Cold Dawn Part 8

"A friend's."

Defensive, vague. Grit knew better than to try to get specifics out of him. Charlie would be ten questions ahead by now. Being direct with the kid was his only chance. "The Secret Service know?"

"I have to be in cla.s.s in one minute forty-eight seconds."

"Any candidates for who this firebug is?" Grit asked.

"I have a list of names."

Charlie would. Grit regretted his question. "*Firebug' can mean anything."

"Serial arsonist, then."

"Go take your calculus test."

"I told you my sister Marissa has an ex-boyfriend in L.A., right? An actor. He writes screenplays, too. He dumped Marissa when Dad was tapped as veep."

Marissa Neal was the eldest of Charlie's four sisters and a history teacher at his northern Virginia private high school. She was also beautiful, and she didn't think Grit was such a positive influence on her brother.

"The only connection-and I use the word loosely-between your sister and this guy is an ex-boyfriend in California?"

Charlie was undeterred. "Jasper Vanderhorn was a California arson investigator."

"Do you know how many millions of people there are in California?"

"He was based in Los Angeles County. The ex-boyfriend's in Beverly Hills. Well, maybe not quite. On the border. Close."

"You're a genius, Charlie. Do the math on the odds-"

"Nick Martini is a smoke jumper, and he was with Rose Cameron when she found the victim of yesterday morning's fire in Black Falls."

"Charlie."

"I asked Jo about it. She wasn't that nice."

"Good."

"You're missing the nuances."

Grit felt the sun hot on the back of his neck. "I'm not good with nuances."

"The ex-boyfriend and Marissa broke up eighteen months ago. Last June, Jasper Vanderhorn, the arson investigator, died in a suspicious wildland canyon fire north of Los Angeles. Sean Cameron and Nick Martini tried to get to him but they were too late. At the same time, Rose Cameron was nearby, searching for an eleven-year-old boy who'd wandered off when his family had to evacuate."

"So? I'm not connecting the dots here, Charlie."

Charlie ignored him. "Jo was a.s.signed to protect Marissa then."

"Special Agent Harper," Grit said, not letting it go this time.

"Right. Special Agent Harper. Then last October, Marissa was almost killed when a gas stove blew up at a place she rented with friends in the Shenandoah Mountains. Jo-Agent Harper-saved her." When Grit didn't respond, Charlie took a breath. "Then in November, we had the fire at Myrtle's."

"Miss Smith or Ms. Smith."

"She said I could call her Myrtle."

Grit was silent.

"Miss Smith could have been killed. The same day as that fire, we had the improvised explosive device in Vermont that killed Melanie Kendall. Then in January, we had the two IEDs that almost killed Hannah Shay, Sean Cameron and Bowie O'Rourke-and Vivian Whittaker, too, but I'm not sure I want to count her. Awful woman."

Grit tried not to let himself get sidetracked by Charlie's pinball-machine of a mind. "We don't know who set Myrtle's house on fire, but the bombs were Lowell Whittaker's doing."

"With the help of one of his hired killers, who happens also to be a serious pyromaniac," Charlie said with absolute certainty. "I have a list of other fires around the country he could have started."

"Could be a she."

"Eighty percent of arsonists are men."

Grit knew better than to doubt, never mind argue with, Charlie Neal's information. "I know you're working hard on this, Charlie. Your sister's fire was an accident."

"What if it just looked like an accident?"

"Your one minute forty-eight seconds are up. Good luck on the calculus test."

"I'll get a ninety-six. I've already decided where I'll shave off the points. It's obnoxious to get a hundred all the time. I stopped doing extra credit in fifth grade."

"There's no hiding you're smart, Charlie."

The kid was already gone. Grit finally rolled down his window. He thought he could smell lilacs in the air, but it was still too early for lilacs. He turned onto Ma.s.sachusetts Avenue, again thinking about tupelo honey. His folks had told him he could come home if he decided to quit the navy. "There's always a place here for you here," his mother had said.

Good to know, given what he was thinking.

Charlie texted him a name: Trent Stevens, Beverly Hills.

Marissa Neal's actor ex-boyfriend.

Grit tossed his phone back onto the seat next to him. Charlie Neal was playing with a fire of his own.

By the time he arrived at the Pentagon, Grit had formulated the bones of a plan. Admiral Jenkins had been after him to go to San Diego to meet with some experts or some such out there-Grit hadn't paid attention and didn't care about the particulars. Charlie wanted him in L.A. to check out the actor.

Grit figured he'd found a way to make everyone happy.

Seven.

Black Falls, Vermont R ose stayed in a small room on the second floor of the main part of the lodge, its dormer windows looking out on Cameron Mountain. It was one of her favorite rooms. She and her mother had picked out the cheerful blue-and-white fabrics and colorful autumn prints.

She'd slept fitfully, waking up sweating, heart racing, from nightmares she couldn't remember but knew had been bad. At first light, she grabbed Ranger and went for a run, sticking to Ridge Road. At Four Corners, she waved to the McBanes, the elderly couple who lived in the old tavern directly across from the cemetery. They were sanding their walk and filling their bird feeders. Sean had quietly bought the place, making them life tenants.

Rose continued a half mile past the partially collapsed barn on the opposite corner before turning back, Ranger trotting comfortably at her side. A few guests were up at the lodge, but she didn't see Nick as she helped herself to a m.u.f.fin and coffee and slipped up to her room for a hot shower. She changed into warm, dry clothes, brushed Ranger and headed back down to the lobby. She and Lauren had agreed to meet at the old sugar shack in an hour.

Both Scott Thorne and Zack Harper were in the lobby. Rose didn't detect any awkwardness between the two men given Scott's sudden breakup with Beth. Rose suspected the trauma of the past year had taken a toll on both of them, but neither would admit it. They were professionals. They weren't supposed to fall apart. At least, according to Hannah, it had been an amicable split. Beth and Scott, who hadn't grown up in Black Falls, had always done well as friends.

"Hey, Rose," Zack said, cider doughnut in hand. He looked so much like his two older sisters, but his eyes were a darker turquoise, his hair a darker copper. He was one of a handful of full-time firefighters in the town's otherwise volunteer department. "Quiet morning."

"I ran five miles first thing. I can feel it in my legs."

"Running off your stress?" Scott asked.

Rose doubted he was teasing her. She smiled. "Running to run."

Nick came in from the dining room, moving easily, as if he'd slept well and didn't have a care in the world. He had on a thick, soft-looking sweater, canvas pants and boots. "While you were running," he said, "I was helping myself to the breakfast buffet. They're serious about breakfast here."

Rose was aware of Scott and Zack observing her with obvious interest and hoped her face hadn't turned red, despite the rush of heat she felt at Nick's presence. "What would you have had at home?"

"Nothing."

"That's not good for you."

Nick grinned at her. "Pancakes, sausage, b.u.t.ter and maple syrup are?"

"You can have whole-grain pancakes, turkey sausage and not overdo the b.u.t.ter and syrup. Nothing, though...you need to jump-start your engine in the morning."

"I do. I have coffee when I get to work."

"You're on California time. It's still early there." Ranger, who had been sitting beside her, lay down and put his head on her feet, as if he understood how ridiculously self-conscious she was all of a sudden. She turned to Scott. "Are you here on official business?"

"Just stopping by," he said, not giving a direct answer.

"I've been thinking about yesterday," she said. "It had to be a hot, sudden fire for Derek to have been killed. He must not have had any serious chance to put out the flames. How does a kerosene lamp basically turn itself into a bomb?"

"Different possibilities," Scott said.

Zack dusted cinnamon sugar off his hands. "We're not getting into them with you, Rose."

"White gas would do it," Nick said, leaning against the back of a chair in front of the stone fireplace. "It's highly refined petroleum that burns very fast and very hot. It's great in camp stoves for just that reason. Kerosene burns at a slow, steady rate, even under pressure. Put white gas under pressure in an old lamp and light it, and you've got what we saw yesterday."

Zack didn't look annoyed at Nick's explanation, but Scott did. Rose felt Ranger warm on her feet. "White gas is easy to find, easy to transport, easy to store." She reached for a cider doughnut on a sideboard. "Anyone could get their hands on it. Derek could have had it for a camp stove and just not realized it was the wrong fuel for the lamp. It's the simplest explanation, isn't it?"

"Simplest doesn't matter," Scott muttered. "Right matters."

"Did you find a camp stove in Derek's things? A container of white gas?" She didn't expect an answer and bit into her doughnut as she considered where she was going with this. "Was a kerosene lamp in the shed after Lowell's arrest and no one ever looked to see what was in it?"

"We're checking," Scott said curtly.

"Even if there was, it doesn't mean Lowell filled the lamp with white gas himself, or if he did, that he meant for it to explode. The white gas just could have been a mistake. If the lamp wasn't in the shed, then either Derek brought it with him, which seems unlikely, or someone put it there. A killer would have to have known Derek would be there and would light the lamp."

"That sums it up," Zack said.

Rose kept her gaze on Scott. "Does anyone suspect Derek had anything to do with Lowell's network of killers? Could he have been targeted by one of them-one who got away?"

Scott watched her closely, expressionless. Zack cleared his throat, as if Rose had suddenly gone too far. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Nick calmly cross his arms over his chest and continue to take in the conversation. She had no illusions that he wasn't paying attention to every word.

"Time to pull back, Rose," Scott said finally, serious but not surly. "Let us do our jobs. You just be sure you've told us everything."

She couldn't tell if he suspected she hadn't. "What about Robert Feehan? Have you all caught up with him, yet?"

Scott sighed but answered her. "Not yet. He hasn't been in touch with you, has he?"

She shook her head. "I saw him and Brett Griffin going into O'Rourke's one night a couple of weeks ago. Otherwise I haven't seen or talked to him in months."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "Derek Cutshaw wasn't with them?"

"No."

"What were you doing in town?"

"It was cleaning night at the cafe. I was helping."

Rose thought she saw a flicker of pain in Scott's face but whatever it was didn't last. He would never let his relations.h.i.+p with Beth interfere with his work.

Zack squatted down to pat Ranger. "Hey, fella," he said, rising as he glanced at Rose. "Did you ever refer ski clients to Cutshaw, Feehan or Griffin?"

"No, never," Rose said. "Did you?"

"I'd have to know someone who couldn't ski," he said good-naturedly. "I have to roll. Tell A.J. to put the coffee and doughnut on my tab."

"They're on me," Rose said.

A.J., Lauren and their two children entered the lodge. Her brother regarded the gathering in the lobby with obvious displeasure. Scott took the hint and followed Zack out. A.J. glanced at Rose, then silently retreated with his family into the office behind the front desk.

"I don't blame A.J. for being annoyed," Rose said as Nick stood up straight. He was intense but not, she thought, easily ruffled. "I should have moved us to a less public spot. What are you doing today?"

"I might take a cross-country skiing lesson. You?"

"You aren't taking a skiing lesson. Never mind. Right now I just want to put yesterday behind me. Black Falls is a safe, quiet little town. Lowell Whittaker bought a house here, and we all suffered the consequences of his warped thinking and violence."

Nick tilted his head back, studying her with those dark eyes. "What aren't you telling Trooper Thorne and Zack Harper?"

She pretended she hadn't heard him and fought an urge to lay her head against his thick, warm sweater and feel his arms around her. But where would that get her?

Nowhere good, she thought, and finished her doughnut. Nick watched her but said nothing as she headed outside, leaving Ranger asleep on the warm hearth.