Sweat chafed under Grady’s collar as he picked his way through the fire-damaged area up near Redstone where Salem had been blown off-course.

The charred ground was still visible under clumps of baby trees and bushes sprouting between the burnt trunks of their parents. Twisted metal of fence posts and storage sheds littered the barren landscape. Blackened boulders jutted from a thin coat of wild grass. With the summer heat hitting high temperatures, the grass dried into straw, creating a fire hazard.

Grady checked his GPS and trail map. The drop area was right around the bend in the hill, a relatively flat area with a rocky exposure. It hadn’t been a comfortable place to land, but it was visible from the air. Everyone on his jump squad, except for Salem, had made the landing successfully.

He hiked to the location, now covered with dry grass, and pointed his compass due west at the nest of black tree trunks, looking more like telephone poles than trees.

How could Salem have missed so badly?

Using his topographical map and compass, he marked the location where they’d searched for her. The entire team had fanned out, spiraled around the area, but found no trace of her: no bones, no metal clips or rings from her parachute or jumpsuit, no melted helmet, nothing.

No wonder Paul had a hard time accepting her death. Without a body, all they had was a memorial service, where he’d shown the mourners the diamond ring he had for her and declared her his posthumous fiancée. It had been an emotionally wrenching service. Salem’s Kids, Paul’s charity to help street kids, was born from the donations and contributions of those who’d been touched by her story of having once been a runaway.

Grady stopped in front of a metal cross Paul put up at the base of a boulder in Salem’s memory. It was made from twisted and jagged scraps of metal, rusted nails, coils of wire around bits of dry bone.

Despite Linx dismissing the cross at the Hart cabin as being similar, Grady couldn’t mistake the fact that they were both crosses. If this one was in Salem’s memory, whose memory was that one for?

He turned away from the memorial, his stomach boiling over with acid. There was no beauty in the sculpture—only the ugliness of death.

“Thought I saw you up drive up.” The sound of footsteps crunched behind him, and Melvin Montgomery, their chief, lifted a hand to shake.

“Busy season,” Grady stated, knowing how many wildfires burned out of control at the moment. “Sorry about Salem.”

“She died doing what she loved.” Melvin said, crossing his arms. He looked across the landscape, not meeting Grady’s eyes. “She was good at it. Real good. Sometimes, I think her spirit’s still hanging around these parts.”

“There are worse places to hang around.”

“Yep.” Melvin kicked the dirt. “How’s Paul doing?”

“Bought himself a bar. Doing okay. How about you?”

“Been busy with never-ending wildfires,” the chief said. “We have over a hundred fires burning out of control covering two million acres all across the continent. Worse fire season ever.”

“Heard about your house. Sorry about that. What’s going on out here?”

The chief shrugged. “Lots of vegetation waiting to be burned. We need you back on the fire line.”

“I promised Paul I’d stay out this season. Salem was my jump partner.” Grady hung his head.

“It’s not your fault.” Melvin clamped an arm over Grady’s shoulders. “You fight fires as long as I have, and you’re going to lose someone. It never gets easier, but it’s the circle of life. She didn’t have family to mourn her, so we’re it.”

“Yes, we’re her family.” Grady’s throat tightened at the thought of how close that remark came. The thought that her baby could have been his was too depressing to stomach.

“Come back to the camp for a visit,” Melvin said. “The boys and girls would love to see you. Catch up with you. Everyone misses you.”

Like family.

Family never left anyone behind.

“Does it bother you that we never found her remains?” Grady scanned the ground, knowing that every inch had been thoroughly scoured, multiple times.

“We might have been mistaken on the direction she took,” the chief said. “It might be over that ridge, or on the other side of the drop zone. We’ll never know.”

Grady looked at the map, wondering. He’d been the lead jumper, the guy responsible for scouting out the terrain and the direction of the moving fire. He had also jumped ahead of Salem, and was on his way to the drop zone.

“I have to find her.” Grady’s jaw tightened. “Maybe she did go a different direction, although it would have been tricky to maneuver around the wind.”

“Salem’s an expert at steering.” Melvin rubbed his chin. “Which got me to thinking.”

“Thinking what?”

Melvin leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Leslie thought she might have been suicidal.”

Leslie was one of the mental health experts who traveled around the base camps.

“Why would she think that?” Grady wouldn’t have pegged Salem as suicidal. That woman always looked like a fat cat with a canary in her mouth.

“You’ve heard the rumors.” Melvin licked his lips, his eyes flickering over the landscape. “She’d been running around like crazy, trying to pinpoint the father of her baby. What she didn’t know was that Paul was going to propose.”

“She did know,” Grady said. “I told her right before she jumped.”

“Oh, well, then, that changes the whole situation,” Melvin said, shaking his head slowly. “But knowing Salem, even if Paul stepped up, she would have still gotten her claws into whoever the baby’s father turned out to be. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Leslie thought Salem exhibited signs of being a psychopath. I should have taken her off the team when she started making threats.”

“I’ve got to get going.” A wave of sadness pressed down on Grady’s chest, making it hard for him to catch his breath. “There’s a reason for the no fraternizing rule, not that anyone paid any attention to it.”

“Join us for dinner,” Melvin said again, although not as emphatically as before.

“Thanks, but not tonight.” Grady bade Melvin goodbye and headed in the opposite direction. Whether Salem was a psychopath or not, somebody out there was wreaking havoc with fire season. It could be Paul, most likely, or someone who had a crush on Salem, or maybe even one of the men she slept with who was jealous of the others.

Grady left Salem’s strange monument behind and headed toward an area that had been upwind from their jump site.

The fire had consumed the entire ridge, but parts of the valley had been spared complete destruction because of a creek running through it. It had been hard work pumping water, but they had saved the few farms and ranches downstream.

What if Salem had landed there, instead of where they thought? It had been hard to see through the smoke. Hard to pinpoint any landmarks.

Taking long strides, he hiked down the ridge toward the valley, keeping his eyes open for a metallic glint that was out of place. Her bones, if any, would have been scattered by wildlife by now, and finding clasps or buckles now that the area was covered by grass would be almost impossible.

He might never know exactly what happened to her, and her lies had already cost him the two most important people in his life: Linx and Jessie.

Especially Linx.

That woman might have a hot temper, but she was good inside. In contrast, Salem was sweet and sugary on the outside but poison lurked in her heart.

There was no contest between Salem and Linx.

Linx had been betrayed, and her prickliness enabled Salem to pull the wool over both of their eyes.

Anyhow, Salem was dead, and he had to make it right with Linx—no matter how much it would hurt or cost him.

Hugging Linx was like hugging a cactus, but at the same time, he couldn’t think of a pain more worth having.

She’d been forced into making a decision based on the information she had. She’ also been a casualty of Salem’s deviousness—betrayed by the very friend she thought had cared for her.

If he lost Linx now, it would give Salem the victory.

* * *

Having Grady’s phone was like a persistent itch Linx wanted to scratch. She didn’t want to snoop, but she couldn’t help wondering about all the women he’d have in his contact list.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t take a peek since his phone was locked.

About the only thing she could do was receive calls and glance at the first line of text messages, because the phone didn’t require unlocking to pick up a call.

His family called and called and called. Cait, Jenna, Connor, Larry, Dale, Brian, Mom, Dad, Melisa, Rob, Nadine, as well as phone numbers without a contact name.

Linx didn’t pick up any of the calls. After all, what could she say? That she’d stolen Grady’s phone? Maybe this was what Salem had done. She’d gotten ahold of Grady’s phone, unlocked it, and used it to intercept his messages. It wouldn’t have been difficult, if Grady had ditched his phone before going overseas.

Since Tami was bossing the volunteers around, Linx had some free time, so she headed for the Sixty Miners Saloon.

Paul McCall was the link to both Grady and Salem. Maybe he would know where Grady had gone.

Midafternoon was too early to go to the bar, but she drove into town and parked in front of the old-fashioned saloon, complete with swinging wooden doors and weathered wood façade.

Most of the old-timers hung out at the diner, but every town had their barflies, and Linx quickly spotted the mayor, Chip Colson, and his buddies playing cards in the corner.

She zipped by them and climbed onto a barstool. She’d served on a few crews with Paul back when she was a hotshot firefighter, working on the ground, but he was in one season and out another, depending on whether he was rebelling against his parents or taking a job in one of their companies.

“Linx Colson.” Paul wiped down the counter in front of her. “What can I get you?”

“Seltzer water and a twist of lime,” she said. “And some information.”

“Gonna cost you.” He smirked as he grabbed a tall glass and filled it. “Let me guess, you want to know where Grady went.”

“That’ll be it.”

“I told him to go to hell, and I reckon that’s where he’s heading.”

“Back to the fire line?” Linx guessed. “Or that last fire up north.”

“He went back to the burn scar near Redstone.”

“Why would he do that?” Linx asked. “Reliving it, isn’t he? I wonder if he dreams it, replaying it over and over in his mind.”

“I wasn’t there when it happened. I was in another crew,” Paul said.

“I’m sorry.” Linx took a sip of the seltzer water. “Very sorry.”

“You were her friend back in the day.”

“Yeah, we were friends. She used to live upstairs.”

“I know. That’s why I bought this place.” Paul clasped his hands and pursed his lips.

Linx drank her water. Her knee jittered, and she felt awkward talking to Paul about Salem. Another customer approached the bar and Paul served him, then returned to stand in front of Linx.

“You done Grady wrong,” he said in a low voice. “Real wrong.”

“I know. That’s why I have to find him.”

“To say you’re sorry?”

Linx squirmed under Paul’s scrutiny. “A lot more than that.”

She figured, he, being the town bartender, had already heard the gossip about both Cedar and Jessie.

“Then what do you want with him?” His tone was dead serious.

Linx stared over Paul’s shoulder as if seeing a ghost. “I want him back. For better or worse. Whatever mistakes we made are in the past.”

“That’s one way of thinking about it,” Paul said. “Except the past haunts the present. There’s no way Grady can take back what he said to Salem right before she jumped to her death.”

“How do you know it caused her death? Maybe he wished her good luck.”

“He’s still responsible.” Paul punched a fist into his palm. “It’s not right that he’s walking around assuaging his guilt while my Salem is gone.”

“I’m so sorry,” Linx said again. “I know you set up Salem’s Kids under her name. You have a good heart.”

“Yeah, but what good does it do when the likes of Grady Hart get all the women. I hate to admit it to you, but I think Salem was carrying his baby and he offed her so he wouldn’t have to take responsibility.”

Paul’s words slapped Linx like a splash of cold water. “That is so far-fetched as to be ridiculous. You want to know what Grady said?”

Anger surged inside her belly like the roaring of a red dragon. She didn’t know why Grady put up with taking the blame, but the truth was, Grady didn’t say anything to jeopardize Salem. Instead, he gave her a reason to live. He told her about the pending engagement.

“Whatever he told you is a lie.” Paul all but growled.

“No, I believe him. Maybe it wasn’t his business to tell her, but he told her you’d gotten a ring, and that she’d better figure out whose baby she was carrying because he didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Paul narrowed his eyes and snorted. “How was she going to do that? The baby wasn’t even born.”

“News flash. They can do prenatal paternity tests by drawing the mother’s blood and isolating fetal DNA, then comparing it to a cheek swab of the prospective fathers. No need to touch the baby. It’s not cheap, but hey, you’re loaded and I bet you’d want to know.”

“Damn.” Paul slapped the bar counter. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

A cloud of gloom draped over Linx’s shoulder, pressing her spirits down. “I guess it no longer matters, now that she’s gone.”

“It matters to me. Grady wasn’t the only likely father.”

“I’m sorry.” Linx put her hand on his. “Really sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he said, flinching. “Salem really admired you. Said you were her friend—the only one she had. I think she might have been a little jealous of you, though.”

“Why? She’s the smokejumper and I’m the dropout.”

“Yeah, but she once admitted to me that Grady called her by your name when … you know …” Paul cleared his throat. “Guess I’m jealous of Grady.”

“Don’t be. Seriously.” Linx blinked back her shock at what Paul had just spewed. How had she missed the obsession Salem had had with Grady?

Could it have pushed her off the deep end? Or had she always been a psychopath who only cared about herself?

“Yeah, you’re right,” Paul conceded. “What does it matter now? Dead is dead.”