“That’s not how coteries work.” He expelled a soft laugh. “I understand your fear, though.”
As much as I wanted to protest fear wasn’t the issue, it was a lie, and we both knew it. The deeper I waded into this new world, the higher unfamiliar waters lapped against my throat, and the more in danger I became of drowning.
Ezra had saved me, over and over. And he had abandoned me, over and over. His hand could be the one that reached out and hauled me onto dry land, or it could be the one that shoved my head underwater for good. Either way, I had three hundred and fifty odd days until I learned for sure. Ezra was nothing if not predictable in his schedule.
Unless I found him first.
The display on my phone glowed, and I half expected the familiar briiiiiiing, as though speaking of Ezra might have summoned him, but no such luck. “Boudreau here.”
“Hey, it’s Dawson. I got an update for you.”
Awareness I had no right to his confidence didn’t stop me from grabbing this temporary lifeline with both hands. “Oh?”
“Summers mentioned her scene stank of citronella, and it’s been bugging the shit out of me ever since. It’s an all-natural bug repellent, right? Well, I got to thinking. We have mosquitos in the south until after the first hard freeze, and we’re months away from that. Ms. Orvis worked outside a lot given her profession, so I figured she must be using the stuff to keep the pests away from her kids and customers.”
“Makes sense.”
“The thing is, I remembered why it was pestering me. The Culberson fire had that same grassy scent, but it’s every-damn-where these days. Bug spray, mosquito coils, bracelets, patches, you name it. It’s one of those smells that outdoorsy people get blind to until someone points it out to us.”
“The restaurant had an outdoor patio.” The first time I visited, I remembered thinking the built-in benches were a nice touch. “Are you sure you weren’t smelling the detonation of a dozen tiki torches?”
“See, that’s why I overlooked it. That and – hell, we had multiple eyewitness accounts of the event.” Papers shuffled in the background. “Here’s the thing, I had my guys run some tests for giggles, and we hit pay dirt. Turns out the Culberson fire had two origins.”
“Ivashov in the restaurant with the drip torch and…?”
“Suspect B with a few hundred rounds of homemade accelerant.”
“Rounds?”
“As in circular. As in cotton. Probably as in facial cleanser pads.”
The tender muscles in my gut clenched as tight as a fist. “What type of accelerant are we talking here?”
“One of my guys is big into survivalist crap. Camps out in the wilds, lives off the land, the whole nine yards. He showed me the pouch of supplies he’s allowed to carry during his challenges, and there were these discs he buys from some online retailer. They’re waterproof fire starters.” A chair groaned, and I imagined him leaning back at his desk. “He starts telling me how much they cost and how some of the guys make their own using supplies they can pick up at the store.”
A panicked sound clawed up my throat that he mistook for encouragement.
“What happens is they soak the cotton in an accelerant. Our perps chose citronella-scented tiki torches. Once the material is saturated, they dump the discs in a crockpot of melted wax to waterproof them. The result is a cheap, efficient, and untraceable fire starter.”
Waxy Wonders.
Dawson was grocery-listing all those seemingly random items Aunt Nancy had left spread on the table in the backyard. The backyard, which had been planted with jasmine purchased at Orvis Nursery days prior to its brush with flames. The connection with the Culbersons was older, but it was still there. Aunt Nancy had a solid link to the Hensarlings as well. One I hadn’t remembered until now. The family allowed her to harvest cotton bolls the pickers missed for the church kids to use when they made Christmas angels.
Dad still had a few of mine crammed in storage boxes in the attic of the farmhouse.
The cop in me hated coincidence, didn’t buy into them, but the child in me, who viewed Nancy as a mother figure, was thrashing her head in denial even as the math started adding up to a grim possibility.
Heart climbing up my throat, I wet my lips. “Have you taken this to Rixton?”
“Not yet,” he grumbled. “He’s not answering his phone.”
“I need to run.” I got behind the wheel of the Bronco, and Wu slid in beside me, no questions asked. “Thanks for keeping me updated.” I ended the call with an impatient thumb. “We’ve got a problem.”
“So I assumed.”
“Sarcasm is your default setting. I get that. I can respect that, appreciate it even, but not right now.”
Fingers poised over the phone screen, about to send out an SOS, I remembered Santiago and Miller were both out of commission. With Thom playing doctor and Cole at the bunkhouse with Portia, I had no shadow tonight.
Damn and double damn.
“That was the CFD arson investigator. He’s located a secondary origin for the Culberson fire. Odds are good he’s going to find evidence that links the Hensarling and Orvis fires to that one too.” My hand lifted to my throat like rubbing the column might help me suck in enough air to keep my vision clear. “The accelerant used is a fire starter popular with hunters, fishermen, and other outdoorsy types.” I formed the words, I could feel my lips moving, but no sound emerged. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Aunt Nancy makes them for the fishing club. All the members use them.”
“That leaves us with a wide suspect pool,” Wu said. “What am I missing?”
“I built her a pergola last weekend.” A pinhead of ice stabbed me in the heart. “She had trays of plants from Orvis. I asked if she knew the owner, and she said Mr. and Mrs. Orvis, as in the ex-husband’s parents, attended her church. That’s how she knew about the nursery.”
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” His calm almost shattered mine.
“Ida Bell, a member of War’s coterie, also attended church with her.” I clutched the wheel with stiff fingers. “The night War came after me, she used Dad as bait. I had stashed him with the Trudeaus, but she got her hooks in him. I never asked how. I didn’t want to involve them, and Dad wasn’t in any condition to answer questions.” That speck of ice spread through my veins. “What if…?”
What if… What if… What if…
The shouting in my head refused to be silenced long enough for me to make sense of my thoughts.
“You believe your aunt may be compromised,” Wu said, filling the dark silence. “That she might have delivered your father to War.”
I parked at the curb outside the Trudeau house and flung open my door. One leg was on the pavement when Wu grasped my hand and shackled me in place.
“Let me go.”
His grip turned bruising as I struggled. “You can’t confront her alone.”
“I won’t leave Dad in there another minute.” I twisted to face him. “Or my uncle. We have to get them out.”
“Your father has been living there for more than a week without complications.” Wu reeled me in closer. “We have time to evaluate the situation before we —”
A snarl rippled through my lip as it curled over my teeth, and I salivated in anticipation of his next protest, of the bite I would take out of him if he tried stopping me.
“We go in together.” Gold flared in the depths of his brown eyes in response, a metallic and unforgiving sheen that glittered in warning. “You do as I say, or I remove you from the equation.” His long fingers closed around my throat, caging me. His thumb stroked my carotid in a slow and easy glide that turned my blood sluggish. “Understand?”
I held his inhuman stare, scarcely daring to breathe, afraid my heart might stop altogether. “Yes.”