Every minute counted and Linx needed to find Jessie. There was nothing in the shed, but a bunch of dried bones and twisted metal, and waiting around for Grady and Todd would cost precious time.

Nope, she’d investigate all of the other hiding places she used to visit while running away as a kid. Meanwhile, she’d call her mother and keep her on the line. Posing as a fairy was exactly the type of crazy thing Mean Minx would do—but it was still hard to believe she would hurt a little girl.

Then again, she’d hurt her own daughter that Christmas day when she flew into a rage over the red dress.

Linx swallowed the unwelcome memories and concentrated on navigating her SUV through the dark and rutted field.

Even though the going was rough, she put her phone on speaker and called Minx.

“It’s you again,” her mother said without preamble.

“Yes, it is,” Linx said.

“What do you want?”

“Where are you?” Linx forced out the next word. “Mom?”

The rough voice cackled on the other end. “Too late to be calling me Mom, isn’t it?”

“Stop playing games,” Linx said. “I want to see you. It’s important.”

“Why would you want to see me? You never wanted to speak to me before.”

“I miss you and want to know all about you.” Linx strained to hear if there was any background noise—anything that would give her an idea of whether Jessie and Ginger were with her.

“You finally decided to miss me. What happened, you out of money?” Minx mocked.

“Tell me about your travels. Where do you hang out when you’re not in California?”

“You’re awfully nosy.” Minx coughed. “Don’t you have a fire to fight? Oh, I forgot, you quit. Always were a quitter.”

“I had a good reason to quit,” Linx said. She jerked the wheel as a tree branch swatted her windshield.

“Ah yes, you couldn’t even get a man to marry you while pregnant. But then, you didn’t try hard enough.”

Typical. All Minx ever did was hurl insults and bile. But it had toughened her, and Linx didn’t mind hitting her back.

“At least I didn’t walk out on my kid,” she spat. “I gave her to responsible people.”

“They’re so responsible they let her wander around unsupervised.” The dry voice cackled. “While they’re busy saving souls. Honestly, you had a good thing going, but you blew it, as usual.”

“What good thing? I was young, pregnant, with no role model on how to be a mother, thanks to you.”

“You were stupid. You could have held onto your baby and used her for leverage.” The rough, smoker’s voice huffed while coughing. “But I’ve fixed things for you.”

“Fixed things? How?”

“Meet me at Grady’s trailer, and I’ll show you.”

Linx’s heart pounded full of rocks. Grady’s trailer? Why would she lurk over there?

Was she a distraction from the search for Jessie or did she know something? What to do, what to do?

Keep her on the line, but what if this were a wild goose chase? Why would her mother have anything to do with Jessie?

“Sure, what are you doing there?” she challenged Minx. “I don’t think Grady’s there. What do you mean fixed things for me?”

“You and Grady. You’re made for each other, except you did something really stupid. You gave his baby to those Bible thumpers.”

“So?” Linx’s stomach crunched into her spinal cord. These were only words. They’d long ago lost their ability to hurt her. She had to keep her mother talking, no matter what. “They were a good and stable family. They could give her a better life.”

“Except Grady never gave consent. He’ll grow to hate you.”

“Maybe he will, but what’s it to you? How do you know all this? Who’ve you been talking to?”

The reply was another long bout of coughing and chuckling.

“I can fix everything for you and give you everything you want. How’s that for motherly love?”

“I don’t need your kind of love. Tell me what you did. Is it Jessie? Did you kidnap her?” Linx finally navigated off her father’s land and turned her SUV up the grade toward Grady’s cabin.

“I fixed your biggest regret. That’s what mothers do. All you have to do is receive my gift.”

“No, Minx, don’t tell me you did this. Please, let her go. Don’t hurt her. Don’t.”

“It’s a big surprise, you’ll see.”

“I don’t like surprises, Mom,” Linx said, needing to keep the conversation going. “Not after you ruined that red dress I got for Christmas. After that, no more surprises.”

“Okay, no surprises, you just show up at Grady’s trailer and it’s all yours.”

“If you’ve hurt Jessie, I’ll never forgive you. Ever.”

“Nuh, uh, uh. No getting the surprise out of me,” her mother admonished. “I’ve got to be going. See you soon.”

“Wait, don’t hang up.” Linx gritted her teeth as a plume of sweat dampened her forehead. “Mom, I just want to talk to you. I want to get to know you.”

“You don’t need to know anything about me.”

“Who’s my father?” The words slipped from her mouth. “You said I wasn’t really a Colson.”

“I was playing with you, girl.” The older woman cackled. “Just joking with you.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Ha, ha, ha. How far away are you from Grady’s place?”

“I don’t know, Mom. I’m coming from the ranch where I found your collection of bones and spikes. Whose bones are they? Animal or human?”

“What does your dark and evil heart tell you?”

“Whatever your dark and evil heart says,” Linx replied. She marveled at how calm she was, but she needed to keep Minx on the line. Unfortunately, keeping her on the line also meant she couldn’t call Todd, unless she could somehow put her on hold without her knowing, and she could three-way conference him in. “Mom, tell me a bedtime story, will you? A long one, so I can concentrate on driving without falling asleep. I can’t wait for your surprise.”

“Have I told you the one about the Black Widow and The Firestarter?” Minx cleared her throat. “Guaranteed nightmares.”

“Oh, goodie,” Linx encouraged.

“Yes, goodie,” Minx said. “You always liked fire. You played with matches. You burned noodles on the gas fire. You even blackened my steak knives. Oh, but you were a real firebug.”

“Yes, Mom, I was, so tell me about the Firestarter and the Black Widow.”

“It was your favorite.”

Once her mother started the story, she put her on hold quickly and called Todd. “I’ve got Mom on the line. She says she has a surprise for me at Grady’s plot of land. She says she’s going to fix my biggest mistake. I think she has Jessie and she’s holding her there. I’m staying on the line so you can track her.”

“Good, let me call the phone company and see if they can get a GPS location for her. Don’t go to Grady’s place, no matter what. She could be dangerous.”

“But, if Jessie’s there.”

“I’ll send a squad car, you don’t know if she’s luring you into a trap. My guys have been up there already and the area was clear. Now, patch me into the three-way and I’ll mute my phone so she can’t hear me.”

“Good idea, ready?”

“Go ahead.”

Linx waited one second and patched Todd’s call into a three-way conference.

“Linx, where were you? I just got to the good part,” Minx said.

“Sorry, I got lost and had to check my GPS. Took a wrong turn off Dad’s property.”

“It’s dark out there. Clouds hiding the moon. Now pay attention, the fire’s about to start. She wants to fry the Black Widow, not knowing she’s her mother.”

“Oh …” Linx said to keep her going. “Really?”

“Yes, so pay attention.” Once again, her mother’s voice droned, rough and crackly, but also dark and spooky, as she continued the very odd tale.

Linx concentrated on driving, almost missing a turn, but fortunately, her obsession with Grady meant she could get to his place blindfolded. Moments later, she pulled her SUV up the steep incline of his driveway, scattering gravel as Cedar jumped up and craned her head out the window.

Smoke and an orange glow reared their ugly faces as she turned into the clearing.

The logs assembled around the cabin were on fire.

“Mom, get out of the fire!” Linx jumped from the SUV as Cedar rushed toward the trailer.

The fire jumped and sparked from log pile to pile, and the grass caught fire near the trailer.

Cedar lunged against the trailer door, barking like she sensed someone was inside. Linx sprinted after her, but the door was locked. She jiggled it desperately.

Why wasn’t it opening? She’d wiggled it open before with a credit card.

“Anyone in there?” Linx pounded on the door. “Mom, get the hell out of there. Open up. Open up.”

A child’s piercing scream shrieked on the other side.

“Jessie, open the door,” Linx shouted.

But the child kept screaming and screaming. In between the screams, a puppy howled and little claws scratched at the bottom of the door.

Either Jessie couldn’t reach the door, or she was tied up, or frightened out of her wits. If Minx was there, she wasn’t answering.

Linx tried the lock again, then realized it was shiny new. Grady had replaced it after she’d broken in last time!

Crap. What now?

Linx turned as Cedar yelped, disappearing through the flames toward the creek. Hopefully she’d get to safety, but Linx couldn’t worry about her. She had to get back to her car and get a credit card to jimmy the lock.

Heat seared behind her, and as she turned toward the Durango, a wall of flames blocked her way.

“Grady!” she shouted. “You better have your stash.”

Linx always kept her firefighting tools: her axe, shovel, Pulaski, and even a chain saw close by her cabin. Every wilderness firefighter did that—one set in the truck and another right outside the living quarters.

She pulled at the storage compartments outside the trailer. No firefighter locked up firefighting tools. Ever.

The outside hatch opened and Linx grabbed a shovel. She had to throw dirt on the advancing fire before it reached the trailer.

Coughing from the smoke, she hit the ground with the shovel, throwing up as much dirt as she could. Unfortunately, the ground was hard and she wasn’t making progress fast enough. The fire licked around toward the back of the trailer where it was parked against a screen of bushes.

“Not a good spot, Grady.”

Grabbing a flame retardant jacket, she slapped it over the grass, putting out one hotspot only to have another one flare up. If the fire spread to the bushes and trees, it would surround the trailer.

She could use the chainsaw and level the bushes, then dig a trench and create a firebreak, but she was one person and she didn’t have time.

The smoke was already thick and her eyes stung. She couldn’t catch her breath, and her throat was raw with coughing, so she put on the flame retardant jacket to cover herself.

There was no time to put out the fire. Only time to get the girl out. She had to break the lock.

She was going in.

The Pulaski was the ultimate wilderness firefighting tool. It had an axe head on one side and a sickle-shaped mattock on the other side, useful for prying and digging.

“Stand back,” she yelled, although she was sure the puppy wouldn’t understand.

Swinging the axe side, she chopped at the door, keeping her blows high and away from any little bodies on the other side. Once she cracked the door, she turned the tool to the mattock side and wedged the digging edge into the crack.

She ripped the door out and a little ball of fur wiggled into her arms.

“Jessie, Jessie!” Linx screamed as she felt inside the dark trailer.

The puppy squealed and barked, then wiggled into the trailer, leading the way.

Linx stumbled toward the bed over the fifth wheel and climbed into the loft.

A limp body, still warm, lay still on the mattress.

“Jessie!” Linx scooped the girl over her shoulder with one arm and picked up the fur ball with the other. She tucked Ginger into her jacket and zipped it, then stepped from the trailer into a mountain of fire towering over her, snapping, cracking and popping up the pine tree above her.

They were about to be overrun.