a couple of beat-up trailers onto an old wellsite,â says Grey. âLand belongs to the Bureau of Land Management, and the wellsite is still under some companyâs name. I think thereâs even a wellhead there. Either way, itâs not really our concern. Theyâll 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
âYou ever have a problem with them?â
Grey looks thoughtful, shakes his head. Castellino and Haines exchange glances. âNothing substantial from our end,â says Castellino. âYou see them in town once in a while, buying groceries, but they pretty much keep to themselves.â
âWhat do you know about them?â says Noble.
âNothing really,â admits Castellino. âTheyâve only been there since spring.â
âCould they have started the fire?â
âI doubt it. Theyâre not crazy about drawing attention to themselves.â
âCould someone be trying to get rid of them?â I ask.
âNot that we know of,â says Castellino. âBut anything is possible.â
âSeems unlikely,â says Grey. âTheyâre quite a bit north of the canyon, on the far side of a ridge.â
âDoesnât take a fire long to cross a ridge,â says Noble, giving me a critical look. Thereâs a brief, uncomfortable silence during which everyone does a remarkable job of not looking at me.
âHave there been other fires like this?â
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 heâll have to answer. âItâs 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. Heâd 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
âCould that be related?â
âI doubt it,â says Grey. âHeâs in the loony bin now.â
âWhat about motive? Whatâs the employment situation like?â
Grey shakes his head. âOur crews are on all summer, and theyâve been busy.â
âAny contentious timber sales or land developments?â
âNot in that area,â says Grey. âToo rugged.â
Haines scribbles in his notepad. Castellino realizes Iâve been asking more questions than him and frowns. âLetâs get back to this fusee cap you found near the road. What did you do with it?â
âI bagged it, to preserve any prints, and locked it in the truck.â
Castellino glances at Grey. âWeâll have to get that cap to the lab right away.â
Grey nods, makes a note of this. âI donât think so,â I say.
âWhat?â Castellino gives me a dark look. âWhy not?â
âIt was in the Forest Service truck behind the ridge.â
âThe vehicle that was incinerated?â
âThatâs the one. I told this to Aslund. Itâs probably in his report.â
âDid you mark the spot where you found this cap?â
I hesitate. âNo.â
âCan you identify the location?â
âSure. Unfortunately, the location has been disturbed.â
Noble looks irritated. âLike everything else.â
âWhat sort of disturbance?â asks Haines, his knobby fingers laced together.
âThe D8 type of disturbance,â I tell them. âThe area is now a parking lot.â
Noble stands, goes to a wall map printed on orthophotography â 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
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