Western Flame

Chapter 22

Tanner kicked at a frozen chunk of blackened snow, his temper smouldering like the jumbled pile of metal, wood, and hay in front of him. Two firemen and a constable were rummaging in the mess with portable extinguishers. The marshall was beside him, taking notes.

"So you saw the smoke, and grabbed the hose, but when you sprayed the flames, they spread faster?"

"It was like the fire had a mind of its own. It followed a path along the metal side of the building, and then the hay went up like a roman candle the minute it caught," Tanner said.

The early morning had yielded no new information as he had travelled back out to the site, other than the fire had given them a total loss. Jake was already onto insurance and finding a contractor to come clean up. He also said he would check in with Brady. Tanner was left to deal with the actual problem, which was how to find sixty five-footer round grass hay bales to make it to summer. The hay in the feeders that he'd put out yesterday would last a few days, and Harry was bringing up some of the smaller four-footers from the shed near the main barns, but they wouldn't last long.

It was a headache he didn't need.

The marshall furrowed his brow. "It sounds like there was an accelerant. Water won't do diddley if there's oil or gas under where the flame is. Similar to if you have a fire in your pan on the stove, you smother it. Water will just spread the burning droplets of oil."

"Shit," Tanner swore. "How was I supposed to know?"

"You don't use gas as a weed killer out here, do you?" the marshall asked, and Tanner glared at him.

"No, too close to the water source for the cattle. That would be dumb."

They turned at the sound of a truck trundling in, and Harry with a truck and wagon loaded with hay arrived. Tanner and the marshall met the truck as Harry killed the engine and leaned out the door.

"Got somethin' to show you," he said. His face was grim, and Tanner knew that look. Something had happened. He wasn't sure how much more he could deal with before he lost his cool, but he nodded curtly.

Harry strode around to the truck bed, and opened the tailgate. Three fire extinguishers, with foam-crusted holes exploding out their sides were in the back.

"Where were these?" Tanner asked sharply.

"At the road," Harry said, pointing back along the lane. "Saw 'em pokin' out of the snow on the turn."

The marshall turned one with the end of his pen, and sighed. "Mr. West, I think we might be looking at an arson investigation. Dammit."

"Arson." Tanner blinked. "Could that be why the damned hay went so quick? Doused in something?"

"Highly likely, given the means to put out the fire was blatantly taken and destroyed like this. Can I take these?"

Tanner gestured out. They weren't much use to him now. The marshall pulled out gloves from his pocket and hefted them over to his truck, setting them into the back. Tanner shoved his hands in his pockets and coughed, turning away to look out over the field. His fingers curled into fists, the impulse to find a crowbar and beat at something while howling making him clench his jaw shut to keep him from shouting obscenities in frustration.

Harry joined him, hands in his pockets, also scanning the field. "I think Brady's accident and this mess might be connected."

It made sense, if you looked at it. Yesterday's accident, and now this. Someone was targeting them. Why, and who was the question.

"Why the fuck would someone do this?" Tanner muttered. "What do they gain from it?"

"Dunno son, but listen. I'll ask around. People talk," Harry replied.