Page 25 of Ink and Ashes

Colson

I hoped today would be a good day—normal, uneventful. I woke up before my alarm and managed to get in a quick run. I was going to come in early to catch up on some paperwork before shift starts at eight, and then the crew and I were going to spend the day running drills again.

On my way to the station, I stopped at Cedar Lane Café for a coffee and some breakfast. All was going great there too—I walked right up to the counter and ordered my usual, a black coffee and a ham sandwich.

While I was waiting for my order, I spotted Diane Patterson sitting in her usual spot reading the paper. There was nothing unusual about that. Until she turned the page, and the headline on the front of the paper caught my eye.

That’s when things changed.

It read Is Ember Grove burning by design? and the moment those words landed, all I saw was red. Red like the colour of Holland’s hair—because I knew she could be the only one responsible for this.

Which made the anger I feel toward her ten times stronger.

I stormed over to Diane, and she smiled up at me.

“Good morning, Colson.”

I shot my best fake smile back at her as I replied, “Hi, Mrs. Patterson.” I gestured to the paper. “Do you mind if I take a look at the first page?”

She handed it right over.

All the blood in my body ran cold as I stood frozen in the middle of the café, reading the article. When I finished, I stormed out of there without a second thought, leaving my coffee and sandwich behind.

That was forty minutes ago. Now, I’m at the station, sitting in the same spot I’ve been in since I got here—in front of Chief’s office, waiting for him to arrive so I can show him the article.

Aside from when I first told him about Holland a month ago, she hasn’t come up at all.

Dom has kept the investigation with her quiet, so aside from him, Beau, and me, no one here knows what’s been going on beyond the fact that Holland suspects it might be arson.

I’d hoped we’d be able to keep that part under wraps from the rest of the town until Holland either finally gave up and left or found some solid evidence.

But given the article currently taunting me, she had other plans.

The tension in my shoulders has only increased in the time I’ve been sitting here, and every time my eyes catch on that headline, the anger burning in the pit of my stomach gets a little bit stronger.

It’s one thing for her to come in here and start asking questions, but to write an article speculating arson for the whole town to read?

Everything she said may be the truth, but it’s the fact that she did this without giving anyone warning and without any real proof that’s fuelling my current rage. She had no right to share her speculations so publicly, and I’m terrified about how people are going to respond.

She’s damn good at pushing boundaries. She said in the article that she didn’t want to spread paranoia, yet that’s exactly what this is going to do. The article is going to tear through the town and cause everyone to second guess each other, which is the last thing we need in a time like this.

If there’s one good thing about it though, it’s that I’d be shocked if she’s still here come week’s end.

I still have yet to tell anyone else about her lie in favour of giving her the benefit of the doubt, and now I may not have to.

She’s painted herself as the enemy without my help.

This town doesn’t like outsiders as it is, and they definitely won’t stand for someone coming in and accusing one of their own of being an arsonist.

Another twenty minutes pass before Chief Whitlock shows up at eight o’clock on the dot.

“Caldwell. Can I help you with something?” he asks when he spots me, unlocking the door to his office and pushing his way inside.

I stand, following him in. He sets his things down and takes a seat behind the desk, and I place the article down in front of him.

“Have you read this?” I ask, pointing to the newspaper.

He glances up at me before picking up the paper, skimming the page. His brows pull together as he asks, “This by that journalist you warned me about last month?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thought she left.”

I shake my head.

“Damn it.” His jaw flexes as he reads. When he finishes, he glances up and holds the paper out to me. “Well, Caldwell, looks like you were right. She is becoming a problem. Can you take care of this?”

My brows pull together. “How do you want me to do that?”

Whitlock shakes his head. “Just do what you have to do to get rid of her. With the fires happening as often as they have been, I don’t have time to do it myself, and this article is only going to cause more mayhem.”

“You got it, sir.” I clench my jaw and make my way out of his office, closing the door behind me. Then I head out the front door of the station toward my truck, passing Liv and Dom on my way.

“Col, you’re going the wrong way,” Dom teases as I march toward them.

I stop in front of Dom and hand him the article. “You see this?”

He takes it from me, his face falling as he reads. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, and she’s not who she says she is. I don’t know her story, but I do know that Holland Rhodes is not her real name.”

The words I’ve been keeping to myself for the past two weeks fall from my lips before I have a chance to stop them. This article is showing Holland’s true colours, and Dom deserves to know who he’s been working with.

Dom’s jaw falls open, his features full of anger as I continue walking backwards toward my truck.

“Gotta take care of business. Hold the fort down ’til I’m back.”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant,” Liv calls back, uncertainty written across her face.

I jog the rest of the way down the driveway and hop in my truck, taking off in the direction of The Scarlet Inn.

On my way there, my phone rings. When I glance at the screen, my sister’s name lights up. I hit the answer button on the steering wheel, and she starts talking before I can get a word in.

“Don’t tell me you’re on your way to the inn,” Cass says, panic laced in her tone.

I say nothing.

“Col, what the hell are you going to do?”

I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “This woman has caused enough problems for this town. She’s out of her damn mind, Cass, and it’s time someone does something about it.”

Cass’s voice is nervous as she says, “I thought you were beginning to trust her.”

I scoff. “I was starting to believe her, and despite this article, I still do. But I don’t trust her, and all chances of that went down the drain the moment she decided telling people about her theory was more important than actually finding proof for it.”

“That’s not what this was. ”

That gives me pause. “What do you mean? You read the article, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s why I called. She told me about it last week, and as much as it may cause people to panic, I think it’s good the town knows. It’ll get their attention. She was brave to finally say what many of us have been thinking over the past few months.”

“Wait, you knew about this?”

“I hadn’t read it, but she told me she was writing it.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“No, because I knew you’d react like this. She’s not a bad person, regardless of the fact that you’ve convinced yourself she is. Publishing this article was her way of finally making people listen.”

“You can’t be serious.” I scoff. “I knew you were becoming friends with her, but are you telling me you actually think she wrote this as an attempt to help ?”

Cassidy is silent for a moment, as if she’s trying to figure out what to say next. “Yes—the article makes some good points. And I think if you take a minute to look past her job, you might start asking the same questions.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this right now,” I growl. “We’ll see how you feel about it when panic ensues, and our workload increases tenfold.” As I turn into The Scarlet’s parking lot, I simply add, “Gotta go, Cass. We’ll finish this conversation later.”

“Colson, wait?—”

I hang up before she finishes her thought.

IS EMBER GROVE BURNING BY DESIGN?

By Holland Rhodes

Ember Grove, British Columbia — Fires are no stranger to this town. Year after year, they brace for fire season, aware of the risks that come with living in such a beautiful yet volatile region. But this year, something feels different.

In the past two months, Ember Grove has seen an unprecedented number of wildfires—eight in total.

Four of those were confirmed to have started from lightning, but the other four—the larger four—have ignited under circumstances that defy the usual explanations.

No lightning strikes, no unattended campfires, no careless spark from a grill.

The fires seem to spring from nowhere, consuming everything in their path.

And yet, no one seems willing to ask the hard question: Could this be arson?

I know how this sounds. Accusing someone of deliberately setting fires in this community—a community I’ve been told I know nothing about—is a heavy claim. But sometimes, an outsider is the only one able to see things for what they truly are. As a journalist, I’ve learned to trust the patterns.

The patterns here are hard to ignore.

The fires have all started in remote areas, within a 2,000-hectare radius in which Ember Grove is directly centred.

Each ignition site is far away from major roads or campsites, where accidental ignition seems highly unlikely.

People here have been leaning toward these being holdover fires, which I suppose is not outside of the realm of possibility.

However, I’ve visited these scenes with someone who knows a lot about fire investigation, and we’ve found no signs of lightning strikes.

Consider this: In a town as small as Ember Grove, eight wildfires in eight weeks should raise alarms. But instead of investigating further, the conversation has centred on “unfortunate weather conditions” and “dry forest floors.”

I’m not saying it’s impossible for this to be a freak fire season. But I owe it to the people whose lives and homes are at risk to consider every possibility.

In addition to these wildfires, the barn at Welland Ranch was set aflame a few days ago, marking it as the ninth fire EGFD has fought this season.

For those who know about the history of Welland Ranch and the significance of fire on the property, you know that it would be one hell of a coincidence for it to spontaneously catch fire—and on the thirty-year anniversary since the first fire there, no less.

Which brings me to my next question: Why would someone set the fires?

The motivations behind arson are complex, and wildfire arson even more so. Some do it for financial gain, like insurance fraud or land development schemes. Others seek attention or a twisted sense of power. And sometimes, the reasons are deeply personal, rooted in anger or revenge.

Ember Grove isn’t the kind of place you’d expect to harbour a criminal like this. But even small towns have their secrets, don’t they?

Raising this question might make me unpopular, but I’m already unwanted here, and staying silent feels worse. If there’s even a chance that these fires are being set intentionally, someone owes it to this town to ask the uncomfortable questions.

That’s what I’m doing.

I’m not here to point fingers or spread paranoia. I’m here to spark a conversation. Because if I’m wrong, the only harm done is to my own career. But if I’m right, every day this town waits to find the culprit could cost lives.

So, Ember Grove, this is my question to you: Do you want to bury your heads in the ash? Or do you want to start asking the hard questions too?