Page 8 of Wild Embers
I nod my head. “Why not stay at Silver Pine Resort? They finished the hotel and have been taking bookings for a few weeks before their grand opening.”
Blake rolls her eyes like the answer is obvious. “Because Moose Gap is cheaper.”
She’s got me there. It costs more than I make in a week to stay just a couple of nights.
Silver Pine is a ski resort in the making. Neil Redford purchased the land six months ago and has been working nonstop to get the resort up and running. Once the zoning for the land changed, Neil jumped on the deal, and it’s been full steam ahead since. Tourism has been good for the town, but not for crime.
Continuing with the interview, I question, “What brings you to Evergreen Falls?”
Her face turns more controlled. “Personal business.”
“And that would be,” I prompt her.
“None ofyourbusiness,” she snaps back.
Her sass has all my blood rushing south, and I don’t like it. Blake is the daughter of my best friend.
Well, myformerbest friend.
Landon died when Blake was young, when I was still just a deputy in the sheriff’s department.
Regardless of Landon being alive or not, I should not be reacting to Blake Jennings this way.
“Why didn’t you call 911 when you saw the fire?”
Blake shrugs a shoulder, turning to stare out the windshield. “It didn’t occur to me.”
My tone sharpens, and my volume rises a pitch. “It didn’t occur to you to call emergency services when you saw a man burning in the middle of a field that’s surrounded by trees? Dry trees. You could’ve been hurt, the fire could’ve gotten out of control.”
Blake’s face snaps back to me. “No. It didn’t occur to me.”
She’s lying.
“Why not?”
Blake squares her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
Heat creeps up the back of my neck. “That’s not an answer, Baby Girl.”
Did I just call her Baby Girl?
“I didn’t think it was necessary.” Blake’s breathing increases.
“That answer keeps you on the suspect list. Try again.” My hand on my truck tightens. I’m sure if it were possible, I’d leave behind a handprint on the metal.
“I didn’t want you to know that I’m here,” Blake shouts, and my chest tightens. She deflates and falls back into the seat. “Besides, it’s not like there was much anyone could do.”
Blake’s confession lands like a punch to my chest.
Ignoring the feeling, I focus on her second statement and tilt my head. “What do you mean?”
She stares down at her lap as she responds. “The fire started when I was driving by. I immediately turned onto the property and came over to help. He wasn’t moving when I got here. I think he was already dead.”
Whoever did this is a cold-hearted killer. That much I know. Even a normal person in their most irate state doesn’t set someone—dead or alive—on fire.
“Could you see who the person was? Did you see anyone fleeing when you drove up? A person on foot or a vehicle?”
Blake shakes her head. “No. The flames were too thick, and there wasn’t a soul in sight when I arrived.”
