Controlled Burn

Chapter 6

Ray Curtis had been hired as fire chief about two months before Boone moved to Winslow. Homegrown, he'd lived in San Antonio for seven years, working for the SAFD, until he and his wife decided they liked country living a lot better. The county had been damn happy to get him. He ran a top-notch department on a shoestring budget. This was not a county with a lot of money, so he used a lot of his budget to have the best equipment and increased the size of his department with volunteers like Boone.

"Got any news for me, chief?" he asked, shaking hands with the man.

"Maybe. Mostly looking for someone to run some ideas past. You got some time?"

"Sure. Come on in the house. Coffee's fresh."

Settled at the kitchen table with their coffee, he waited for Curtis to open the conversation.

"You know I've had an arson investigator going over everything since the second fire, right?"

Boone nodded, sipped his coffee, and waited.

"Mostly, he hasn't found anything. No accelerant. No oil-soaked rags." Curtis idly stirred his coffee. "Whoever is doing this, they know exactly what they're doing."

"I can't even begin to think someone around here would be causing this." Boone shook his head, "This is a close-knit community, not just the town, but the whole county. I mean, countywide, the population would barely fill a good-sized town."

"I know. Now you know why I'm so stumped. It's like one big family. And not a dysfunctional one, either. So, what in hell has prompted this?"

"You said you might have found something," Boone prompted.

"Yeah. Only because the arson investigator is thorough and relentless." He took a long swallow of his coffee, set the mug down, and stared at it for a moment. "The barn was old, the wood so dry it incinerated in minutes. You saw it happen."

"I did." Boone waited.

"Pieces of it were still standing. Not much. But there were some small sheets of metal leaning against the far wall by the rear entrance. They fell over as the flames consumed the wood around them. When we lifted them this morning, we found the remnants of newspapers. Of course they were pretty soaked. Shredded when we picked them up with tongs to put in an evidence bag. But there was enough left to tell us the fire was deliberately set."

"Whoever did this had to sneak onto the property, get into the barn, set the blaze. And no one saw anything?"

Curtis shook his head. "We've talked to all the neighbors. But the way the places on the street are set up, none of the yards are lit, and there are a lot of trees for cover." He stared into his mug. "We're damn lucky none of the trees went up."

"What can I do for you?" Boone wanted to know.

"Start thinking about who could do this. Take notice of people when you're in town. The sheriff's asking questions to see if these folks had anything in common, or anyone had grudges against them." He drained the rest of his coffee and set the mug down. "But, mostly, I guess, be my sounding board. You're smart, Boone. The sharpest of my volunteers. And you see a lot of people on a regular basis. Keep your eyes open for me, okay?"

"You know I will." He rubbed his jaw. A little suspicion had been niggling at his mind. Behavior he'd observed he thought was a little over the top. Some things he couldn't quite make add up. Should he mention it to the chief? What if he was wrong? No, he'd better wait until he had more proof. Any proof.

When the older man had left, Boone sat quietly for a moment, letting everything roll through his brain. Like Curtis, he hated the idea this was the work of someone they knew. But maybe focusing on this would get his mind off the woman from last night. Lord knew his c**k hadn't forgotten. It had been aching and sending him messages all morning. Even now, he had to adjust his jeans to make himself more comfortable.

Maybe Rusty was right. Instead of riding out with the hands, he'd go into town, pick up the feed. In fact, he could stop in at the Sunrise Diner for lunch and see how the Royals were doing.