Jen approached. “Peyton, I have to talk to you.” She sent Kim a meaningful glance.
“I know why Peyton and Gabe went to Missoula, Jen.” Kim didn’t bother to hide the contempt in her voice.
Jen let her shoulders down, as if she couldn’t bear to wait on the news anymore, not even as long as it took to get rid of Kim. “What did you find out?”
Peyton waited for her to sit, then looked into Gabe’s ex’s exhausted eyes. Why did she feel compelled to help this woman? Because Gabe asked? Or just to stay close to him? Huh. She understood Kim more than she realized.
It wouldn’t do to examine motivation right now. “Once I saw the place, I realized it wouldn’t have been hard for someone at the base to frame Doug. Gabe doesn’t want to believe it’s a firefighter, but it’s got to be. No one else goes in the ready room, no one else would have access to Doug’s supplies.”
“But who?”
“That’s the thing. Gordon doesn’t think anyone has anything against Doug.”
“Gordon’s an idiot,” both women said together.
Peyton couldn’t stop a grin. “There’s that. But I’d hoped he’d have more information. Worse than Doug not having a motive is no one has a motive to hurt Doug.”
“Why is that worse?” Kim reached for a chunk of the cookie Peyton had abandoned.
“The FBI won’t consider another suspect if no one has a reason to set Doug up.”
“So now what?” Jen asked.
Peyton shook her head. “I wish I could talk to some of the other smokejumpers, but only Kim’s brother was there, and he told Gabe a whole different tale.”
Jen narrowed her eyes at Kim. “Kevin thinks Doug could have done this?”
“We aren’t all on the Doug bandwagon,” Kim retorted. “Some of us actually believe he did Gabe dirty.”
“That doesn’t mean he started the fire,” Peyton said. “Even Gabe doesn’t think he did.”
“Yeah, well, maybe Gabe’s trying to get back in Jen’s good graces.”
Ouch. That hurt more than it should, mostly because Peyton had considered it herself. “Or maybe he doesn’t want to see an innocent man go to prison,” she replied evenly. “Perhaps if I could talk to some other smokejumpers, get their take—”
“Everyone’s out on this fire,” Jen said, dejected.
“We could go to the point of origin,” Kim suggested.
Both women turned to her in surprise. “You know where it is?” Jen asked.
“I heard some firefighters talking about it. I could find it.”
Excitement fluttered in Peyton’s belly. She wished her photographer had gotten his clearance and could go with them. “When can we go?”
Jen appeared unconvinced. “I’m not sending just the two of you out. But I can’t spare anyone.”
“It isn’t a problem,” Kim said. “It’s the point of origin, it should be fuel-free. We’ll be fine.”
“That’s not true,” Jen argued. “It was undamaged enough to leave the drip torch and fibers behind. I don’t think it’s safe. Besides,” she told Peyton, “Gabe wanted you to wait for him.”
“We’ll be back before he is.” Peyton stood, adrenaline surging, glad to be able to do something. “Should we walk, or can we drive it?”
They’d deployed too late. Before he reached the site, Gabe could see the silver shelters fluttering open on the ground. What had gone wrong that they didn’t get in the shelters on time, or was the fire that hot? Had they let in some of the superheated air and suffocated?
The fire that had almost killed him and Peyton twice had killed these people. His friends. Jon, who’d been such an asshole when they’d been training, but who’d come through for Gabe more than once when he needed a favor. And Bev with that great dimpled smile, the disposition that held even on the longest days, the toughest fires.
He had to push the thoughts out of his mind or he couldn’t do this.
Over the scent of the truck’s exhaust, he could smell it, the indescribable scent of burned hair and flesh. Howard turned and vomited out the open window. Oh hell. He should have brought more seasoned people instead of people he was familiar with, should have considered their comfort instead of his.
At least Peyton wasn’t up here.
The first step was to assess what happened, then get out the body bags. He opened the door and got to work.
It was easy to see what had happened. The fire had left the trees, hit the open grass, and the rocky terrain had been too much for the firefighters. Worse, they’d deployed in the fuel. They should have known better. They must have panicked. Only one, a rookie, was mostly inside his shelter and had died from suffocation. Gabe supposed he was lucky.
Howard was still green when he helped Gabe wrap the rookie’s body, and Gabe determined he would use Ray or one of the others to get the bodies in worse condition.
And he would see to Bev, and not think it could have been Peyton.
He forced his thoughts to Doug, to who could have framed him. Yeah, he’d had a moment of doubt, but Doug wouldn’t do anything to endanger others. He’d be like Howard over there, puking his guts up.
The trip to Missoula convinced him that it was a firefighter, a smokejumper. He wanted to believe it was Gordon, but the son of a bitch didn’t have the courage, not that arson took much. Still, he had an alibi. Peyton said he’d been on a fire in California when the Bounty fire started.
That’s what they had to do, if they couldn’t talk to all the smokejumpers. Find out who’d been in the area when the fire started, and work from there.
It was good to have a plan.
But again and again he remembered Kevin O’Doul and his reaction to Doug. He hadn’t known anyone—aside from himself—to have such a strong reaction to the man. It could be jealousy the young man held for the veteran, but it was so—acid. It just sat wrong in Gabe’s stomach. He’d never been wrong when trusting his instincts.
But O’Doul had no more motive to set up Doug than anyone else. So who did?
He decided not to wait on the list. He pulled out his radio—his third this fire, not a good sign—and called Jen.
“What is it?”
Over the radio he could hear her exhaustion. “I want to know all the smokejumpers who were in Montana two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks ago? I don’t have time for this, Gabe.”
“It could help Doug.”
“You don’t think—”
“I didn’t want to think. But I know, Jen.”
She was silent a long time. “Bev? The others?”
“It’s bad. They deployed in grass. We’re bringing them home.”
She paused. “I’ll have the list ready for you.”
This was hell. The ground before them was gray ash, and Peyton kicked at it every few steps, looking for anything beneath that might catch fire. She’d seen Gabe do the same on the way down the mountain, trying to keep them out of another dangerous situation.
God, would she ever escape him, even a thousand miles away? Was she certain she wanted to?
She’d tied a bandana around her mouth and nose to keep the wind-whipped ash from her lungs, but it still burned her eyes so they teared constantly. She used another bandana to wipe the sweat from her face.
Though the threat of fire was minimal on the burned-out area, she and Kim wore full fire gear as a precaution. Gabe had trained them both to err on the side of caution. It was a hot, miserable hike to a place she wasn’t sure she could find.
“Did I tell you I’d like to be an arson investigator?” Kim asked conversationally.
“Really?” Peyton perked up, an idea for another story brewing. Both sides of the fire. Not exactly life threatening, but interesting. And, an idea for a story meant another day as a reporter. Another step toward commitment. “How would you go about doing something like that?”
“Well, I’m thinking about applying this winter. I have a degree in Fire Behavior, and I should have enough experience. I could still wo
rk for the Forest Service, and just consult with the FBI on suspected arson cases.”
“Seems tedious.”
Kim shot her a grin. “Like being a ground pounder isn’t?”
Peyton shuddered as she recalled the fire that chased them out of the scout camp. “Not in my experience.”
“It looks like the fire started here,” Kim said, traipsing through the ash on the mountain.
Peyton could see what she meant—the black spread in a fan up the mountain. The weird thing was that this area was so isolated, so remote, on Forest Service land. Who would come out here to start it? Maybe it had been a smokejumper.
“The FBI has already been here, right?” she asked.
Kim glanced over her shoulder. “They got the can, didn’t they?”
“I just don’t want to be messing up a crime scene.” Peyton watched Kim drag her feet through the ash. She hadn’t seen Kim walk that way before. “What are you doing? Making sure the fire is out?” She indicated Kim’s feet.
Kim’s face reddened a bit. “Yeah. You never know. And the FBI may have missed something.”
Peyton doubted it. She’d seen photos of arson crime scenes where the investigators had been on their hands and knees sifting through the ash. Had they done the same here? Or had they found the can and figured they had what they needed.
She stumbled over a burned clump of grass, and an object popped loose. Peyton crouched to lift a scrap of something manmade that had been blackened and bunched up against the roots.
A glove, asbestos, partially burned.
And way too small for Doug Sheridan.
Chapter Fourteen
Where the hell was Peyton? The bodies had been returned to camp and loaded on the waiting hearses to go to the morgue, where they’d be prepared for the journey home. They’d pulled away, but Gabe still hadn’t seen any sign of Peyton.
She’d promised to wait for him, and on the ride down, all he could think of was letting her take him into her arms, letting himself forget.
Instead, he went to the showers to wash the scent of death from him. He didn’t want even that to touch Peyton.
When he emerged, the camp was overrun with reporters. Maybe she’d run into someone she knew and was off catching up. Did she have reporter friends? Did that mean he’d have to make nice to them too? He made his way through them, but they didn’t give him a second glance. They were awaiting the president’s arrival. He’d almost forgotten. He saw Jen coming out of the command tent and picked up the pace.
“Jen, do you know—”
He stopped short when a tall, lean-faced, casually dressed man ducked out of the tent behind her. Several dark-suited men, out of place in this filthy camp, materialized between Gabe and the tall man, their expressions severe.
Through the wall of Secret Service agents he saw Jen roll her eyes. “He’s fine. He’s Gabe Cooper, crew boss of the Bear Claw Hot Shots.”
The president of the United States, Karl Hutchinson, studied him through narrowed eyes. “The man who saved those little girls from the camp.”
Gabe straightened in response, concern for Peyton temporarily forgotten. The man was taller than he appeared on TV, but just a regular guy. The unreality of meeting the man face to face, on his own turf, had him off balance, an uncommon experience. How did the president know about the camp, enough to relate his name to it?
He cleared his throat. “Yes sir, though, you know, I had my crew.”
The president inclined his head. “Still, it took a great deal of bravery. I’d like to shake your hand.”
The Secret Service wall parted infinitesimally so the president could reach through without Gabe causing injury. Gabe glanced at his perpetually dirty hand, rubbed it on his equally dirty fire pants and clasped the president’s hand. Despite himself, he felt a thrill at shaking hands with the most powerful man in the world. He was pleased to note it wasn’t a wimpy handshake, either. This man understood what hard work was. Gabe was glad he’d taken the time to vote for him.
“I’m sorry, sir, but how do you know me?”
Hutchinson grinned. “It wasn’t easy to recognize you without all the soot on your face, but you’re big news, son. All over the television.”
Gabe cast a look at Jen. “You’re kidding me.”
She shrugged.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen TV,” he explained to the president. “I guess it’s just as well, if I’m the best thing on it.”
Hutchinson laughed. “I admit, it’s not saying much, but it’s a good thing for the people of America to see the hard, dangerous work you do.”
“It’s hard even when it’s not dangerous.” Gabe took a step back, ready to be alone. “I apologize for intruding, sir. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Don’t rush off on my account,” the president said good-naturedly.
Startled by the invitation, Gabe damn near tripped over himself. “I’m…ah, I’m sure your time is very valuable, sir, and Jen here has a lot to show you.”
“Gabe just came back from the recovery of the dead firefighters,” Jen said, not aiding in his escape.
The president sobered, the corners of his long mouth turned down. “Ms. Sheridan mentioned how close the firefighting community can be. Were they friends of yours?”
Gabe nodded, not wanting to discuss this. “Two were, sir.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Thing was, he seemed sorry.
“I appreciate it.”
“Actually we were just getting ready to fly over the fire,” Hutchinson said. “Are you up to joining us? I’d like to get your take.”
Gabe looked back at Jen again, hoping she would send him off, any errand would do. Just what he needed, to toss his cookies all over the president of the United States.
“I think your insight will be very helpful to President Hutchinson,” Jen said with a touch of smugness.
Why did she hate him? Okay, so he hadn’t been thrilled about her pregnancy but that was no reason to send him up in an airplane, was it?
“Jen is much more qualified,” he hedged, taking a step back. “She’s incident commander, after all.”
“Don’t be modest.” The president broke through the Secret Service line to slap Gabe on the back, good ol’ boy to good ol’ boy. “Of course I want to hear what she has to say, but I’d also like the thoughts of a man who was in the thick of this monster so recently.”
Gabe could tell him just as easily on the ground, but instead of saying it, he offered a sickly grin. He didn’t want to be the first man to say no to the president.
“Be glad to.”
Jen fell in beside him as they started walking toward the jeeps waiting to take them to the airfield. Gabe hung back as the president’s entourage, including four Secret Service and two staff members, surrounded the man. Hell, they’d need Air Force One for all these people.
It would beat the hell out of Tony’s six-passenger Beechcraft.
“I hope I don’t throw up in his lap,” he told Jen.
“Wouldn’t bother me,” she replied, a smile curving her lips.
He slanted a look at her. “Geez, Jen. I know you don’t like the guy, but you wouldn’t bring me along to sabotage this?”
“I brought you along so I don’t sabotage it. Have you ever known me to keep my mouth shut? Especially when his environmental policies helped cause this mess?”
“His and every president before him. Give him a break, Jen. A president’s decisions are only as good as his information. Let’s just make sure he gets the best information we’re able to give him. Have you seen Peyton?”
“She’s up on the mountain with Kim.”
Every nerve in his body tightened, on alert. “What the hell?”
“Kim wanted to show her the point of origin. Peyton wanted to see if she could find something to help Doug.”
He blinked. “And you let her go.” He pivoted, so tense he worried his muscles would snap. “Of course you let her go. Anything to h
elp Doug.”
Irritation vibrated from her every pore. “What is with you?”
He stopped and held out his hand, palm out. “Do you have the list of firefighters who were in Montana when the fire started?”
“Yes, sure, in the command tent, but—”
He spun on his heel and headed for the tent, fighting rising fear that he wasn’t out there to watch over Peyton. “How many names were on it?”
She glanced toward the president’s retreating entourage before she turned and fell into step behind Gabe. “I don’t know. Ten? Fifteen?”
“Any of them pop for you?”
“Pop? What do you mean?”
“Stand out? Raise suspicion? For Doug?”
“No. Why?”
“I have a bad feeling.” He shoved his way into the tent, scanned the map-strewn table for an out-of-place piece of paper, found it, snatched it up. “Hell and damn,” he said, when he saw two familiar names. Two injured firefighters, one of whom had no business in Montana the week in question. He looked up at Jen then. “We have to get Peyton off the mountain.”
Raising Peyton on the radio didn’t work, so they tried to reach Kim. Gabe fought every nerve to keep his voice calm. He couldn’t let her see his suspicions, not when she was alone on the mountain with the woman he loved.
But no one answered.
“Where did they go?” Gabe demanded through a tight throat, not expecting a response.
“The point of origin, I told you,” Jen said.
His patience had reached its snapping point and he whipped his head around. “Which is where?”
“I can give you the general area on the map, but I haven’t been up there so I’m not exactly sure.” She frowned up at him. “What is going on?”
He braced his hands on the scarred table, holding her gaze. In the back of his mind, he realized he didn’t love her anymore. The thought was…liberating, but he pushed the sensation aside when she huffed at him.
“Kevin O’Doul told me he was on a fire in California two weeks ago, and he’d gotten a burn there bad enough to put him on medical leave. Kim had a burn on her palm when we met up here, not a line from the drip torch, but the whole palm was blistered.”
Hot Shot Page 18
