Fire Storm (The Gathering Storm Book 2) Read online

  Fire Storm

  A Novel

  By

  Marlow Kelly

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Fire Storm

  Published by Viceroy Press

  COPYRIGHT 2018 by Marlow Kelly

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  ISBN 978-0-9952301-6-3

  Cover art by Melody Simmons

  Edited by Corinne Demaagd

  From CMD Writing and Editing

  https://cmdediting.com

  For news of Marlow’s next release sign up for Marlow’s Newsletter at: www.marlowkelly.com

  Dedication

  For my husband, Steve

  You are my rock

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Epilogue

  About Marlow

  Chapter One

  Ben North clutched a hand to his chest in an effort to control his racing heart. The woman sat at his kitchen table, displaying her magnificent, naked breasts. He hadn’t seen a bosom that superb since he’d served in Vietnam.

  Her knee-length skirt had ridden up to her thighs, exposing her shapely legs. He should send her on her way, but the chance to spend time with a beautiful woman would be gone soon enough. He was two weeks away from his seventieth birthday and had more days behind him than ahead of him.

  Besides, it would be rude to tell her to leave. To get to his cabin on Molly’s Mountain, she’d had to drive past protesters and negotiate a steep, narrow trail that, at times, teetered on the side of a cliff.

  “Don’t you want me?” the woman at the table purred.

  He wasn’t sure if he could pleasure her. It had been years since his last sexual adventure. He cleared his throat. “Of course, I do, but are you sure? What about your husband?”

  She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “He’s having an affair.”

  “And I’m your revenge?” He had no time for her weasel of a husband, and there was poetry in the idea of him being used as an instrument for retribution.

  Her gaze slanted to the floor as she swallowed and then licked her dry lips. “You’re not the only one, but yes, you’re payback.”

  There was something in her manner that was off. She could be lying, or maybe she felt guilty over her adultery. Yes, that was it. She wouldn’t lie about having other boyfriends, but still, it was a surprise. “You have other lovers?”

  She nodded and met his gaze, seeming direct and honest.

  He’d always thought of her as uptight and unyielding. Maybe she showed the world the strict and conservative side of her nature, but in the privacy of the bedroom, she was a wild woman. He liked that idea.

  She smiled, straightened her back, thrusting her chest forward, and then curled her index finger, beckoning him closer. “I want you to lick my breasts and suck on my nipples.”

  His cock sprang to life, which was comforting. Maybe he would be able to satisfy her. He stepped closer and knelt on the floor in front of her, ignoring the pain in his arthritic knees.

  As he leaned in, she held up a hand to stop him. “Before you start, I need to get something out of my purse.” She plucked her bag off the floor and placed it in her lap. She was probably looking for a rubber. That was the way of it these days. You couldn’t have sex without protection, even if there was no chance of pregnancy.

  She pulled out her compact mirror and lipstick and then placed her bag back on the ground.

  He smiled. She wanted to make sure she looked good. Maybe she would primp her hair or touch up her makeup. He leant closer. He loved watching a woman put on lipstick. It was a feminine and intimate gesture. One he didn’t realize he’d missed until this moment.

  She pursed her lips as she opened the compact, held it level with his face, and blew.

  He coughed when a fine, white powder flew into his nose and eyes. He tried to wipe it away, but it just smeared.

  She blew again.

  A chemical taste coated his tongue. He spat as he pulled away, trying to rid his mouth of the dry, bitter substance. Then the world tilted and swayed. The floor seemed to buckle under him. He cried out and grabbed the table, trying not to fall over.

  A pretty she-devil with the largest breasts he had ever seen moved toward him. Horns grew out of her fair hair. “Where’s the gold?”

  He held his arms wide in an effort to prevent the walls from crushing him. “Why are the walls moving?”

  “They’re not moving. You’re hallucinating. It’s a side effect of the drug I blew into your face. I know you found a can of gold coins because I heard you telling Jack. Where is it?”

  Jack? Jack Morgan was his oldest friend. Jack would chase the devil away the same way he’d chased away Ben’s other demons. He tried to move to the door. He needed to get out of the house, to feel solid ground beneath his feet. But the floor slanted into an abyss. He gripped the table, scared he’d slip into the dark, inky blackness. “Help me!” he screamed at the devil-woman.

  She smiled. Her evil eyes shone with blue fire. “I’ll help you if you tell me about the gold.”

  He’d been tricked. The devil knew Ben’s weakness and had disguised himself as a beautiful woman.

  “You’d better get out of here before she kills you,” the chair said.

  The world righted itself, and he started for the door, ignoring the fact that chairs couldn’t talk. The furniture levitated, drifting around the room. His mouth was dry, so dry he thought his tongue would crack. Blood pounded in his ears. He took another step but didn’t have the energy to continue. He tried to inhale, but his lungs wouldn’t expand. And now the damned furniture was spinning.

  “Just tell me where the gold is!” the she-devil shouted.

  “It’s on Morgan land,�
� he yelled. He didn’t want to tell but was compelled to reveal everything. The devil controlled his mind.

  “Where?” she insisted.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but a crushing pain in his chest made him double over. He fell to his knees. Tim—he was supposed to meet him tomorrow and tell him about the gold. Now it was too late. He was a thief. He’d stolen from the Morgans, and the devil had come to claim him.

  “Where is it?” The she-devil was on the ground next to him. “I need to know,” she yelled, grabbing him by the collar.

  Her words stabbed at him, coalescing into a dark, sharp knife that pierced his heart. The spasm extended through his chest and down his left arm. His world exploded into a white light of pain, and then nothing.

  Chapter Two

  Officer Dana Hayden gripped the steering wheel of her patrol car as she negotiated the treacherous and narrow dirt road to Ben North’s cabin that was perched on the side of Molly’s Mountain. She couldn’t drive too fast since the dirt trail meandered around the mountain, sometimes teetering on the edge of a shear drop.

  The homes west of Hopefalls were geographically isolated. The only way to reach them was to drive through the town. There were no other roads to this part of the county. Ben’s only neighbors were the Kootenai National Forest and the Morgans, who owned the adjacent ranch.

  She’d been to Molly’s Mountain a number of times to deal with trespassers. Ben was embroiled in a particularly nasty lawsuit, one that had captured the attention of the press. Third Estate Mining Corporation claimed to own the mineral rights to Molly’s Mountain and were using Montana’s Eminent Domain Laws to force Ben from his land. Activists supporting both sides were camped out at his gate on the Hopefalls Highway. From there, it was a twenty-five-minute drive to the cabin.

  Strictly speaking, the properties west of Hopefalls came under the jurisdiction of the Elkhead County-Granite City Police Department, and she had no power to arrest anyone, but she could talk to people as a private citizen. She’d been motivated to act as an intermediary for Ben since the town of Hopefalls had suffered a spate of vandalism. The graffiti painted on the side of the police station, town hall, and post office suggested a link to Ben’s supporters. What had started off as defacement had escalated into arson when someone set fire to the mayor’s shed. She’d had very few problems when she spoke to the protesters face-to-face, so she’d been unable to pinpoint a culprit.

  Ben hadn’t been grateful for her efforts. He was crotchety and gruff, but there was a spark in his eye that told her he was intelligent and alert, and she had instantly taken a liking to him.

  She parked on the grassy ledge in front of the rundown cabin. Her boss, Police Chief Levi Booley, had parked his new Jeep Renegade close to the front door. Positioned beside it was the mayor’s newer model Ford Explorer, which meant she had to park next to a sharp precipice. She inhaled as she took in the view. The morning sun cast a long shadow over the western side of the mountain. Forests gave way to wide meadows with more snow-capped mountains in the distance. It was stunning, but it was also a long way down, and heights had never been her thing. She wasn’t exactly scared; she just had a healthy respect for Newton’s law of gravity.

  She climbed out of the patrol car, flinching as the skin at her waist caught between her Kevlar vest and gun belt. As a newly appointed officer for the town of Hopefalls, she’d been back in uniform for only two months. She couldn’t get used to the stiff starched white shirt and wearing two belts—her gun belt and a belt to hold up her navy polyester pants. The gun belt was bulky and awkward, but necessary since it carried most of the tools needed for the job: two sets of handcuffs packed neatly into two handcuff cases, an expandable baton, a flashlight, Taser gun, her portable radio, and two spare, fully-loaded magazines, which ensured she carried at least forty-six rounds of ammunition.

  As she ascended the three steps to the front door, her hand automatically went to her SIG Sauer. Booley had been cryptic when he’d phoned the station. He had refused to tell her the nature of the call, but claimed the area was secure.

  She stood at the entrance and blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark interior. Ben lay near the door, flat on his back, his arms by his side. A revolver lay on the ground next to him. His face was white, bloodless, and his eyes cloudy and opaque. She could tell at a glance he was dead. Whenever she encountered a body, her first instinct was to look away, but she resisted. Before moving back to Hopefalls, she’d worked with the Spokane Police Department for twelve years and had served six years as a beat cop before her promotion to detective. She knew the drill.

  “There you are.” Police Chief Booley stood in the center of the room, a tall rangy man with sharp eyes and a ragged face that revealed a lifetime smoking habit. “It took you long enough to get here.” He wore muddy work boots, jeans, and a white cowboy hat. A lit cigarette dangled between his fingers.

  Paul Harris, the mayor of Hopefalls, paced near the fireplace. He wore his usual uniform, a suit and tie. As always, his hair was perfectly combed, not so fussy as to be feminine, but not rugged either. His wife, Zoe Harris, sat on the old, duct tape-patched couch. She dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. Her short fair hair and gel nails were perfect, as always. Her eye makeup and mascara were also flawless despite the fact she’d been crying.

  Dana bit her lip and counted to ten. Damn it, Booley had over thirty years’ experience. He should know better than to contaminate the scene. He should’ve asked Mr. and Mrs. Harris to wait in the car instead of letting them trample all over the cabin. They needed to clear the room.

  “Have you already called the Granite City-Elkhead County police? Or do you want me to do it?” It was her way of reminding her boss there were procedures to follow.

  Booley gritted his teeth. “Yes, I called them.”

  She gave a curt nod as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves, hoping he would take the hint and extinguish his ash-trailing, evidence-tainting cigarette. “Then I’ll have to ask you all to wait outside while I preserve the scene.”

  Booley’s face flushed. “I’m your boss. I can do whatever I want.”

  Dana ignored his outburst. Her job was to protect the citizens of Hopefalls within the confines of the law, and she didn’t care whose toes she had to step on to do that. “We need to secure the area and allow the Granite City-Elkhead County police to investigate. I need the three of you to wait outside. Who found the body?”

  Zoe raised her hand.

  Dana softened her tone. “Why were you here?”

  Zoe sniffled. “I deliver food to the elderly.”

  “Did you touch Ben?”

  The mayor’s wife shook her head. “As soon as I saw him, I drove down the trail until I got a cell phone signal and told Booley that Ben was…that is to say I called…” She dabbed at her eyes. “I stayed in my car until Paul and the chief got here.”

  “They arrived together?”

  “We drove up in my car,” Booley snapped.

  Dana paid no attention to the chief. Instead, she gave Zoe a sympathetic smile. “You’ll have to wait until the Granite City-Elkhead County Police Department arrive. They’ll want to question you.”

  The mayor, who had been silent to this point, marched past her and out the door. “I’m taking my wife home. They can find us there. There’s no need for all this fuss. We know who did it.”

  “We do?” Dana ground her teeth together. She wanted to blast Booley and the mayor. She didn’t like having a civilian tell her who’d committed the crime, even if he was, technically, her boss. The three of them had stomped all over Ben’s cabin, leaving footprints, fingerprints, DNA, and cigarette ash. She doubted Booley would want to explain to the Granite City-Elkhead County police the evidence was tainted.

  Booley pointed to the gun on the floor next to the body. “That’s a limited-edition Colt six-shooter. It was made in 1984 and jointly purchased by Jack Morgan and Ben North. The two had a falling out, and Jack Morgan kept the weapon. It’s w
orth thousands of dollars.”

  Zoe rose and walked toward Dana, not looking at Ben. “I’ll wait outside.”

  Dana nodded as the mayor’s wife inched past her. Of the three of them, only Zoe Harris’s behavior was understandable. She was distressed and probably in shock. She had found the body, so her presence in the cabin was justifiable. The other two should’ve known better.

  Dana pushed the thought aside, grabbed her notebook from her back pocket, and started documenting the crime scene. It didn’t matter what Chief Booley or Mayor Harris said. She would work the case and hand her notes to the detective in charge of the investigation.

  Ben North lay on the floor a few feet from the door. His lips were a faded shade of blue. She had viewed more dead bodies than she cared to remember, but she never got used to seeing a soulless corpse. Everything Ben had been was gone. All that was left was an empty husk. She forced herself to focus. In her experience, a body never fell neatly. After being shot, people normally landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. They did not lie there as if they were waiting to be placed on a stretcher. Ben’s body had been moved.

  Booley hunched down next to Ben, puffing on his cigarette, blowing smoke over the corpse.

  Dana snapped the book closed, her patience at an end. “Sir, please extinguish that outside.”

  Booley grunted and walked past her, knocking her shoulder as he passed through the door.

  She ignored his juvenile antics and flipped open her notebook, concentrating on the task at hand.

  A trace of a white, powdery substance covered Ben’s face. A chair near the small kitchenette lay on its side. Where was the food Zoe had delivered? She’d said she left as soon as she saw him. Ben was lying near the entrance. Zoe would’ve knocked, opened the door, and seen Ben. Then she would have driven back down the mountain to call for help. She probably hadn’t actually stepped into the cabin until Booley and the Mayor arrived.

  Dana continued with her notes. The kitchen cupboards and drawers were all open. Someone had been searching for something. From her position at the door, she couldn’t see if the loft had been ransacked, but the living area seemed to be untouched. Maybe the assailant had found whatever they were looking for in the kitchen and hadn’t gone through the rest of the house.