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The volunteer fire department had arrived faster than they’d expected and continued to hose down the smoldering building and the surrounding shops.
Once they realized no one was inside, Kendall went to talk to the fire chief, and Logan headed down the street to his stable master’s office.
Hunter walked over to the Old West Town security guys hovering near the fire truck at the back of the building.
Then he noticed Dylan standing all alone, watching the firefighters work as unease blazed in his eyes. Had they both gotten out in time? Hunter marched over to him. “Where’s Lilianna?”
He looked startled, glanced over his shoulder toward the end of town, and said in a low tone, “She’s in Logan’s office above the stables. We didn’t come here.”
Hunter was stunned. “Why didn’t you? Not that I’m sorry, I just raced here expecting to see the both of you torched to death. I’m a little on edge.”
“Lilianna was afraid the Feds would come and look at your shop next, if they didn’t find her at our house.”
Hunter remembered something. “Well, you better head on back. Logan has a silent alarm on his door, too. He just took off to check on who broke in.”
“Shit,” Dylan raced away, his legs moving quickly in the direction of the stables at the other end of the street. Hunter remembered something else, too. Someone had come inside his woodworking shop tonight, as well, because the alarm had been tripped. Once everyone left, he’d have to go in and see if his camera surveillance was still operational and who’d popped in for a visit since it wasn’t Dylan.
Hunter started to follow him back to Logan’s office, if nothing else to see Lilianna and assure himself she was safe, but Kendall called him over to an already intense conversation he was having with the fire chief.
“…this was obviously arson. You’re lucky there were sprinklers installed inside the woodshop or it would have been much worse. That’s likely what stopped the fire from spreading.”
“Why are you certain it’s arson?” Hunter asked.
“We can already see where an accelerant was splashed all over the rear part of the building’s outside wall in the burn patterns. Do you have any idea who could have done this?” the fire chief asked Kendall.
“No. Although, Hunter and I just came from our compound after a fake call from a fake federal law enforcement trying to serve a phony warrant to bring in a material witness.”
“Who’s the witness?” The fire chief had been jotting things down in a small notebook.
Hunter gave Kendall a death stare. “Since it was a fake warrant, what does it matter?”
The fire chief gave him an amused look. “It will help with the investigation if we have all the relevant information including any witnesses.”
“But she wasn’t a witness to this fire or the fake federal warrant fiasco. She’s likely just an innocent party.” He knew he sounded like a lovelorn fool, but he didn’t care.
Then he remembered that Kendall already knew Lilianna’s name from the stupid fake warrant. “I appreciate your protective nature, Hunter, but these two incidents must be related,” Kendall said, trying to soothe his ire.
Hunter weighed his options. Over one shoulder he saw Duke pull up in his police cruiser, concern spread across his face when he looked at Hunter’s woodworking shop.
“If I give you the name, what assurances do I have that this supposed witness won’t be harassed?”
Duke stepped into Hunter’s tight little circle of hell as the fire chief cleared his throat, and asked, “Don’t you want us to investigate and discover who torched your woodworking shop?”
Hunter felt like his head was about to explode. Privacy was something he took more than seriously. This fact wasn’t a secret to anyone who knew him well. And while he didn’t disagree with the fire chief, he was reluctant to share every detail he knew. In fact, he understood completely why the guy wanted a name and precisely what he’d do with it. Investigate thoroughly.
Hunter’s protective nature took a step backward. The fire chief was a good guy. He trusted him to do a great job with his investigation, and in fact, Hunter did want him to find out who’d torched his shop.
