Flames from Ashes Page 11

  He backed into the street. “It takes commitment and dedication to make a relationship work. As much as you love someone, there are times you hate each other’s guts. You’ll be shocked at how easily you can push each other’s buttons without realizing it until it’s too late. It’s about teamwork, communication, and compromise. It’s about remembering when it was new and exciting but also a little scary, and understanding it’s so much better now than it ever was because you know your life partner so well.”

  Right now, Sandy got an F for communication across the board.

  “Damn, Tim. I’m finding levels of you I never knew existed.” She pulled her phone from her back pocket.

  “Texting Clint?”

  “I am. Maybe we can be the new Tim and Trish.”

  “Be careful what you wish for.”

  Sandy debated what to say. Telling Clint she loved him enough to put up with his mother didn’t sound right, no matter how true it might be. So she settled for Sending you my first I love you text.

  By the time they reached Eleanor Clifford’s home on the other side of town, their snack bags were empty. Sandy’s first impression of the house was that it lacked character. The beige coloring blended into the desert landscape, also devoid of any adornments except for the tan rock covering the front yard. Eleanor stood at the end of the driveway. Her black purse pulled down one shoulder. The keys in her hand dangled from the biggest pair of fuzzy pink-and-black dice Sandy had ever seen.

  “Guess there’s no chance of losing those keys.” Tim snickered as he pulled to a stop.

  Eleanor wasted little time hoisting herself into the backseat. Once she’d secured her seat belt, they were on their way, and Clint’s responding text came through.

  I hope it’ll be the first of many. Love you too. Thanks for putting up with my mom. You’re a much better person than I am.

  A giggle bubbled up inside her. Sandy kept it locked there.

  Eleanor released a hard breath. Sandy tensed.

  “My daughter-in-law called a few minutes ago. I, of course, mentioned you. My sincere apologies. I was unaware of your situation. I find it quite disheartening that Clint didn’t share any of this with his family.”

  It was going to be a long-ass drive. “I didn’t share it with my family either. It was an intensely private matter, and I’d hoped to keep it so.” The news media had other ideas, and if Sandy ever got her hands on the sheriff’s deputy who’d leaked her rape to reporters, his or her head was going to roll.

  “We didn’t even know he was dating anyone, much less expecting a child with her.” Venom laced every word. “As much as he’s always longed for a family of his own, one would think he would be overjoyed to share the news. But then, he didn’t tell us when Marjorie got pregnant either. Of course, considering their situation at the time, another child wouldn’t have been a godsend.”

  Tim flexed his fingers on the steering wheel and cracked his neck from side to side. Sandy wondered how long he’d stay silent.

  “Some couples prefer to pass the three-month period before announcing they’re expecting.” At least that was Sandy’s experience within her family.

  “True.”

  Wow, a semiagreeable comment from the woman. Wonders never cease.

  “How long have you two been seeing each other?”

  Truth or lie? “Two months.”

  “One would think you would have been more—” Eleanor snapped forward as far as the seat belt allowed. “Good God, is Clint even—” She waved off what they all knew she was going to ask and sank back. “I’m not surprised. Clint’s always been a sucker for a damsel in distress.”

  Tim pulled to the curb and twisted around. He leveled a look at Eleanor that Sandy had rarely seen—one reserved for the biggest screw-ups in the department.

  “I understand you’ve got a lot going on in your life right now, Mrs. Clifford. But Sandy has been through hell and is still trying to find her way back. Clint’s been by her side every step of the way. Last night, the two of them nearly lost their lives when someone set fire to Sandy’s house. If it weren’t for Sandy’s skill and quick thinking, your son would be dead. They spent the night in the hospital. Yet not once have you asked about their welfare. Not once have you commented on the tremendous loss heaped on top of what they were already dealing with. Frankly, considering your behavior today, I can see why Clint wouldn’t tell you one damn thing. They need support, not to be chewed to the bone. Now, I have one question for you, and once you answer it, I don’t want to hear another cruel word out of your mouth. Do we go on to the homestead to evaluate it, or do we call it quits right now? Because honestly, I’m not so inclined to be cordial and accommodating to you, no matter how much I want the training experience for my crews. So, what’s it going to be?”

  “Continue on, please,” she muttered.

  Tim turned around, rolled his shoulders, and pulled back onto the street.

  “Sorry. I’d forgotten about the fire. I’m sure it was a harrowing experience. I must apologize yet again.”

  Sandy bet it was killing her to do so too.

  “Odd that Annie didn’t mention it. She stays on top of the news. Well, I was pressed for time. I’m sure she would have gotten around to it.”

  One would think those would have been the first words out of Annie’s mouth. But no, she’d apparently decided dissecting Sandy and Clint’s relationship was a higher priority. Sandy was beginning to see why Clint disliked her.

  “What is it that your parents do for a living that they could be here in the middle of the day with you?” she asked.

  Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. So did the muscles in Sandy’s neck.

  “My parents are retired.” They’d planned well and worked hard to get to that point. With six kids to raise, it hadn’t been easy.

  “Do you have siblings?”

  Let the interrogation begin. “I have five brothers, all older than me.”

  “And you, Mrs. Clifford?” Tim asked. “What do you and your husband do?”

  Yeah, not so nice when it’s directed back at you, is it? Sandy wished she had her visor down to see Eleanor’s expression.

  “Raymond is a roofer. He’d hoped to turn the business over to the boys one day, but none of them is interested. Each prefers to do his own thing.”

  Tim cocked his head. “And what would that be? We know about Clint’s upholstery shop. It has a stellar reputation.”

  “It does. Though it did help that he bought out a successful business in the first place. However, if it weren’t for him, Tommy wouldn’t have a job. No ambition, that one. He floundered from job to job until Clint opened his shop. I don’t know how Clint puts up with him, but then I’m sure he remembers how Tommy used to be his little shadow. Clint’s much too sentimental. He and Chuck never got along. Still don’t. It only got worse once Clint returned to town.”

  “Returned to town?” he asked.

  “Clint was in the Marine Corps for six years,” Sandy answered.

  “Ah.” He nodded. “And your other son?”

  “Chuck was determined to make that homestead work. The only thing ever produced there was misery and those three kids. He stays at home with the kids while Annie works. She’s a freelance nurse and works mostly out of Desert Regional. I was mighty glad when they finally called it quits on that old place and moved back to town. But it took a toll on Chuck, sucked the life right out of him. He hasn’t been the same since, even after five years. Though he has been talking about running for city council. He’s got the mayor’s support too.”

  “And you?” Boy, Tim was relentless. Sandy took notes for future reference.

  “I do seasonal work for the Tax Company. It’s a stressful occupation.”

  Then heaven help them all during tax season. Sandy didn’t want to imagine her any worse than she was now. Silence ensued for a blessed seven minutes, putting them outside town and halfway to their destination. Eleanor’s intake of breath in the backseat warn
ed Sandy it wasn’t going to last. Sandy twisted around as best she could to face her before she could speak.

  “Is there anything in particular we should know about the property, Eleanor?” Sandy dared her to challenge the use of her first name. “What was it used for? Are there any functional wells? Any hazardous materials?”

  “Well…” Eleanor tapped her finger against her chin and stared into space as if she’d find the answers there. “All four wells dried up over the years or went bad or something, until Chuck and Annie had no choice but to leave. There was a big orchard, but that died before they took over. It was cut down for firewood, but the stumps are still there as far as I know. There’s equipment in the barn they used in farming hay. It’s in good condition, from what I’ve been told, but they can’t seem to find anyone to buy it. There were electrical lines to all three buildings. That would be the barn, the house, and the store. They had propane too. I haven’t been out there in a good five years. Too desolate. Gives me the creeps.”

  Sandy scribbled notes on her pad. Equipment and farming meant the possibility of hazardous materials. Old electric lines and the propane tank might also be an issue. Considering the age of the buildings, asbestos might be present as well. Depending on where the orchard had been, the stumps could hinder firefighting efforts. It’d be a good obstacle to train around, though. Others things present would be broken glass, rusted tools, and weathered wood.

  “Was there an outhouse?” she asked.

  Eleanor’s gaze hit hers. “A nasty sucker that stank to high heaven and was filled with black-widow spiders and the occasional snake. Chuck joked about it being the second bathroom. It wasn’t so funny when they had to use it when their septic tank backed up. Now that I think about it, that was the last straw for Annie. The old septic tank was corroded, and they had to fill it in and dig for a new one.” She tapped her chin, looking for those answers again. “Everything’s a mishmash. It wasn’t a good time for our family. The issues with the homestead, Tommy arrested for drugs, Marjorie gone missing, Annie pregnant yet again. Felt like if anything could go wrong, it did.”

  “Do you know where the new and old septic tanks are located?” Sandy poised her pen over the paper. She knew the answer before she got it.

  Eleanor flicked her fingers through the air. “You’d have to ask Chuck.”

  “Is he the owner?”

  Eleanor glared at her. “Raymond and I are the owners. Haven’t you been listening?”

  “Listening and understanding the dynamics are two different things,” Sandy calmly replied. “If you are the owners, the decision to sell is yours. Yet Chuck seems to be in charge of the property, and Clint seems to be the one in charge of what appears to be a family decision.”

  Eleanor snapped forward. “I want this burden gone. Clint isn’t in charge of anything, but he’s the only one with any sense where this is concerned. If he’d stayed here in the first place, instead of running out when I needed him most, we wouldn’t have this issue.” She pinched her lips together, deepening the lines around her mouth. “I was this close to getting Raymond to agree to put the property up for sale when Clint took off to join the Marine Corps. Chuck took over the place, and that was that. I thought for certain we could unload it when Chuck and Annie gave up. But no,” she sneered. “Clint’s focus was on Marjorie leaving, the welfare of children that weren’t even his, and that stupid business. He had a business his father would have gladly turned over to him one day. Instead he had to buy his own and leave his father high and dry. No one would listen to reason, and I lost out. I will not lose the opportunity again. Nothing and no one is going to sidetrack me this time.”

  Call her paranoid, but Sandy took that as a threat. If this was what Clint had put up with his whole life, no wonder he’d joined the Marine Corps. The question was… Why the hell had he come back?

  “Well, I hope it works out for you,” Sandy told her. “I need to let you know upfront that on the surface, there do appear to be obstacles to the fire department using this as a training facility. There must be an asbestos inspection. We’d have to verify the location of the septic tanks and outhouse. Hazardous wastes have to be removed, as would any farm equipment. All of which could be more expense than you’d care to bear.”

  “Then I’ll continue to pray to God this purchase goes through. SunSpots can deal with it.” She tucked her arms over her chest and stared out the window, ending their conversation.

  Sandy turned around and settled back into her seat. A rush of nausea swept over her with the movement. She folded her hands over her notepad and stared ahead. Thankfully, it passed quickly.

  The white barn’s arched peak came into view as they topped the rise. The road evened out before them, nothing but a black ribbon cutting through a semibarren landscape. The Clifford homestead was the only sign civilization existed somewhere—the general store near the road, the house and barn set a little farther back. Even from a distance, Sandy could see new plywood—a stark contrast to the weathered wood around it—covering the windows on the house and barn structures. Trees that had once provided shade stretched skeletal limbs against the blue sky. No fence marked boundaries. Why would there be one, when there was nothing else for miles?

  A sign—EDGE OF TOWN—dangled from one of the two four-by-four posts in front of the store. The cinder-block building had been a haven for travelers in its day. Faded yellow paint on the side advertised food, drinks, last stop. No boards covered the store. The cement structure would have made that difficult to do. It was possible but required effort, something she suspected Chuck didn’t want to put forth. The place was wide open with every window broken and the front door more for show than function, since it seemed to be barely hanging on its hinges.

  Tim turned left onto the dirt road threading its way through the property. “We’ll check out the house and barn first, then come back to the store.”

  Fresh tire tracks led the way in. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see them. Scrapers would be looking for things to steal. Teenagers on a date would be looking for a place to make out. Then there were those who’d simply be curious and nosy. The road forked left and right. The tire tracks followed both ways. Tim took the right fork to the house and parked at the line of rocks that marked the driveway. One thing immediately hit Sandy as out of place—the new digital electric meter flashing through its cycle.

  “Is there still power to this place?” Tim asked, cutting the engine. He’d seen it too.

  “How the hell should I know?” Eleanor opened her door and stepped out. “Is this going to—”

  A gunshot echoed through the buildings. Sandy and Tim ducked. Eleanor went down.

  “Oh my God,” she cried. “I’ve been shot!”

  Adrenaline flooded Sandy’s system. She launched herself into the backseat, hoping to be able to access Eleanor without becoming a victim.

  “First-aid kit’s behind the seat.” Tim shoved his door open, using the cover of the open rear door to crouch next to Eleanor. “Upper shoulder wound. Looks like a through shot. I think it came from the direction of the store.”

  That made sense, since it was the only open building, but there’d been no sign of any vehicle when they’d arrived. Now it was impossible to see the parking area from their location.

  “I’m going to pull you closer to me, ma’am,” Tim told her.

  “It hurts! It hurts!”

  Sandy yanked the first-aid packet and a sealed bag of towels from behind the seat. Stretching onto her stomach, she leaned down to assist. “If we keep her low and hugging the truck, I can pull her inside.”

  “I can’t move! It hurts!”

  “Ma’am, I need you to work with us. This is what we’re trained to do. Let us do our jobs. Help us do our jobs.”

  “Okay,” she wailed. “Why would anyone want to shoot me? Why?”

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with you, ma’am.”

  Alarm spiked Sandy’s adrenaline. “I was told he was in the hospital
.”

  “He has a sister.”

  Fuck. “Would have been nice to know that before now.” Sandy slapped a fresh towel into Tim’s outstretched hand. “I’ll call it in.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sandy hunkered down in the back of Tim’s truck. Paramedics, and the fire truck accompanying them, had long since left once Eleanor had been airlifted to Desert Regional. It hadn’t taken any time for word to filter out to the rest of the station that Sandy was in the area. Less time than that for the calls and texts to start coming in again. She’d answered only Gina’s call, asking that they give her time to process everything that had happened. Gina assured her the phone calls would stop but not the texts.

  “Because we love and care about you and don’t want you to forget it for one second. We are here for you. And you’d do the same for us.”

  Sandy couldn’t argue that one.

  Two units of sheriff’s deputies had arrived in record time and cleared the scene minutes before the paramedics arrived. So far they hadn’t found a shooter, but they’d been trailing what she’d guessed were footprints in the desert while Detective Posner stood guard over everyone in their absence. Citizens Patrol volunteers kept traffic moving and the access road to the homestead blocked.

  Tim called Trish while they waited to be cleared to leave. Sandy notified Clint via text, since he didn’t pick up. If she’d known which attorney he’d gone to, she would have called the office directly. Eleanor, injured as she was, had still managed to call her husband, thwarting paramedics’ efforts to help her. She was adamant that no one come to the hospital until after the family meeting, insisting it be held at all costs and citing this incident as proof they must let go. Sandy was cruel enough to wonder if Eleanor had set the whole thing up to get her point across.

  She ran the sequence of events through her mind. Nothing made sense. As far as they knew, they hadn’t been followed. But they hadn’t been looking, either, and there was traffic on the road. There had been no vehicles in sight anywhere on the property, but then it was impossible to see any cars at the store from the house. Someone could have pulled in after they did—though Tim would have noticed a dust trail if that were the case. And if someone had done that, they would have had to hurry in order to get into position to make the shot. No one knew she and Tim had been coming here except for her parents, Clint, and Eleanor.