Tainted Trail by Wen Spencer

meant the six family members that died in a house fire four days before Alicia disappeared. “It does?”
    â€œStatistically speaking, yes. There’s no evidence of arson in the Burke fire, but it’s the third fire in two months that killed the entire family. Statistically, the chance of a house going up and killing everyone is slim. It’s less than a fifty-percent chance that everyone is home. Cut it down drastically that not one of six people gets out alive. Then whittle it to nothing that it happens three times in two months.”
    A chill went down Ukiah’s back. “So, what’s the connection to Alicia?”
    â€œThree hundred and fifty people died in Umatilla County last year. Three hundred and thirty-five were natural causes. Only ten were killed by accident during the whole year. That’s an average year. In the last two months, twenty people have died in fires, four people have drowned, six peoplehave died in nonwitnessed, single-car accidents, and five hikers have vanished without a trace. Alicia is just the most recent one. If the hikers are all dead, then that’s thirty-five people in an eight-week span.”
    The numbers stunned him. He could see why the deaths were alarming, but not why they pointed to a connection between all of them. “Why do you say that the shooting links it?”
    â€œDo you know how many homicides we have a year?”
    â€œI wouldn’t think many.”
    â€œIn a good year, none. In a bad year, one. So, statistically, there’s a connection.”
    He looked at her.
    â€œListen to the details,” she urged him. “The Coles’ house burned down on July third—eight dead. A fire in a trash can, seemingly started by a cigarette butt, spread to some fireworks, and the whole house went up. July nineteenth—the propane grill sitting on a wooden front porch takes out the Watsons’ house. Six dead and the family dog. August nineteenth—the Burkes’ house. Six dead. Cause this time: an apparent toaster meltdown. Nothing’s the same, right?”
    He nodded, not sure where she was leading.
    â€œAll fires started after midnight.” She ticked the points off with her fingers. “All family members were found dead in their beds or bedrooms. And the kicker, all family members had missed work, school, doctor appointments, et cetera, the day of the fire. No one had seen or talked to them the day they died.”
    â€œAll twenty?”
    â€œAll thirty-five people, actually, with maybe the exception of Alicia, who had been seen the morning she disappeared. And a large number of them hadn’t been seen for two or three days prior to the fire: Kids were off school for summer, some of the homemaker mothers didn’t have appointments to miss, or one of the adults wasn’t employed.”
    â€œWhy ‘maybe’ for Alicia?”
    â€œIf she was killed Monday, then she was seen the morning she died. If she died Tuesday or Wednesday, then no one saw her the day of her death.”
    â€œWe have to assume she’s still alive.”
    Sam glanced at him in surprise. “Despite the shooting?”
    â€œThere are reasons why my shooting might not be related to Alicia’s disappearance,” Ukiah stalled, and then changed the subject. “Do you think these people are killed and put into their beds and the house burned down to cover the murders?”
    Sam shrugged, sighing. “So far the autopsies don’t show any cause of death beyond smoke inhalation and massive burns. The firefighters say that some of the victims obviously woke up enough to try to escape but never made it to safety.”
    She saw that he was finishing the third meal and indicated a nearby trash bin. “Want me to toss the papers?”
    â€œSure, thanks.”
    She strolled over to the trash bin, stuffed the bag in, and turned. She looked past the car, swore, and started for Ukiah at a trot. Even