She glanced at Carter. He was in full professional mode and handled the chopper with skill. His appearance and happy-go-lucky manner fooled many people and lured criminals into a false sense of security. One thing she could say about Carter is he’d never be called one of the boys. He preferred to be alone, just a man with his dog. He’d sure fooled her but underneath his facade, was a complicated man who hid his emotions. Trained as a deadly force with abilities too many to comprehend, he had a way of looking at things from every angle at the same time. He drove her crazy sometimes, but she had to admit, she admired him.
“You okay?” Carter frowned at her. “Worried about leaving Jaime?”
Jo shook her head. “I’m fine, just admiring the view and Jaime is used to me being away on cases. Now she’s settled in to life in Snakeskin Gully, she is a happy little girl. It’s a great place to raise kids.”
“There’s no substitute to small-town values and close friendships that last a lifetime.” He turned his concentration back to flying the chopper. “The community sure helped me when I went off the grid.” He chuckled. “They acted like they were leaving me alone, but the mailman would sound his horn until he saw me heading to the gate to collect my mail. I’d find care packages from the local church, my prescription filled by the pharmacy, food for Zorro. I was being left alone to recover but I was really never alone.”
This was the first time Carter had discussed the PTSD he’d suffered after leading a mission resulting in the death of three children. He’d chosen two years of isolation, unable to cope with the flashbacks. Jo understood the condition well, the triggers that plunged a person back into a recurring nightmare would always be lurking in their subconscious. She kept her gaze ahead. Confiding in her about his condition was a breakthrough. He’d grown to trust her. “Do you figure your handler arranged to make sure you had supplies?”
“The meds and dog food would have come from him for sure but the local minister often came by to visit.” Carter cleared his throat. “I was rude and intimidating back then but he kept on coming back. The man is a saint. He never gave me the ‘it’s God’s will,’ crap. We spoke about baseball mainly and he helped me turn my cabin into a home. He ended the chaos with simple logic and friendship. I owe him bigtime.” He lifted his chin scanning ahead. “I see flares, we’re close to the coordinates. We made it ahead of time.”
They set down in a field of wheatgrass surrounded by trees, the wind from the chopper giving the impression they were landing in a turbulent green sea. When the door slid open the smell of fire filled the air in a choking stench. All fires had their own signature. A housefire carried the smell of burning wood and textiles, the sharp toxic aftertaste of molten plastic fumes and worst of all, the stench of burning hair and flesh. Jo reached into her pocket for a mask as a blast of ash-filled air hit her face, her senses picking up the awful devastation awaiting them. Moments later, a sheriff’s cruiser sped out to meet them. Jo climbed from the chopper and shook the man’s hand and introduced Carter. “Nice to meet you. Walk us through the crime scene.”
“I’ll leave that to the ME. He’s pulled rank on us, ma’am. Keeping us right away outside the tape. He said he doesn’t want anyone tripping a wire. I hope you clear the area soon. The smell is getting so bad my deputies are getting sick to their stomachs.”
“Maybe it’s time to get real men to take their place.” Carter peered at the sheriff over his sunglasses. “How did Wolfe determine it was homicide if he didn’t examine the victims?”
“The explosion blew out the front of the house. The townsfolk said they seen an orange mushroom. There’s no gas here, so the firefighters turned off the power and doused the flames. They kept their distance in case it blew again. There wasn’t too much they could do. It was well ablaze when they arrived.” The sheriff helped load equipment and their bags into the trunk of his cruiser. “The ME used binoculars to view the scene and then told me to call you. He’s been on scene since we called him. He’ll be glad to see you.”
“We’ll need a list of witnesses and names of the people who called it in.” Carter frowned. “Who was first responder?”
“That would be me.” The sheriff tipped back his hat to look up at Carter. “I called the fire department and the ME and we’ve been on scene since.”
“Were there any bystanders?” Carter scanned the area.
“A few and we moved them on.” The sheriff’s cheeks pinked. “I did think to take down their names but I didn’t record the vehicles that passed by.”
Jo rolled her eyes at Carter and climbed into the cruiser. “Have you gotten experience in arson before, or bombings at all, Sheriff?”
“Can’t say that I have.” The sheriff drove over the uneven ground and through the trees toward a still smoking ranch house. “We’ve had fires, car wrecks, and bar fights mostly. All the action happens in Black Rock Falls but that county is huge. Our population is ten thousand give or take, theirs is over a hundred thousand, maybe more with them off the grid in Stanton Forest. I guess that’s why the ME called in their fire chief.”
“So, the answer is ‘no’?” Carter stared at the man. “If we’re taking the lead in this case, we’ll need accommodation in town and transport. Will our chopper be secure?”
“It can’t be seen from the road, and I figure with FBI written all over it, most people would be too scared to go near it.” Crenshaw shrugged. “I’m not sure about your other needs, best you go into Black Rock Falls and bunk down there. They have an airport to stow your chopper and car rentals.”
“What do you say, Jo?” Carter looked over his shoulder at her.
Jo met his gaze. “I guess we speak to Shane and see what he needs from us first.” As they neared the building and parked between a fire department vehicle and the ME’s white van, Jo slid out of the seat and went to the trunk. She grabbed a crime scene kit and opened Carter’s duffle. “Here.” She handed him his explosives gear and mask. “I don’t want to sound like your mother but be careful.”
“I’m always careful, Jo, but thanks for caring.” Carter pulled on his protective gear and grinned at her. “Just keep everyone back. Flying body parts are deadly.”
“I sure will.” Jo made her way to Wolfe who was in deep conversation with a firefighter in his late forties. The men turned as she walked toward them with Carter close behind. “Nice to see you again, Shane.”
“Hey, Jo, Carter. Thanks for coming by so fast.” Wolfe indicated to the firefighter. “This is Chief Matt Thompson, the fire chief out of Black Rock Falls. Once you’ve cleared the area, he’ll do a structural safety assessment before we go inside. Matt, this is Agent Jo Wells, Agent Ty Carter, and Zorro.”
They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Jo looked past them to the two deputies, who both looked green, and turned to Carter. “Okay. What do you need, Carter?”
“Nothing unless Zorro finds an explosive device.” Carter unclipped Zorro’s harness and the dog quivered in anticipation. His big brown eyes fixed on Carter. “He’ll tell me if he finds anything and then, I’ll defuse it and we’ll do another sweep to clear the area.” He gave the dog a command by flicking his fingers.