Page 3 of The Burning

And the flames burned away the night.

CHAPTER 1

Officer Chuck “Skid” Skidmore was no stranger to mistakes. He’d made a few in his time. More than a few if he wanted to be honest about it. Some had cost him. From others he’d emerged unscathed, but walked away a wiser man. Most of his mistakes were of the innocent variety. A lapse of judgment. Poor planning. Or maybe he simply hadn’t tried hard enough to do the right thing.

Tonight, as he stood on the span of the covered bridge and watched fellow police officer Mona Kurtz pull up behind his cruiser, he figured the one he was about to make was as far removed from innocence as he could imagine. For the life of him he didn’t have the self-discipline to stop.

It was half past two A.M. and snowing like the dickens. He’d been on duty since midnight and hadn’t taken a single call. Boredom and lust were a bad combination for a man who’d been obsessing over a woman—a coworker—for almost six months now.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Mona said as she slammed her car door and started toward him.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” He held his ground, leaning against his cruiser, arms crossed, and for an instant he simply enjoyed the sight of her. Long legs. Hair a little wild. Her coat was open; she was still wearing her police uniform and he could just make out the outline of her figure.

“You off?” he asked.

“Free as a bird.”

Without invitation or hesitation, she went to him, fell against him. The contact was like a bomb going off in his chest. His arms encircled her. She smelled of coconut and mint. He breathed in deep and it only made him want more. He didn’t intend to kiss her, but the next thing he knew his mouth was on hers.

Then she was flush against him. Her arms flung around his neck. Breasts against his chest. Pelvis grinding into his.

“You know this is not smart, right?” he murmured.

“Totally aware,” she panted.

He started to say something about their careers and good judgment, but she took his mouth again. Heart raging, he spun her around, pressed her against the car door. Hands beneath her shirt, fingers seeking the closure of her bra. Blood rushing from his head to just south of his belt.

“Back seat,” he ground out, reaching for the door handle.

“Hurry.”

He fumbled the handle, got his fingers under it, opened the door. He was so focused on getting her into the back seat, he almost didn’t hear the scream.

Mona went still in his arms, turned her head to break the kiss. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah.” Skid straightened, gave himself a hard mental shake. “Sounded like a scream.”

Not just a scream, he thought, but the kind of sound that made the hair on your neck stand on end.

“Who’s screaming their head off in the woods at this time of night?” she whispered.

He eased away from her and looked around, his cop’s instincts slowly returning. Only then did he catch the smell of smoke. “Something burning.”

Mona looked around as if to get her bearings. “I smell it.”

“We need to check.”

“Yep.”

Tugging the mini Maglite from his belt, Skid set the beam on the woods. Sure enough, fingers of white smoke hovered among the trees.

“Wind’s out of the north,” he murmured.

“Skid, there’s no farm in that direction,” she said.

“Too damn cold for anyone to be camping.” Tilting his head, he spoke into his lapel. “Ten-seven-three,” he said, letting his dispatcher know there was smoke in the area.

Margaret’s voice cracked over his radio. “What’s the twenty on that?”