Page 8 of Ink and Ashes

Colson

T he seventh fire of our season started on a Monday, and it took another six days to get it controlled.

Three of those were spent digging the line, while the other three were spent chasing the fire down to the lake and putting out any spot fires that popped up across the barrier.

Now that the fire’s controlled, the mop-up crews with BCWS have come to give us a hand.

It’ll be up to them to extinguish the flames over the next few days.

Our team will monitor the fire line until it’s out and for some time after to make sure it continues to hold, but we don’t need to be there constantly.

We were out this morning, but after doing a few walks of the line and scanning for hotspots outside the barrier, we made our way back.

The volunteers who could stay are still here, and we’ll all be spending the night here so we can head out again first thing tomorrow.

For now, Beau is running drills with the team, while I’ve been working on getting my report for these past few days written.

It’s been a lot mentally, knowing that despite our best efforts, these fires show no sign of slowing down.

Late spring normally grants us some reprieve from the flames, but this year it’s shaping up to be the worst month yet.

All we can do is fight the fires and cross our fingers that the rain will come soon.

In desperate need of a break from paperwork, I decide to head to the bay to get some cleaning done.

The trucks may not have reached the fire this time, but that didn’t stop them from being coated in a layer of soot and ash from the smoke in the air.

It’s probably pointless to clean it now given that we’ll be right back on scene tomorrow, but it’s a simple, mind-numbing task, and a much-needed break from everything else going on right now.

Besides, the sooner it shines again, the better. So I grab the cleaning supplies and make my way over to our apparatus. Whistling the tune of “Tennessee Whiskey,” I get to work scrubbing the grime off the engine.

I’m about halfway through cleaning when the voice that’s been haunting me for over two weeks, accompanied by the clicking of heels on the app floor, calls to me.

“Hi, Lieutenant.”

I let out a sigh as I turn around, spotting none other than Holland Rhodes.

I knew she’d be back.

Dressed in a light pink blouse, charcoal grey skirt, and nude heels, with a notebook in one hand and a pen in the other, no one has ever looked less like they belong here than she currently does.

And I plan on making damn sure she knows it.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask, hopping off the truck as she walks across the floor toward me.

Standing a few feet away from me, she leans against a section of the rig I just finished cleaning. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to keep from yelling at her not to touch it.

“You always talk to civilians that way?” she asks, a hint of humour in her voice.

“Only the ones who show up again after being told to leave,” I say, wiping my hands on a nearby rag. “And I’m not talking about the station, I’m talking about the town. You know there’s an evacuation alert. So what the hell are you still doing here?”

“I told you—I’m here to look into the fires.

I’m well aware of the evacuation alert, but I’m also aware that an alert is sent to prepare you for the possibility of an order.

If and when an order is put in place, I’ll leave.

But until then, I’m not going anywhere.” She takes a few steps closer until she’s standing directly in front of me. “Better get used to having me around.”

I grind my teeth together as I stare down at her, a smirk on her face. She’s flirting with me—I know that much. I bet her flirting normally gets her exactly what she wants.

She’s shit out of luck if she thinks she’ll get that from me.

When I say nothing in response, she chuckles. “You’re so insistent on me leaving, yet you refuse to answer my questions. My job would be a hell of a lot easier if you’d help me out.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “And my job would be a hell of a lot easier without reporters constantly showing up and getting in the way.”

“Then point me in the direction of your chief, or literally anyone else willing to help.” She shakes her head, huffing a laugh. “And I told you—not a reporter.”

I scoff. “Investigative journalist, whatever. What’s the difference?”

“Seriously? It’s in the name. Reporters report on the news they’re given. Investigative journalists?—”

“Let me guess—investigate,” I interrupt.

She smirks. “Bingo.”

“And what, exactly, are you planning on investigating here?”

“The fires?” Her brows pull together in confusion. “What else would it be? ”

“Why would the wildfires need to be investigated?”

“To figure out the cause…” She looks me up and down. “How did you make lieutenant?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s called climate change, Rhodes.

British Columbia averages sixteen hundred wildfires per year, and approximately fifty-five percent of those are caused by lightning.

Last year, that number shot up to seventy-one percent.

In Ember Grove, though, that number is ninety.

” I take a step closer to her. “Ninety percent of our fires in the past decade have been caused by lightning. The strikes love to simmer underground, and once everything dries up again, it ignites a holdover fire. That’s what’s been happening over the past few months. ”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I keep talking as I walk toward her.

“Fire Investigation (FI) hasn’t officially labelled the cause of all the fires, but we’ve been doing this for a long time.

We know what to look for. Yes, this town occasionally sees a fire from tourists not being careful, but it’s rare.

The last man-made fire we had was four years ago.

It was an unseasonably warm and dry winter here, and we’ve had an increased number of dry lightning storms too. These fires are not man-made.”

We’re nearly chest-to-chest when I stop.

Her breathing is heavy as she glances up at me. “Confirmed.”

My brows pull together. “What?”

“The last confirmed man-made fire was four years ago. I’ve done some digging though, and I think that’s wrong.

I think that Fire Investigation has gotten lazy with Ember Grove and started labelling every fire as natural or unknown causes because it’s easier.

That doesn’t make it true.” Her tongue darts out over her lips.

“And I know those man-made ones were all labelled as accidents, but that doesn’t mean these ones are. ”

“What exactly are you implying?” I ask, my eyes narrowed.

“That your town might have an arsonist,” she replies nonchalantly, and my stomach bottoms out. I should’ve known she’d be the type to immediately assume arson.

I clench my jaw. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She cocks a brow at me. “Don’t I?”

I grind my teeth together, appalled by both the nerve she possesses to suggest such a thing and the suggestion itself. “There’s no way. No one in this town would do something like that.”

“You don’t know everyone in this town.”

“I do.” I keep my voice low, not wanting any of the guys to hear. “I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s a town of fifteen hundred people. We all know each other.”

“Okay, sure,” she starts, speaking calmly. “You say hi to everyone you pass on the street. You attend town events and could tell me everyone’s name. But you don’t know everyone. You can’t.”

“I know them well enough to know that none would start fires.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

Her argumentative nature only fuels my anger, and I snap. “You know what? No. You don’t know them. You’ve been here for thirty seconds, I’ve been here for thirty years. You don’t know this town. We would do anything for each other. No one here would set these fires.”

She takes a deep breath, letting the tension roll off her in waves. But she doesn’t push further. She simply says, “Okay.”

I swallow roughly, changing the subject. “Any further questions?”

Her tongue darts out over her lips as they quirk into a smile. “Not for you.” Her eyes shift past me. I glance back over my shoulder to see Langley and Adler staring at Holland, drinking up every inch of her body. Just as I knew they would.

My jaw tenses as I turn back to her. “My crew has been instructed not to talk to you.”

She shakes her head. “You gonna reprimand them if they do?”

My jaw flexes. She’s got me there. There haven’t been any legal implications regarding the fires, so aside from the warning I gave them, I can’t actually do anything to stop them from speaking with her. I just have to hope they’ll share whatever she says with me.

“That’s what I thought.” She takes a step past me so we’re shoulder-to-shoulder. “Good talking to you again, Lieutenant.” Her perfectly manicured hand pats me on the chest before she brushes her long, copper locks over her shoulder and struts across the app floor toward the guys.