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“I think we both need a drink,” he stated, prepared to pull away when the phone rang again. “Goddamn it!”
I noticed something in the sky, a strange coloration, flickers of something I couldn’t make out from where I was standing. “Montgomery. I think you need to take a look at this.”
Huffing, he returned toward the railing, allowing his gaze to follow where I was pointing. “Shit.”
“What is that?”
“A fire.”
“Here?”
“I’m not certain, but I have to go.”
I snapped my hand around his arm. “I want to go with you.”
He glowered down at me, shaking his head. “As long as you stay in the car. Do you understand me?”
“Of course.”
“Then get dressed. The night just turned to shit and if I have my way, someone is going to die tonight.”
Death.
The words remained imbedded in the forefront of my mind. What I realized at that moment was that the ruthless tyrant could easily turn into a killer.
CHAPTER11
Montgomery
Fire.
Very few things terrified me in my life, but the thought of another fire allowed my demons to pull me close to hell. I was shaking by the time we jumped into my car, my heart racing. I’d had a strange phone call earlier that evening, no one on the other end of the line. Maybe my visit to Prescott had gotten to him.
Now this? I couldn’t tell for certain, but my gut told me the winery closest to my property on the west side was on fire. Jesus.
“Are you okay?” Aspen asked, her tone much more timid than I’d heard before.
I punched down the accelerator, barely glancing in her direction. I’d likely made a mistake allowing her to come with me, but I had the distinct feeling she would have followed anyway. At least this way, I could keep an eye on her actions. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Why is this happening?”
I laughed; the answer was far too complicated to get into at this point in time. When my phone rang, she groaned. I finally glanced at the screen, answering Robert’s call. “You know about the fire?” I was barking into the phone, already seething to the point I found it difficult to focus.
“Where the hell have you been? Of course it’s about the fire. This shit is getting old. It’s Kingston Wineries. Douglas is likely to lose everything.” Robert was obviously in his car heading toward the dire situation.
I hated to admit that I was breathing a sigh of relief. Kingston Wineries butted up to the west side of our property line; the small but profitable winery had never been a threat. In fact, the owner, Douglas Kingston, had been one of the few winery operators that I’d developed a type of friendship with. We’d exchanged stories over the years, and I’d been able to help with certain fertilization efforts. The man didn’t deserve this bullshit. That was for certain.
“Do you know any details?”
“Only that it’s a three-alarm fire,” Robert answered.
Hissing, I drove like a bat out of hell, taking the back way to the man’s place. There was a cut through that very few people knew about, access that we’d both used on rare occasions. A three-alarm fire would be devastating.
“You’re right. He’s going to lose everything. Fucking bastard.”
Robert sighed. “Likely. Don’t do anything stupid. The fire department and the sheriff are already on the way.”
I’d always found it interesting that Robert kept a scanner by his bed, learning about the most horrific situations at the same time as emergency personnel. He’d been first on the scene of the barn fire two years ago, a solid twenty minutes before the fire department arrived.
