by LENA DIAZ,
No, the man who’d lived here loved fire, worshipped fire. He’d used it that day at the mine. He was using fire, according to the profile, to kill others. And he’d use it to kill that girl.
Latham lifted his boot to cross the threshold.
“Looking for someone, Sheriff?”
Latham froze at the sound of the familiar voice behind him, the voice of the man he’d come up here looking for. A couple of decades too late. Damn. He’d been retired too long. His hearing wasn’t what it used to be. He should have been more careful.
“Drop the gun.”
“Now, I wouldn’t be very smart if I did that, would I?”
“If you were smart, you wouldn’t have come up here. Now drop it.” The sliding action of a bullet being chambered in a rifle echoed through the trees.
Latham tossed his gun to the floor. It landed right in the middle of the scorched circle of wood. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
I’m sorry, Betsy. I should have been more careful.
He raised his hands in the air and slowly turned around. One hand pointed the rifle at him, the other held a Molotov cocktail. The cloth hanging out of the bottle had already been lit and the flame greedily crept toward the mouth of the bottle.
The bottle flew toward him. He cursed and dove to the side. The bottle slammed against the ground, bursting and exploding in a ball of flame. Latham screamed in agony as the fires of hell rained down on him.
MATT SLID BEHIND the wheel before Tessa could stop him. She shook her head. The man was a pain about always driving. As soon as her seat belt was on, Matt headed out, aiming the car back the way they’d come.
Tessa held out her hand. Matt slid the computer out of his pocket and gave it to her. Sometimes their ease of communication was almost scary, like they were an old married couple.
She studied the map on the screen. “Okay, in about four more miles turn right on Sampson.”
When he made the turn, she set the computer down on the console between them. “Stay on this road for about five miles. Then you’ll make another right onto Coal-Miner’s Way.”
“Imaginative.”
“Very. I’m going to update Casey.” She dialed her boss and put him on speaker. They exchanged quick greetings.
“Where are you now?” Casey asked. “Back in Madisonville?”
“No, we’re still in the Stoneyville area. No one here recognized Tonya Garrett’s picture, but we have a possible lead on a man who lived here years ago and left right around the time of the accident that killed . . . Becca Miller.” She still wasn’t comfortable talking about Sissie as her mother. “Everything about him fits the profile.”
“Has anyone seen him in the area recently?”
“No, not for years. But he was a coal miner.” She looked out her window at the trees they were passing. “And there are plenty of pine trees around here, so that fits the particulates found on the letters. He was a loner, no friends, lived in a little shack off by himself. We’re going there now to check it out.”
“Did you get a name for this guy?”
“Don Hargrove. Christina, the restaurant owner in town we spoke to, thought he sounded like he could be the man we’re looking for.”
“Okay. I’ll get the team to do a search on that name. And I’ll have them ask around, see if anyone in Priceville knows anyone by that name. I’m guessing you think Hoffman and Hargrove are the same guy.”
“Yes, sir. I think it’s a very real possibility.”
“That would explain why we couldn’t find records of Hoffman if he changed his name. But why change it back?”
“I still haven’t figured out a theory for that.”
Casey sighed into the phone. “Okay, I’ll start someone researching this Hargrove guy. If he’s Hoffman, then Hoffman had to have stolen someone’s identity. He would have chosen some dead guy’s social security number most likely. Back in the pre-Nine Eleven days, that wasn’t so hard to do, so it’s definitely feasible. Maybe he got into some trouble with the law or something, so he couldn’t use the Hargrove identity anymore. Maybe he figured going back to Hoffman after all these years wouldn’t matter, that no one would be looking for him.”
That sounded about as reasonable as any theory Tessa could think of. “Are you sending up the agents we requested?”
“Their flight leaves in an hour. They’ll call you when they get in.”
Tessa smiled at Matt. “Thanks, Casey.”
“Any progress on your end?” Matt asked.
“Not yet. No one has approached the house in Alabama and there’s no sign of the missing girl.”
Tessa pointed to the turnoff up ahead.
Matt nodded, slowed, and headed down Coal-Miner’s Way.
“Maybe you can track down the mining company Hargrove used to work for,” Tessa said. “See if they have a picture ID. We can interview some of the miners, see if they ever saw two red-haired little girls with him.”
“Do you have the name of the coal-mining company?”
She gave him the name Matt had written on the map after verifying Stephens had been right about the three mines. The GPS on Matt’s computer blinked and Tessa held up three fingers, letting Matt know they were three miles from their destination.
“Call me after you find the shack. If there are signs that anyone has been up there recently, back out immediately and wait in town for the agents to get there. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Tessa said.
“How close are you?”
“A couple of miles.”
“Okay. I’ll expect a call back in thirty minutes. I mean it, Tessa. Don’t be late. If I don’t hear from you in exactly thirty minutes, I’m sending local law enforcement up there. Don’t make me cry wolf because you forget to call.”
“She’ll call,” Matt assured him.
Tessa hung up and shoved the phone in her suit jacket pocket. A few minutes later, Matt pulled the car to a stop in front of a collection of weathered gray structures that were no longer worthy of being called houses. Tessa sighed with disappointment as she studied the shacks through the windshield. At first glimpse, it didn’t look as if anyone had been here recently.
Matt quickly got out of the car, but Tessa hurried to open her door before he could make his way around to do it for her.
He grinned and shook his head. “Okay, this is your field of expertise now. How do you want to perform the search?”
“If you were an FBI agent, I’d say we’d split up, cover more ground.”
“If I were an FBI agent, I’d tell you hell no, I’m not leaving a woman alone up here.”
She tapped her holster. “Really? This caveman side of you might be cute to the younger girls, but I think it’s a bit silly. If anyone is protecting anyone, it’s me protecting you. You’re the civilian.”
He raised a brow. Then, as if to challenge her statement, he strode right into the nearest shack without waiting for her.
She cursed and ran in after him with her gun drawn down by her side. She narrowed her eyes at him when she got inside, then led the way through the small honeycomb of rooms. It took just a few seconds to clear the interior. There wasn’t any furniture and there were only two bedrooms, a small bath, and a living room–kitchen combo.
The other shacks nearby proved to have the same layout and be just as empty.
Tessa holstered her gun. “I think it’s safe to say no one has been up here in a long time. But if Christina was right, Hargrove’s shack will be off by itself, away from these. We’ll have to scout around and see if we can find it.”
Fifteen minutes later they located and searched another shack about fifty yards from the others, set a little bit farther back into the woods. It was just as empty and deserted as the shacks they’d already searched.
Tessa plopped down on the front steps to call Casey, while Matt leaned against one of the crooked posts that barely seemed to be holding up the roof over the front porch.
When she finished the call, she
stood and turned in a half circle. “I guess we’re done here. I say we go find the mining company and see if they can give us any information on Hargrove or the other miners. I want to at least have something to give the other agents when they get here.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They’d just started back down the road when Matt stopped the car. “There’s another shack, way back down that path through those trees. See it?”
Tessa leaned across him. “I see it. Let’s check it out.”
It was a short jog to the building, down a long, winding path to a clearing. But as soon as Tessa stepped in front of the shack, her breath caught in her throat.
“This ground was burned recently.” She knelt down and held her hand above the dark circle. “It’s still hot.” She yanked her gun out of its holster and scanned the woods around them.
“Let’s get out of here.” Matt put his hand on the small of her back to lead her toward the path to the car.
“Wait.” She shoved his hand away and kept her voice low. She pointed toward the trees. “There’s another path through there. Let’s follow it and see where it goes. If he’s here, Tonya Garrett may be here too. We can’t just leave her.”
“Yes. We can. You promised Casey if you saw any signs of someone up here, you’d get the hell out. We’re leaving.”
She cocked a brow. “Is the big and powerful Matt Buchanan afraid of the woods? And here I thought I was the one with an aversion to rural areas.”
“Sure, yeah. Let’s go with that. I’m scared, so let’s get out of here and call Casey.” He grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the car.
“All right, all right. I’m going.” She yanked her arm out of his grip.
A sound echoed through the trees somewhere off to their right. Tessa stopped and looked back at Matt.
“Was that a dog?” they both said at the same time.
Matt’s eyes widened when the dog barked again. “I could swear that sounds like . . .” He parted the bushes that bordered the path.
They both leaned down and peeked through the opening into the clearing beyond. Thirty feet away, tied with a chain to a tree beside what appeared to be the opening to an old coal mine, was a golden retriever. With a bright blue collar.
“Is that Ginger?” Tessa whispered.
Matt nodded, his mouth tightening as he let the bushes close. “This smells like a trap.”
She nodded her agreement.
He hesitated and glanced back toward the bushes.
“Matt, we can try to get her,” she whispered. “We can sneak—”
He shook his head and held his finger to his lips to silence her. He pressed his hand against the small of her back, urging her down the path toward their car again.
She swept her gun out in front of her, making as little noise as possible. She wanted to call Casey, but she didn’t want to make any noise that might give away their position. She compromised and punched in his number, but instead of talking, she slipped the phone into her pocket. When Casey picked up he’d hear her and Matt and know something was wrong. He’d send backup.
The path widened into a small clearing. They both stopped and looked around.
“Clear,” she whispered.
They continued on, keeping to the edge of the trees. The path widened as they got closer to where the car was parked, offering them less and less cover.
Tessa’s heart was pounding so hard she heard her pulse beating in her ears. She could see the car up ahead. Just thirty more seconds and they’d be heading back down the mountain.
The path was about to end at a break in the trees. The car sat just outside that break, twenty feet away.
The crack of a rifle echoed through the trees as the bullet slammed into her.
TESSA FLEW BACKWARD with enough force to knock Matt down. He fell back on the path, with Tessa on top of him.
He barely had time to register the pale look of shock on her face before he scooped her up in his arms and ran back down the path, away from the shooter and, unfortunately, away from the car.
Another shot rang out behind them. The whine of a bullet whistled past his ear.
Damn it.
“My gun, my gun,” Tessa gasped, then scrunched up her face in pain.
“It’s back in the clearing. It flew out of your hand when you got shot. Please tell me you’re wearing your vest.”
“I would, but I’d be lying.” She winced again.
Matt cursed. When the path turned a corner, he ran into the trees to the right and ducked behind a tree. He cradled Tessa against his chest, afraid to look down to see what kind of damage the bullet had done. He hadn’t seen any blood when he’d picked her up. He hoped that meant the bullet had just grazed her and she was more bruised than hurt.
Then again, it could just mean he hadn’t looked in the right spot. Things had happened so fast. He held his gun pointed in front of them both and listened intently. Nothing. No sounds of pursuit. No sounds of . . . anything. Even the birds had stopped singing.
A sinking feeling went through him.
The ratcheting sound of a rifle being loaded had him jerking his head around just in time to see the gun’s barrel less than three feet away, pointed right at Tessa’s head.
Tessa drew in a sharp breath.
“Drop your gun,” the man with the rifle ordered, “or I blow her head off.”
Matt didn’t know what he’d expected their serial arsonist, Tessa’s father, to look like. But a white-haired man was not it. He looked fit and strong, but the only thing intimidating about him was the gun in his hands, and the fact that he’d positioned himself in a crouch with Tessa between him and Matt. The only way Matt could shoot him was if he swung Tessa out of the way first, and he wasn’t going to bet Tessa’s life that he could do that before the gunman pulled the trigger.
Maybe he could distract him.
“Hargrove, right? Or are you going by Hoffman these days?”
The old man didn’t even blink. “I’m going to pull this trigger in about two seconds if you don’t drop your gun.”
Matt dropped his pistol.
Hargrove retreated a few feet but kept his rifle trained on Tessa. “Get back onto the path.” His voice was raspy, like a two-pack-a-day smoker—or someone who’d spent half his life starting fires.
Matt risked a quick glance down. This time he saw the blood, a small spreading stain on Tessa’s side that was pressed against him. Her face was pale, but he didn’t think it was from the gunshot so much as it was seeing the man from her nightmares. She clutched her fingers against Matt’s shirt.
Frustration welled up inside Matt as he followed orders and headed down the path, farther and farther from their car. There had to be some way to get that rifle. Hargrove was no match for him in a fight. All he needed was to get one solid punch in, but the older man was too far away.
“Turn right.”
Matt did as directed, but he kept his steps slow, stalling for time while he tried to think of some way out of this mess that didn’t involve getting Tessa or himself killed.
She tugged on the front of his shirt.
He glanced down in question.
“Casey’s on the phone,” she whispered.
He grinned. That was his girl, always thinking. He blinked, once, to let her know he understood.
The faint sound of sirens floated through the trees. Yes. Casey was sending help.
“Keep moving.”
The unconcerned tone in Hargrove’s voice sent a chill through Matt. Hargrove wasn’t worried about the sirens. Why not?
The path ended, spilling them out into the clearing where they’d seen Ginger. But there was no sign of her now. The mouth of the mine yawned dark and open in front of them. Matt stopped. There was no way he was going inside. He’d be signing their death warrants.
“Keep moving.”
Matt looked down at Tessa. “How badly are you hurt? Can you stand?” he whispered.
“I think the bullet just
grazed me. Hurts like hell, but I don’t feel faint or anything.”
“I’m going to stand you up. When I rush the gunman, run.”
“No way. Don’t even think about it. He’ll kill you.”
The rifle boomed. Matt clutched Tessa against his chest. Dirt shot up in front of his feet.
“Next one goes right between her eyes. Now move. Get into the mine. Now!”
Matt sprinted into the mine with Tessa in his arms.
He expected the bite of a bullet in his back, but it didn’t come. When he reached a curve in the wall, he ducked around it and carefully set Tessa on her feet.
“You okay?” he whispered.
“I think so.”
Matt leaned around the curve in the wall. Hargrove hadn’t moved. He stood in the clearing and raised the end of his rifle, aiming at a spot above the entrance to the mine.
“What’s he doing?” Tessa whispered.
“No clue.”
The sirens were so loud now they had to have reached the part of the road where Matt had parked the car. So why wasn’t Hargrove running, hiding?
Because he’d planned this all along. He’d intended to lure Tessa up here, not realizing she didn’t have her memory and it would take so long to figure out where exactly here was. Hargrove had it all planned, down to the last detail. And how did Hargrove kill his victims? Not with bullets.
With fire.
Shit. Matt would bet his life Hargrove had the entrance rigged to blow.
Matt scooped Tessa back into his arms and took off running down the tunnel.
Behind him, the rifle boomed. Seconds later a blast of heat exploded into the mine. A deep rumbling sound echoed through the tunnels and the walls began to shake. A deluge of rock and dust poured down, blocking out the light.
Unable to see, Matt slammed into the wall and fell backward.
Tessa screamed.
The mineshaft collapsed around them.
