Dangerous Season

Driving down the two-lane highway into Winfield, Sheriff Keir Harding yawned in the bright early-morning light. Friday was the first day of the Memorial Day weekend and the kickoff of the summer tourist season. Each challenging summer Winfield's population swelled at least ten times. And this was his first summer as sheriff. That must explain why he'd awakened this morning both tired and keyed up--as if toeing the starting line at a race, yet groggy.Coffee, I just need coffee to wake up. At this thought, the attractive image of a tall, slender blonde pouring fragrant coffee into a mug came to mind. But fortunately, a familiar red-and-white sign, shaped like a lighthouse, caught his eye. The unique sign marked Ollie's, the local gas station convenience store. Now it almost flagged him down like a NASCAR pit crew.That's right. I need gas, too. And I really don't need her fancy coffee. "Yes, but her fancy coffee is so good," a persuasive voice whispered inside him. Resolutely, he pulled into Ollie's and up to a gas pump. The place looked deserted. Many tourists were still sleeping in after the long Thursday-night drive or flight north. Even more would be traveling north tonight. He got out of his Winfield County Sheriff Jeep. The air smelled fresh and its chill was invigorating. He reached for the gas pump, when suddenly he heard a loud boom. Jerking back, he looked around the gas pumps. From the rear of the store, flames leaped high. He bounded inside the convenience store, past the empty counter and toward the rear. There, he found Beau, Ollie's teenage grandson, incoherently shouting while unlocking a fire extinguisher cap. The back door stood open and he could see bright orange flames outside. Heat rolled inside. "Are you okay?, Keir demanded. "Anyone else here?" "Nobody else!" The kid began advancing toward the doorway, competently spraying white foam at the flames. "Shut that door when you can!" Keir reversed himself, ran out and around to the back. When he got there, the kid had moved outside and was spraying foam onto wooden pallets stacked around the door. The contents of the nearby dark green Dumpster were ablaze, too. But the fire had nowhere else to spread in the asphalt alley. Black smoke roiled skyward. Heat buffeted Keir. Ash and sparks danced overhead. Rather than waste time waiting for the volunteer fire company, Keir located the outside faucet and hose. Picking up the spray-nozzle of the hose, he turned the water on full force. He sprayed the pallets and while ad-Lyn Cote 9 vancing, sprayed inside the Dumpster. When he got close enough, he slammed down its blasted, twisted and warped plastic lid. From the side, he funneled more water inside the Dumpster. Within minutes, he and the kid had the fire out. The soggy, still-warm remains hissed with steam. "Wow," Beau said, lowering the now-empty, red fire extinguisher. "Am I ever glad Gramps replaced the old extinguisher last week!" "What happened?, Keir kept wetting down the smoldering remains of the charred pallets, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. "How did this start?" "It was really weird. I just opened the back door and bang-whoosh!" The kid turned back toward the door. "I gotta call my grandpa. He's going to be really ticked." "Don't give him another heart attack," Keir ordered. "Tell him the fire's out. And that I'm here already investigating." "Right!" Cold water still splashing his shoes, Keir kept the hose in his hand as he edged around the scorched area. He eyed the paint-blistered metal rear door. After twisting the hose nozzle off, he squatted down to examine something lying on the ground below the door's threshold. A very thin wire--a trip wire. Someone had strung a length of wire across the back entrance. Keir's stomach tightened. He rose and followed the wire, picking his way through the blackened dCote, Lyn is the author of 'Dangerous Season ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373442379 and ISBN 0373442378.