Death Echo

They’re talking about arson. One crispy critter in the ashes.”
    She grimaced. She’d seen—and smelled—enough of that kind of death in Iraq to last her a lifetime.
    â€œI don’t know how firemen stand it,” she said.
    Mac didn’t have to ask what she meant.
    â€œSome of them turn vegetarian for a while,” he said. “Then they get over it and go back to rare beef.”
    â€œGlad to know I wasn’t the only one.”
    â€œWhere?” he asked.
    â€œBaghdad. You?” she asked, wondering if he would lie.
    Or if his file had.
    â€œAfghanistan,” he said shortly, accelerating onto the highway, “well beyond any city.”
    â€œOut with the tribes?” she asked casually.
    â€œNot much else out there but rock. Got a lot of that, all of it standing on end.”
    â€œHow long were you there?”
    â€œWhy do you care?”
    â€œCall me curious,” she said.
    â€œCall me classified.”
    Behind them an official vehicle came on fast, light bar flashing and siren screaming the need for speed.
    Mac pulled over like a good citizen.
    The sheriff’s car blew past them into the darkness.
    â€œGuess he’s late to the barbeque,” Mac said.
    She grimaced, thought about calling Faroe, and decided against it until she knew more. There was no point in waking her boss up to share the ignorance.
    â€œI’ll wait until the sheriff’s car is out of sight,” Mac said. “Then I’m going to speed like a dirty bastard. Every official in a twelve-mile radius will already be at the fire.”
    Mac hit the accelerator hard. Being a rental, the Jeep took its time getting up to eighty.
    And that was all it had. Eighty.
    â€œWhat a piece of crap,” he muttered.
    â€œWheels need alignment or balancing,” Emma said. “Or both.”
    â€œWhat it needs is another engine.”
    â€œThat, too. Sweet thing is, the mileage really sucks.”
    Mac almost smiled. Emma was that rare find in a partner, male or female—easy to be with.
    Especially when she pulled a Glock from her purse and checked it over with the motions of someone who knew which end of a gun bit and which didn’t.
    â€œThink we’ll need that?” he asked.
    â€œI think I’d rather be ready than point my index finger and say ‘bang.’” She put the weapon back into her purse.
    They drove in silence until they rounded the long curve half a mile from Tommy’s lane. Instantly Mac lifted his foot off the accelerator and began losing speed fast.
    At least sixteen official vehicles were parked on both sides of Tribal Road, light bars wheeling. The lane to Tommy’s trailer was choked with more vehicles. Their lights stabbed through the woods in flashes of blue and red and spotlight-white.
    Wary of making a loud screeching noise, Mac slowly engaged the emergency brake.
    â€œTommy’s place,” he said.
    â€œHow did you know?” Emma asked tightly, reaching for her cell phone. “Was the address on the scanner?”
    â€œNot in so many words. But even on the rez, most people have addresses. The place that burned didn’t.” He glanced at her phone. “Don’t bother waking Faroe up yet. We don’t know what’s going on.”
    Dead slow, the Jeep bumped along the verge of the road. After about sixty feet, Mac stopped, reversed, cranked the wheel, and started backing up. Once there had been another nameless lane here, but someone had moved on or died and everything was completely overgrown now.
    As the Jeep backed in, it bent brush and small saplings away from the vehicle. Branches shivered and scraped. Most of the undergrowth sprang back upright after the Jeep passed.
    When they were invisible from the road, Mac turned and looked Emma over, taking in her outfit.
    Before he could open his mouth, she started removing her watch and small earrings, things that could reflect light, giving away her position. It had been years since she had been trained in covert ops, but it was coming back to her. Along with a wave of adrenaline.
    â€œAny mud nearby?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t think I’ll need it for camouflage. I don’t want to get that close.”
    â€œIf you think I’m staying here, you’re not smart enough to sign on with St. Kilda.”
    Mac had been expecting that since he’d seen the Glock. He didn’t waste time arguing with her. He