Blaze: A Stone Mountain Mystery, #2

By Kristina Stanley

Instead of exchanging vows, Kalin Thompson spends her wedding day running from a forest fire near Stone Mountain Resort. Before they get to safety, the pregnant friend trapped with her goes into labor. Meanwhile, Kalin's fiancé hangs from the rafters of a burning building, fighting for his life.

The fire is declared arson. To protect her home, her friends, and her beloved resort, Kalin makes finding the arsonist her personal mission. In the course of her investigation as Director of Security, she discovers people will go to extreme measures to keep her from exposing their secrets.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fictionary Press
• Release date: Sep 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781775318392

Kristina Stanley

Stuff avout me

Book preview

1

Instead of exchanging wedding vows in front of friends and family, Kalin Thompson prepared her home for evacuation. A forest fire encroached on the single road between Stone Mountain Resort and Holden, British Columbia, threatening to isolate the community who lived twelve hundred meters above sea level.

Kalin removed a suitcase from her bedroom closet and tossed it on her sleigh bed, but before she opened the lid, her cell rang.

You’ve ten minutes. After that, you have to leave, Ben Timlin said.

She smiled at the confidence in her fiancé’s voice. I’ll be ready. Be careful. Okay?

Don’t worry about me. Hang on a sec.

His muffled speech reached her, but she couldn’t make out his words.

Get out of there now, Ben said.

Why? What’s happened?

This isn’t official, but…

But what?

The chief suspects someone set the fire on purpose.

Why would someone—

The fire started at the construction site of our new home.

Kalin’s skin prickled on the back of her neck. She eyed the doors and windows, all the ways an intruder could in. You think we were the target?

I don’t know. Just be careful. Go to a motel and don’t tell anyone where you are.

Chica padded across the carpet, wagged her tail and licked Kalin’s hand. If a stranger was near the house, the yellow Labrador would bark.

Kalin disconnected and took a few deep breaths. Some unknown person would not intimidate her. She would gather the things she cherished and ready the house. Then, and only then, would she take off.

She packed her wedding dress, white stilettos and lace veil. Two days ago, the fire department had issued an alert, and Kalin and Ben postponed their wedding. 

Ben, fighting alongside the ground crew, creating a fire barrier, working to save everything important to them made her proud. She took another deep breath, told herself to control her emotions and continued packing. He’ll be fine.

She fingered the wooden bench carved by her estranged brother, too large to take, and hoped it would be there when she returned. She’d already strapped her road bike and Ben’s downhill mountain bike to the roof racks of her Jeep Cherokee. Dog food and water claimed half of the backseat.

Needing to prepare the outdoors, she put on her hiking boots, entered the garage and dug out two garden hoses from behind a row of firewood. She connected one hose to a tap on the garage wall, poured water into the garbage cans and left them where a firefighter could find them.

She leaned a ladder against the outside of the house, climbed to the roof and nailed a sprinkler to the shingles. She searched the surrounding forest, looking for signs of an intruder, unsure if the adrenaline rush making her pulse race was from climbing or from fear of being attacked. With the sprinkler in place, she secured the second hose, dropped one end to the ground, followed it down the ladder and attached it to an exterior tap, ready if the fire got too close.

She hurried inside and filled the bathtub and sinks with water, emptied the fridge and loaded a cooler. Unable to resist, she washed her breakfast dishes, refilled the sink and wiped the counters. Their home was only a rental, but she’d shared the one-bedroom suite with Ben for fourteen months. After one final glance, she ignored the sadness and shut the front door. 

She carried her computer and suitcase to her Jeep.

Chica, let’s go.

Kalin opened the rear door, but before Chica jumped in, a rabbit dashed across the driveway. Chica bolted, following the scent into the forest. Not now. No matter how many times she called, Chica would not return without the rabbit.

She dumped her computer and suitcase onto the front seat, grabbed Chica’s leash and took off after her. She sprinted up the hill behind her house, knowing she couldn’t catch up with her dog but needing to try. Even though the fire hadn’t arrived in her part of the forest, thick smoke weaved through the trees, entering her lungs and making her cough.

Her cell rang again.

Are you on your way to town? Ben asked.

Not yet.

The evacuation order’s been given. You need to leave now.

Between deep breaths, Kalin said, Chica took off.

Where are you?

Kalin coughed again, and her lungs stung. I’m almost at the top of the hill behind our place. I can’t find her.

Leave her. The fire jumped the river. It’ll reach the road soon.

I’m not going without her.

Please listen. It’s windy. The forest is dry. The fire’s moving fast. Chica will find her own way out. For once, don’t be so stubborn. Ben had graduated from boot camp in Merritt, British Columbia, and was the captain of the Stone Mountain volunteer fire department. He knew what he was talking about, so she should listen to him, but taking orders was not one of her strengths.

The taste of ash stuck to her tongue, and she spit. Five minutes. If I can’t find her by then, I’ll go.

No—

Kalin disconnected. When the phone rang again, she didn’t answer. She said sorry to the photo of Ben on the display. He was smiling, his coffee eyes crinkled at the sides, his cropped hair flattened from recently removing his ski helmet.

She checked her watch and set the alarm. She struggled to see through the smoke, and the fire’s heat threatened her safety. 

Chica, come!  

A flash of yellow fur caught her eye, and Kalin darted left. She reached the crest and had a clear view of the fire. The firefighters no longer held it on the southeast side of the river away from the resort. 

Her heart pounded at the thought of Ben close to the flames. A heli-tanker dropped water along the flanks of the blaze. The sizzle of water hitting fire didn’t reach her, but the steam rising from the trees meant they’d hit a hot spot.

She’d used up three minutes. Come on, Chica. Where are you?

From her vantage point, the flames appeared dangerously close to the upper village. The first building in the fire’s path was the conference center. Flames moved toward the building decorated for Kalin and Ben’s wedding, inching closer to burning the tables graced with bouquets of spring flowers and place settings arranged on top of white tablecloths. She wanted to weep.

Four minutes gone.

Chica barked, and Kalin sprinted further along a deer track in one last effort to find her precious dog. A branch snagged her cheek, twisting her sideways. She wiped her face, and her fingers came away blood stained. She ducked and rounded the next tree.

The alarm on her watch beeped.

Time was up.

She ached for Chica but squashed the urge to keep searching and headed for home. Every few steps, she shouted Chica’s name. Her stomach cramped. She ignored the nausea and kept running. She slipped and slid down the hill, dodging lodge-pole pine trees and snapping dry twigs with her feet.

Behind her house, Kalin stopped and turned in a circle. She cast her eyes from one place in the forest to another, searching for Chica. Thicker smoke blew in, darkening the sky. She heard crackling. It could be flames burning trees, or it could be Chica running through underbrush.

Her cell rang for the fourth time. Because of trembling fingers, she dropped the phone when she pulled it from her pocket. She grabbed it before the call went to voicemail.

It’s Nora.

The fire department issued an evacuation order. Where are you? Kalin’s throat burned when she spoke.

Home, but I need help. My water broke. I’m in labor.

The fire’s heading toward the upper village, the incident commander told Ben.

I’m on it. Ben needed to reallocate resources. He dreamt of becoming the fire chief, and how he led his team would show up on his record. He’d made captain at twenty-eight, turned thirty-one a couple of months before Kalin and wanted to make her proud by moving his career forward. The incident command center operated from the Stone Mountain firehall, and he planned to impress the senior team.

He tried Kalin’s cell, but it forwarded to voicemail. Don’t do this to me. Get on the road, then call me.

A road divided Stone Mountain Resort into an upper and lower village, narrow enough the fire could jump from one side to the other. The firefighters could try to alter the course of the blaze away from the expensive real estate of the upper village if they soaked the area, but it meant increased danger to the older condos crammed in the lower village.

The Stone Mountain firefighters had joined the provincial forest firefighters in the battle to control the inferno. Their lifestyles, their homes were at stake. None of them questioned whether to risk their lives for the sake of the resort. Saving lives and property was ingrained in every one of them, even those who had not fought a fire before.

One group of nine firefighters lined a natural break in front of a stand of trees and with the aid of bulldozers, dug a trench. They removed enough roots, dirt and brush to create a forty-meter-long ditch. A second group worked a trench further to the east.

Grey smoke blocked Ben’s view of the approaching fire and of the men and women around him. Black smoke would be rising from the densest flames. He turned off his bulldozer and the roar of burning trees replaced the roar of the engine. Where’s Jason?

Over here, Captain. Jason Tober was Stone Mountain’s snowmaking manager. He spent winters creating snow on the mountain and summers working construction for a local company.

The commander asked us to soak the upper village perimeter. It’s time to get the snowmaking system going. At full pressure, the seventy snow-guns sprayed eighteen hundred gallons of water an hour and might be enough to save the resort.

Jason hopped off his bulldozer. He pushed his helmet back on his forehead, and his dirty blond hair rounded under the edges, longer than the firefighter’s regulations allowed but not long enough to be reprimanded for. I’ll need help. What about the golf course sprinklers?

Already on, but they’re not close enough to the hotels. Ben and his team were on the east side of the resort. The golf course extended from the west side and into the subdivision where he lived with Kalin. The golf course sprinklers might help the homes along Black Bear Drive, but they wouldn’t do much for the resort.

It’ll take over an hour, and I’ll need two people.

I’ll come. I don’t think we can spare anyone else. Ben radioed the incident command center and asked them to send help to the pump house. There was no one free.

Do we have an hour? Jason asked.

I don’t know.

Ben and Jason left the team digging trenches and drove off in Ben’s Ford F-150, lurching over rugged terrain. Ben’s knuckles were white by the time they reached the pump house. They ran to the entrance and found the door locked.

Crap. My key’s at home, Jason said.

Ben ran back to his truck and grabbed an axe. He swung the axe and cracked the door. He kicked the splintered wood out of the way. They entered the building, and Jason started to power-up the snowmaking system. The musty smell of the room was a change from the acrid smell of burning debris.

Did Cindy get to Holden? Ben and Kalin hung out with Jason and his wife. He trusted Jason. He worked hard, but his lack of hands-on firefighting experience made Ben nervous. With one year on the department, Jason hadn’t fought a major fire. He should have been standing beside Ben as his best man, not standing with grime and soot covering his face and hiding his freckles.

She did. They closed the front desk, and she was evacuated with her department. What about Kalin?

Not yet. Chica ran away, and Kalin’s searching for her. Ben ignored Jason’s look of concern. She’s okay. I know she’s okay. How do you want to do it? Ben moved toward the snow-guns.

Jason pointed to the industrial strength sprinklers stored at the back of the room. Forget the guns. We’ll use the sprinklers. They’re designed for fire fighting. The guns won’t provide enough volume.

A map of the ski runs filled one wall. Snow-gun placement for the winter season marked its surface. Jason cleared the board and with an erasable marker he put new location tags around the village. If we place sprinklers here, here and here, we should be able to soak the surrounding terrain. The fire’s coming from this direction, he pointed east, so we need a barrier along this side.

What about a perimeter around the lower village?

There aren’t any water hook-ups there.

Ben pointed at the layout on the whiteboard. How long will that take us?

Forty-five minutes to get the water pressure up to three hundred pounds. Then we have to get the hoses and sprinklers deployed. That’ll take another half an hour.

Tension caused Ben’s neck and shoulder muscles to cramp. He rolled his head, and his neck cracked. That might not be fast enough.

There’re two hundred gallons of water in the truck along with a pump. If the fire gets too close to any of the buildings before we get the sprinklers going, we can use that, Jason said.

Is that enough water to hold off the fire?

Probably not.

After the system powered up to full capacity, Ben helped Jason place the fifty pound sprinklers around the upper village. Hard physical labor and determination got them through the process in less than twenty-five minutes.

Jason turned the wheel.

I’m on my way, Kalin said to Nora.

She yelled Chica’s name until she reached her Jeep. On the other side of the resort, flames and smoke shot toward the sky. Nestled between two peaks in the Purcell Mountains, Stone Mountain was eighteen kilometers west of Holden. In all other directions, hundreds of kilometers of unpopulated forest surrounded the resort, providing endless fuel to keep the fire burning.

The back of her neck was damp, and she used a scrunchy to group her auburn hair into a thick ponytail. She glanced at her home, jumped in her Jeep and reversed out of her driveway. She didn’t want to leave Chica behind, but Nora needed her. Nora Cummings was twenty, single and pregnant with her first child.

She dialed Ben’s number.

Did you find Chica? he asked.

No, I’m on my way to Nora’s.

What for? You need to get on the highway. It could close any minute. Tell Nora to get out of there too.

I can’t. Her water broke. She needs help.

Okay, but be quick. We’ve got no one to send to you.

Kalin sped along the unpaved section of Black Bear Drive until she reached Nora’s and found her waiting at the end of her driveway. Nora got in the Jeep, and Kalin sped off.

The tires slipped on loose gravel and shot rocks out to the sides. Nora, strapped into the front passenger seat, bounced each time the Jeep hit a rut.

Kalin kept watch for Chica, willing her into her sight. She clutched the wheel and struggled to keep her eyes on the road and away from the orange glow shimmering over the area where Ben fought the fire. The air was thick and hard to breathe, and smoke stung her eyes to tears.

You okay? Kalin asked.

Nora stretched the top of her maternity yoga pants away from her belly. Yes. No. Even the slightest pressure hurts right now.

Kalin reached the paved section of the road and picked up speed. The Jeep flew over a speed bump, and the rear tires thumped against the metal frame.

Nora groaned and held her belly with both hands. Slow down.

Kalin eased her foot off the gas pedal. The high-end ski chalets sat empty in the deserted resort, awaiting their fate. The house she lived in with Ben backed onto Crown land. Without a barrier to stop a forest fire from leveling them, the houses lining Black Bear Drive were at the mercy of the wind, and the wind was fickle.

Powerful people—lawyers, doctors and developers—owned the chalets, but their power could do nothing to save their vacation homes.

The previous January, Kalin and Ben hired a contractor to build a single-family home. The builder erected the frame two days before the fire started. Their lot was in the center of the blaze, and she didn’t know if the builder’s insurance covered damage by forest fire, especially if her place was the target of arson.

Ashes and embers landed on the windshield, propelled from the trees and fire by the wind. A branch thudded off the Jeep’s hood and scraped over the roof, landing somewhere on the road behind them. Kalin swerved, a useless reaction after the branch hit them, and the Jeep scraped a tree on the side of the road. She checked Nora. Nora’s face paled, but she didn’t say anything.

A wall of smoke hid the view of the valley. The highway to Holden disappeared behind the grey screen. Kalin stopped the Jeep and called Ben. What do we do?

The fire’s crossed the highway. If no trees have fallen you might make it, but it’s too risky. You have to turn around.

The urgency in Ben’s voice frightened her. Turn around to where? Nora’s in labor. She needs to get to the hospital.

Any idea how long she has?

Not a clue. Nora huffed and puffed beside her. Labor induced sweat poured off Nora’s forehead, and her normally out of control hair stuck to her scalp. She boosted the air conditioning. The bump protruding from Nora’s waif-like frame took up more space than the rest of her. Kalin had the dreadful thought small women had difficult births, and she knew nothing about delivering a baby.

Don’t panic. The helicopters are picking up water at Silver Lake. Head there, Ben said.

But the hike from the end of the road to the lake takes an hour. It’ll take longer with the shape Nora’s in. Can’t you get a helicopter to land on the golf course?

Hang on. Let me check.

Minutes later, Ben came back with bad news. The wind’s too strong, and the fire’s burning along both sides of the course.

Can you get here? Kalin knew the answer before she finished the question, but she had to ask.

I can’t. I’m on the other side of the fire. Silver Lake is your best option. I’ll tell the heli-tanker crew you’re coming.

Ben was right. If they got trapped on the highway, smoke inhalation could kill them. She had to turn around. It was time she listened to him. She leaned over and checked out Nora’s footwear. Flip-flops. Not good. Do you think you can hike from the end of the highway to Silver Lake?

2

The water gushed faster than it could penetrate the soil, and the snowmaking sprinklers created a lake in front of the hotel closest to the Alpine Tracks ski run. Once Ben and Jason were sure the water would continue to flow, they took off toward the lower village.

Ben’s arm muscles ached from lifting the heavy equipment, but he didn’t have time to stretch. Their full regalia made running hot. Both men wore Nomex coveralls over long sleeve shirts. Hiking boots, helmets with fireproof cloth to protect the neck and leather work gloves completed the forest fire fighting uniform. Smoke-filled air burned his lungs, but he didn’t slow down.

They arrived at the lower village just as the firefighters lost the battle for the conference center. The firefighters retreated deeper into the village. Unbelievably, the building they planned to get married in was the first to burn. Some wedding.

The fire chief brought extra structural uniforms to the site. With the team of men and women switching between fighting the forest fire and fighting structural fires, he was prepared with turnouts for both types.

Ben and Jason donned mustard colored pants and jackets on top of their coveralls.

A row of twenty-five condos, built in the sixties and not to modern fire code, lined the outer road. Each three-story block contained four units, and each block was separated by a mere three-meter gap. The flames spread across the park that connected the conference center to the lower village, jumping from one tree to the next. A child’s play structure collapsed with a thud. The acrid smell of burning plastic rose above the burning wood, but only for a moment.

The fire trucks repositioned and sprayed the first row of condos. The draw on the fire hydrants overwhelmed the system, and the team struggled to get full pressure. Water, three inches deep, filled the roads, flooding basements of the houses located at a lower altitude, adding water damage to the fire damage.

The flames moved forward and reached the first condo in the row. The low pressure from the hoses wasn’t enough, and the fire engulfed the condo. The wind pushed the flames in the direction of the next unit.

In a nervous gesture, Ben rubbed the scar that ran underneath his chin. Let’s check the inside of the second condo. Maybe we can get a hose through the adjoining wall and stop the flames from jumping sideways.

Before snapping his breathing apparatus over his mouth, he called Kalin and left her another voicemail. They’d been out of touch for too long.

Using the over-the-head method, Ben settled an SCBA unit on his back and tightened the waist strap. He placed his face piece over his head harness. He lowered a fire resistant balaclava over his visor, making sure the cloth didn’t interfere with his vision. Once his helmet was in place and buckled, Jason did a buddy check, looking for exposed skin. When Jason was ready, Ben checked his equipment too.

They both turned on their individual Sentinal Systems. The on-board computer was attached to a high-pressure line of the cylinder and gave readings for air pressure, ambient temperature and airtime remaining. The man-down alarm was set to trigger after twenty-seconds of no movement.

Ben took a deep breath to activate the air.

Jason followed Ben into the condo. Between them they carried a hose, an axe and a pike pole. The flames candled the outer wall, fluttering inches below the eavestrough. Ben thought about Jason following behind him, Jason who didn’t have any significant hands-on firefighting experience, and reminded himself Jason was smart. But Ben was responsible for his safety. I won’t let him down.

They needed to find the hidden attic space shown on the building plans and maybe get access to the next unit and to the flames that burned within.

Ben ran up the stairs toward the third floor with Jason tight on his heels. He paid attention to what each step felt like underfoot, trying to determine if any were soft or spongy, testing for any indication the stairs had been compromised by fire underneath. He searched for smoke accumulating in the stairway or in the room above. Smoke contained toxic, explosive gases. Smoke could indicate a breach in the closest wall. Smoke made his adrenaline surge.

Keep alert. Anything that looks bad or unusual, tell me. Ben spoke to Jason but was thinking about Kalin. He wanted to see her. She had to be safe. Sending her to Silver Lake better have been the right thing to do. He handed Jason the axe and pointed. Cut a hole in the wall there and give us an access point for the hose.

Jason swung the axe hard and removed the outer layer of the wall. Instead of breaking through with the next swing, the edge of the axe buried into a wooden partition. He struggled to free the blade, yanking the handle several times before the metal unstuck. Unlucky for them, the partition was not a firebreak but probably part of some early renovation to the building. The thick partition kept Ben and Jason from getting water to the fire.

Jason raised the axe and swung again. Five swings later, they had their hole.

Ben put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. Hang on. I hear something. He listened for a moment and heard the noise a second time. He pointed behind a couch. There.

He crouched and found a