perspiring face. The dock now had a few heavily-muscled press guys loading stacks of papers as each vehicle moved up in line. She pulled in deep breaths of the chill air, wished them good night and climbed into her car.

  Jen had left the porch light on for her. Thank God. Even though the meager light shone like a lost boat in the night. A darkness filled with God knows what. Stop being a ninny. Her encounter with Henry had her jumping at shadows. Some dragon she was.

  Lynn squared her shoulders and stepped out of the car. She slammed the door behind her, as if the noise would send the fear skittering away. Nope, instead whispers and rustles filled the night. It was the wind, just the wind. Gripping her bag tighter, she ran for the door illuminated by the light. Shadows seemed to grow and move alongside her, keeping pace.

  Panting and puffing, she raised her hand to bang. Jack needed to be woken up regularly anyway. But the door swung open.

  “I heard the car door,” Jen said.

  Her hand dropped. “In the middle of the boonies, I’m sure you can hear every little noise.” Lynn pushed past her friend.

  The musk scent of a male dragon assaulted her nose— dark and dangerous, filled with the warm promise of sex. Dizzy, she braced herself against a cool adobe wall. The recent volatile change appeared to have left her hypersensitive. Her eyes scanned the darkened hallway, lit on the aged wood beam framing, a fire blazing in the hearth off to the left. She hadn’t seen this part of the house before. Nice for a dragon’s lair. She sucked in a breath. Yup, she stood in a freaking dragon’s lair. Jack had to be at least part dragon.

  Cannon, followed by Jen, trotted over and goosed her with his cold nose. Then he jumped up and licked her face.

  “Well, I feel safer knowing Cannon is here to lick all intruders to death,” Lynn said pushing the dog down.

  Jen laughed and led the way into the kitchen.

  Moss green walls and dark cherry cabinets greeted Lynn. She stumbled to the breakfast bar and perched on a stool. No fussy knick-knacks, or cute cookie jar in sight. Instead, sleek, shiny copper canisters, each neatly labeled, lined up like soldiers near the stove. A masculine kitchen, warm and inviting in a no-nonsense way. She could imagine Jack at the stove cooking up a spicy pot of chili. Wearing only a pair of faded jeans and apron with the legend Kiss The Cook. Erm, where’d that come from?

  Lynn dove into her backpack and searched for the article. She pulled the pages out and sorted them into a neat pile on the counter, ready for discussion. Then she folded her arms on the cool granite and rested her head on them. The mouth-watering aroma of coffee relaxed her. Her gaze drifted to the copper pots and pans hanging from an ornate pot holder overhead. The metal winked at her merrily in the kitchen light. Yup, the man liked shiny things as much as her. Great, she had a dragon and a mind-control freak to deal with.

  “Did you find anything useful?” Jen poured coffee into a mug and placed it in front of her.

  Lynn took a swig of coffee and shoved the papers to Jen. “Take a look for yourself.” Cupping her hands around the warm mug, she watched her friend speed read through the material.

  Finally, Je
n looked up. Her eyes sparkled. “This is great,” she said. “You’ve enough to give to Anderson so he’ll take a close look at Henry.”

  How tempting. She’d love to dump Henry into Anderson’s lap and let him be someone else’s problem. Yeah, a couple of million dollars would be nice too. After another sip of coffee, Lynn hung her head. “I can’t share this with Anderson.”

  “Why?”

  For a moment, the memory of Henry whispering in her mind, making her do things, feel things, burned like an unhealed wound. The niggling idea that she’d heard his voice before, long before, resurfaced. She had to be sure that Henry had nothing to do with Obaa-chan’s death. If he did, she was going to take care of him herself. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “He’s too dangerous,” she said. “Despite being a dragon, I had a hard time resisting him. I can’t let innocents get hurt.”

  “Shoot.” Jen gnawed on her thumb. “Wait, if he can do the mind control thing, why aren’t all the people just selling him the land as soon as he asks?”

  Lynn swallowed her coffee, and stared. “Good question, unfortunately I don’t know the answer.”

  “Didn’t Obaa-chan communicate with you telepathically? Maybe it’s a dragon thing.”

  The notion prowled around her head. “Yes, dragons can talk to each other telepathically. We call it mindspeak, but this was different.” She shook her head. “Obaa-chan never tried to control me.”

  Jen downed her coffee in one gulp. “Yeah well, Obaa-chan also baked cookies and had a conscience.”

  Lynn grimaced in acknowledgement. Uneasiness stalked her. She was missing something, but what? “I don’t think he’s a dragon. I mean why didn’t he turn dragon on me?”

  “Your mom can’t turn dragon.” Jen shrugged. “Maybe he can’t either.”

  “Maybe.” Lynn tugged on her lower lip. “Too many damn maybes and questions. I can’t go to Anderson or Roberts without knowing more.” She sighed. “What’s bugging me is how I totally missed the ball with Henry. In fact, Jack came across as more of a dragon than he did.”