One Careless Moment by Dave Hugelschaffer Page A

a couple of beat-up trailers onto an old wellsite,” says Grey. “Land belongs to the Bureau of Land Management, and the wellsite is still under some company’s name. I think there’s even a wellhead there. Either way, it’s not really our concern. They’ll stay until winter, grow their organic vegetables, or whatever the hell it is they grow, then give up when it gets cold and move on.”
    â€œYou ever have a problem with them?”
    Grey looks thoughtful, shakes his head. Castellino and Haines exchange glances. “Nothing substantial from our end,” says Castellino. “You see them in town once in a while, buying groceries, but they pretty much keep to themselves.”
    â€œWhat do you know about them?” says Noble.
    â€œNothing really,” admits Castellino. “They’ve only been there since spring.”
    â€œCould they have started the fire?”
    â€œI doubt it. They’re not crazy about drawing attention to themselves.”
    â€œCould someone be trying to get rid of them?” I ask.
    â€œNot that we know of,” says Castellino. “But anything is possible.”
    â€œSeems unlikely,” says Grey. “They’re quite a bit north of the canyon, on the far side of a ridge.”
    â€œDoesn’t take a fire long to cross a ridge,” says Noble, giving me a critical look. There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence during which everyone does a remarkable job of not looking at me.
    â€œHave there been other fires like this?”
    More silence. No one seems eager to answer my question. Castellino thoughtfully rubs his chin. Haines is redesigning a paperclip. Grey is twisting the end of his moustache. He glances around when my eyes reach him, seems to accept that he’ll have to answer. “It’s been a few years since we had anything we could say for certain was arson. Last time, it was some guy using homemade napalm. Glue and gasoline. He’d slosh the stuff around on the trees, then stand in one spot, throwing matches until one caught. We nabbed him at the hospital after his leg caught fire. Burned himself pretty good.”
    â€œCould that be related?”
    â€œI doubt it,” says Grey. “He’s in the loony bin now.”
    â€œWhat about motive? What’s the employment situation like?”
    Grey shakes his head. “Our crews are on all summer, and they’ve been busy.”
    â€œAny contentious timber sales or land developments?”
    â€œNot in that area,” says Grey. “Too rugged.”
    Haines scribbles in his notepad. Castellino realizes I’ve been asking more questions than him and frowns. “Let’s get back to this fusee cap you found near the road. What did you do with it?”
    â€œI bagged it, to preserve any prints, and locked it in the truck.”
    Castellino glances at Grey. “We’ll have to get that cap to the lab right away.”
    Grey nods, makes a note of this. “I don’t think so,” I say.
    â€œWhat?” Castellino gives me a dark look. “Why not?”
    â€œIt was in the Forest Service truck behind the ridge.”
    â€œThe vehicle that was incinerated?”
    â€œThat’s the one. I told this to Aslund. It’s probably in his report.”
    â€œDid you mark the spot where you found this cap?”
    I hesitate. “No.”
    â€œCan you identify the location?”
    â€œSure. Unfortunately, the location has been disturbed.”
    Noble looks irritated. “Like everything else.”
    â€œWhat sort of disturbance?” asks Haines, his knobby fingers laced together.
    â€œThe D8 type of disturbance,” I tell them. “The area is now a parking lot.”
    Noble stands, goes to a wall map printed on orthophotography — aerial photos corrected for scale so measurements can be taken from the image. The photo is a few years old but, other than the fire, little has changed. He taps