Walking on Her Grave (Rogue River Novella, Book 4) (2 page)

“Everything all right?” Seth asked over the silver hood of the vehicle.

“Awfully quiet out here.” Carly surveyed the dirt beach and rocky shoreline of the Rogue River. Two hundred and fifteen miles long from Crater Lake to the Pacific Ocean, the Rogue flowed right past their little town of Solitude. Other than the rush of water over rock and the whisper of the hot breeze through the foliage, the forest was unusually hushed. Carly usually felt at peace in the woods, but today she was wired tighter than a zip line through the canopy. Something felt off. Lord, she was as bad as her mother, having random
feelings
of doom. Carly was intentionally spending an evening alone with her estranged husband for the first time since they’d separated six months before. That was more than enough to set her nerves on edge. Plus, her nerves were still rattled after her visit with Alex Rollins this morning. Premonitions were not required.

“That’s the point.” Seth rounded the vehicle. “I want trout, and this is the best spot on the river for rainbow.”

Carly didn’t believe for a second that he’d chosen this particular place because of the fishing. This was also
their
spot. This peaceful dogleg of the waterway, where the current slowed and pooled in the elbow of the bend, was the place Carly and Seth had spent many afternoons early in their courtship and marriage. Rainbow and steelhead trout lingered in the pockets of calm water. Trees on both sides offered a bit of privacy. The pitch of the riverbed eliminated the need to wade out beyond ankle-deep. The memories attached to this small section of bank would be harder to navigate.

She leveled him a pointed look. “Nothing is going to happen today other than fishing.”

“I didn’t suggest anything would.” He turned his palms up. Clad in cargo shorts and a snug gray T-shirt, his blond, buff California-surfer look belied his serious personality. “You’re the one with the dirty mind.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re up to.”

“I just want to spend an afternoon with you. That’s all.” But the wicked glint in Seth’s eyes showed that he remembered what they used to do during their
gone fishing
afternoons.

Carly’s face heated. There would be no outdoor nookie today. She couldn’t risk letting him that far back into her life—or heart—just yet. Kicking him out again would be too painful. But how could a man she’d been married to for more than eight years still make her blood run as hot as an outboard motor? Brought together by one of Carly’s cases back in July, they’d spent the summer circling each other in a wary truce. At some point the impasse had to end. Their relationship would either go forward or end. There could be no middle ground.

Hope and fear clogged her throat. She turned away from him and watched the river. Sunlight shimmered on the rippling water. Mimicking the state of their relationship, the Rogue flowed by in an endless stream. On the surface, the river appeared calm, swirling around rocks and eddying in lazy circles. But Carly knew the gentleness of the current was deceptive. The power and force in large bodies of water was easy to underestimate. Those eddies could suck a person to the bottom and hold her there until she drowned. Their marriage had been loud and turbulent like the rapids a quarter mile upstream. With a strong undercurrent, this lull was just as frightening, with just enough hope to destroy her if reconciliation proved impossible.

“Damn it, Carly.” Seth’s fist rapped his thigh. “You have to give me a chance. I love you.”

Love was never our problem
. She could feel Seth’s gaze on her face, but she didn’t meet his intense green eyes. Just as she didn’t respond to his statement. She wasn’t ready. Leaving him had been the hardest decision she’d ever made. Winter had been sheer misery. She and Brianna were just getting on their feet again. Jumping back into a relationship with Seth would be foolish when she’d barely tested the waters with a toe. “You promised just fishing this evening. No pressure.”

He looked away and nodded, frustration tightening his mouth as if he regretted his offer. “I did.”

“Then let’s fish.” She changed her sneakers for wader boots. Seth, with an internal furnace that ran hot year-round, liked to wade wet in a pair of rubber sandals, but Carly’s feet would go numb in sixty-eight-degree water for any length of time. Her boots were also cleated. The Rogue was notorious for its slick riverbed, but Carly knew that wasn’t the slipperiest slope she’d encounter on this outing. She would need to tread with caution.

Dry weeds crunched underfoot as she crossed twenty feet of dusty ground to the rocky riverbank. Normally the foliage was green and lush, but the freakishly hot summer had left the surrounding forest brittle and brown. These last few days of August were just as brutal. The extended weather forecast showed cooler temperatures and rain on the way, but first they had to get through the weekend.

“All right.” Seth brought their rods and tackle box from the SUV and set them on the rocky shoreline. “There’ll be fresh trout for dinner.” He wiped his sweating brow with a bandanna from his pocket. “It had better cool off soon. I’ve had enough of this heat.”

“Once Labor Day passes, the weather should improve.” She wondered if the same was true about their marriage.

She assembled her rod and tied a fly on the line. Water sloshed around her boots as she stepped into the shallows and brought the rod overhead. A few back-and-forth whisks sent the line soaring out over the water. She played the fake insect across the rippled surface, letting the fly lie and jump like a real bug. Seth had been right about one thing—being at the river was therapeutic. She inhaled, the scents of moss and wet rock relaxing her. The river held good memories. She and Seth had spent many days on its banks back when they’d had free time, before their marriage had been strained by parenthood, dual careers, and his overprotective nature.

The river brought memories of her father back too. He’d taught her to fly-fish on the Rogue. Carly’s heart squeezed. Not a day passed that she didn’t miss her dad.

Giving her space, Seth moved ten yards away and cast out over the water. His muscles shifted under his snug T-shirt, tempting her to sweep a hand across his broad back. She knew how his taut skin would feel and missed the contact with his warm body. Their physical connection had never waned in spite of the difficulties in their marriage. But great sex couldn’t make up for their problems.

She had to admit, he’d made an effort this summer. He’d actually taken at least one day off each weekend to spend time with Brianna, even though his job as an investigator for the county sheriff’s department had been complicated by his appointment to a drug task force. With a drug gang war budding between established dealers on the coast and a new manufacturer somewhere in Solitude, Seth had spent weeks away.

Rogue County had seen a surge in drug-related deaths and crime as a power struggle played out between the rival drug dealers. Her father had been among the casualties. How Bill Taylor, former chief of police and town pillar, had been poisoned by a hallucinogenic compound was still a mystery. The new designer drug, C-22—or bacon, as it was known on the street—was far too easy to overdose on.

Carly pushed the nostalgia from her mind. She was here to clear her head with a few hours of communing with nature. What would she give to pitch a tent in the clearing, beyond the reach of cell phones and responsibilities, and hide for a solid week?

They fished in silence. Water rushed over rocks. A hawk circled overhead, his sharp cry protesting their invasion of his fishing spot. Carly’s muscles relaxed. Her mind calmed. Seth had been right. There wasn’t much an afternoon on the river couldn’t cure, even if the fish weren’t interested.

Seth’s line jerked. He snapped his wrist. “Damn. Missed him. I think it’s too hot for the fish.”

The wind picked up, sending a dead leaf tumbling across the rocks and into the water.

“Maybe.” She took off her broad-brimmed hat and let the breeze cool her head.

Seth reeled in his line. He froze. Water dripped from the tip of his rod as he sniffed the air. “Do you smell smoke?”

Carly inhaled. The faint tinge of burning timber hit her nostrils. “Yes.”

He reeled in his line, his posture shifting from casual to all business in a blink. “We should go. There’s no sense in taking chances. It’s been so hot and dry, a wildfire would roll right through here.”

So much for an afternoon of peace.

They broke down their rods, changed back into sneakers, and stowed their equipment in the rear of the SUV. Seth climbed behind the wheel. Starting the engine, he turned the vehicle around.

He cracked the window and gave the air another sniff. “The smell’s getting stronger.”

Carly held on as Seth depressed the gas pedal. The SUV bumped down the dirt lane to the country road that led back to Solitude. A haze of gray crawled across the blacktop. As soon as the tires hit pavement, Seth gunned the engine.

Barely a mile down the road, on the right-hand side, a plume of black smoke snaked into the sky. Carly pointed out the window. “There.”

Seth slowed the truck. “The resort.”

The construction site of the new O’Rourke resort was only a mile downriver from where they’d been fishing.

“That explains why the smell was so strong.” Carly gripped the armrest as Seth steered through a bend in the road and continued to drive toward the smoke.

They sped past a private road marked by an oval-shaped wooden sign. Hand-painted white letters spelled out “O’Rourke’s Lodge at Rogue River.” A pair of upright oars flanked smaller plaques detailing the resort’s activities: white-water rafting, fly-fishing, hiking, and camping.

Frustration swamped Seth. One evening alone with his wife—that’s all he’d wanted. They were both on call far too often. Taking time away from work was a key component in his plan to win her back. Usually Carly sent Brianna off with him and excused herself. This was the first time he’d gotten her alone all summer, and he’d had to enlist his mother-in-law to make his plan work. He understood Carly’s reluctance. He’d been an ass, but he was working hard to overcome his alpha-dog nature. How could he convince Carly of his determination to change if they didn’t spend any time alone together? The universe was conspiring to keep them apart.

The wide construction entrance at the rear of the property opened onto the rural highway. Dry weeds and grass edged the blacktop. The area was ripe for a wildfire. Seth slowed the car. “Keep your eyes open for brush fires.”

He turned into a large gravel clearing. In the final stages of construction, a compound of buildings comprised O’Rourke’s Lodge at Rogue River. The nearly finished main building, designed in the rustic log cabin tradition, would boast a dozen luxurious rooms, a two-story stone fireplace, and a gourmet locally sourced restaurant with indoor/outdoor seating. Porches with low-slung roofs spanned the entire width of the building front and rear. Raised on stilts to prevent water damage when the river flooded, a dozen cabins were strung out along a gravel path from the lodge to the river. Behind the cabins, a small meadow spanned the distance from the compound to the river. Forest flanked the property.

Flames engulfed the rear section of the lodge. Smoke rose in black plumes, blotting out the clear blue sky. On a Thursday evening, the construction vehicles were quiet and still. Seth saw no signs that the fire had spread beyond the building.

Through the open SUV window sirens wailed, thin and distant, over the forest. The fire crackled. Men yelled. Standing on the rear porch, three men sprayed foam from fire extinguishers. But the fire needed more than handheld equipment. Much more. Seth eyed the roof. Flames licked at the heavy beams that supported the structure. Those men needed to get off that porch.

He parked as far from the fire as possible. “Take the truck and go home. I’ll get a ride back into town.” As a county cop, Seth knew just about everyone in local fire and rescue.

“I’m not leaving you here,” Carly said in a tone that didn’t allow for negotiation.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Right back atcha.”

Damn it
. Seth swallowed his curse, just barely. This was the kind of situation that brought out his protective instincts, and those overdeveloped primal urges were a large part of the reason Carly had left him. He wanted to tuck her away somewhere safe while he saved the world. Unfortunately, Carly did not share his vision for her, and he had to have faith in her intelligence and resourcefulness. “All right.”

Her eyes flickered with surprise.

He pointed at Carly. “But you stay here.”

Her nod did not fill him with confidence. She would follow his instructions, unless someone needed help. Then all bets were off, and Carly would jump right in. He should love that about her, but in reality, Seth’s list of people to protect started with Brianna and Carly. Everyone else in the world ranked far below his family.

Seth jumped out of the SUV. He ran for the building, yelling at the men to get away from the fire. But he was too late. A section of porch roof collapsed, crashing in a pile of smoke and flames. Embers showered the clearing. High-pitched screams split the air. Heart slamming into his ribs, Seth ran toward the chaos. A figure stumbled out of the blaze. Flames rose from his khaki shirt and pants. Seth took him to the ground. Someone threw a blanket over them and smothered the flames. Carly.

He left her to care for the man and lurched forward, sprinting for the section of burning building where he’d last seen the remaining two figures. He should wait for the fire department, but the men inside would be dead before the fire trucks arrived.

A single leap took him over the three steps and onto the collapsed floorboards of the porch. The men had been about ten feet inside the roofline. They couldn’t be far away.

“Where are you?” Seth coughed as smoke billowed around him. Visibility was barely a few feet. The heat seared his skin. His eyes and lungs burned, and his vision blurred. He crouched. Listening through the crackle of fire, he moved toward a scream. A man lay on his back, his legs trapped under a fallen beam. Seth skirted a burning pile of debris. He squatted and heaved the beam to one side. Grabbing the man by the arms, Seth hefted him over one shoulder. He ran for the clearing and carefully deposited the injured man on the ground next to the first victim. Carly smothered a few burning patches of clothing with her blanket. Seth forced his legs to straighten. Coughing, he turned back toward the fire.