The Midnight Oil

The flames were closing in; she couldn't see her way around for all the smoke. Couldn't breathe. Why had she done this alone? Why did she always insist on doing these things alone? She tried to hold her shirt over her mouth to filter the air, but it didn’t help. She started coughing; her throat burned all the way to her lungs. Coughing didn’t help clear them; she just inhaled more as she breathed in. Her chest ached and shuddered with each ragged gasp. She crashed into a tree and held onto it as she began to fade out, and it was warm, too warm. She felt blisters forming on her hands already. She looked back at the direction she’d come from. There, in the distance, a dark shape emerged from the billowing smoke, moving quickly, running. She needed to keep going. To get away, but she couldn’t, it was too late.

Everything went dark…

*A month earlier*

Another flight, shorter this time. Wren had just gotten back to the B&B she now lived at in Ireland. She was home for not even an hour when her phone rang. She hadn’t even gotten unpacked. The total stranger on the line was friends with a cop Wren had dealt with in Queensland. This woman was a forest ranger in Spain at a park located on an Island. There had been forest fires where everyone who had investigated said they were accidental, natural, nothing suspicious at all. But the ranger, Reina, suspected foul play, no one believed her. Wren didn’t know if she believed her or not either, but nothing could get her to take off to Spain right after just getting back on a return thirty-hour flight. Nothing, that is, except what Reina told her next, the only thing that could have gotten her to head right back out so soon.

The animals are in danger.

So, she booked a flight and headed to Isla de la Purificación del Alma. Which was fitting, because it translated to the Island of Purification of the Soul. After spending a week in a mansion with billionaires dealing with secret affairs, drama, murder, and getting hit on by a married man and fresh widower, who happened to be the same person, she needed something to cleanse her soul.

She didn’t have much to drink on the flight, because her stomach was already in knots. Once she finally made it to the island, she was happy to see a small bar and grill. There was a small village on the port side of the island with just a couple houses and a few businesses. The Ranger’s station was on the other side of the island. She was supposed to meet Reina at the post office for pickup in one hour, so she went inside the bar. The sign said Barco Nova and had a logo of an anchor beside it. This was a fishing community, a diet she was used to from her own current home in Ireland. That was a relief; fish were good for the brain.

She went inside and could tell this place was a staple for the islanders. People sat around comfortably as if they were at home. One child even had her shoes off and was running around blowing bubbles through a wand. An old man laughed with her, but a young couple who were likely her parents were across the room dealing with a baby who was fussy. The place was lively, the music was faint but cheerful, and there was a fireplace in the back corner in front of a couch and some comfortable chairs. She could imagine curling up in one of them to read on a stormy night while life was happening vividly around her. Behind the bar was a tall man with dark hair down to his shoulders, he had a towel over one of them. He wore a dark red button-up shirt and an apron around his waist. He was talking to some people on barstools. He saw her and smiled with one side of his mouth. Wren stopped walking and bit her lip as she felt heat in her cheeks. Easy now, this one was going to be charming. Be prepared.

She walked over and hopped up on an empty barstool, “Ola,” she said.

“Boas tardes,” the bartender said. Galician, she’d had just a few hours to study the language and reading on the plane or the car was sure to make her nauseous. She smiled because she was sure it was a greeting because of the root word for tardes. But she wasn’t sure what to say back. She looked at her translation app on her phone and found something.

“Falas outra lingua ademais do galego?” she said slowly and deliberately, asking if he spoke any other languages.

He smiled, “Yes I speak English and Spanish if you’re familiar, which would you prefer?”

“English please, if that’s okay,” she said apologetically.

“We have American tourists in here all the time, it’s fine, can I get you a drink?” he offered.

“Please,” she said, “anything with whiskey.”

“Right up, rapidamente,” he grinned at her. He prepared her drink expertly and quickly like he’d promised. She noticed a scar vertical across his eyebrow coming down his cheek. It was light but split his eyebrow in two with a little line of skin. His eyes were intense green when they met hers and it made her feel warm.

“Thank you,” she said as he sat her drink down. She took a sip.

Then from behind him she heard a woman shout, “Vaia! Non o podo crer!”

The bartender turned, “Mamá, estás ben?”

“Si, moi ben. É a miña autora favorita, Wren Alden,” she said pointing at Wren excitedly.

The bartender looked at Wren, “You’re an author, huh?”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you Mrs.…” Wren held out her hand to the woman.

“Inglés? Si, it’s Ms. Barreira, I’m widowed,” the woman took Wren’s hand with both of hers, “but call me Imelda. This is my son Dylan, named by his father for his favorite singer.”

“Bob Dylan?” Wren asked as Imelda let go of her hand gently.

“Si.” she said a little sadly. Then she brightened, “I have read all your books, Tipaza.”

“Thank you, I hope you enjoyed them,” Wren said.

“Very much, you are a genius, tan intelixente,” she said. Wren blushed and Dylan watched her with a grin. His mom slapped his chest, “You find a smart woman like this to marry one day, I have to cook,” then he blushed and she leaned in, “Ela tamén é fermosa, non si?”

“Mamá,” he sighed as she grinned and went toward the door leading presumably to the kitchen. Wren casually typed fermosa into her translator, and it meant beautiful. How sweet, but she was not here to be matchmade, this was business.

“I’m sorry she’s been hounding me about marriage since I was born,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Wren smiled, “It’s no problem, she’s very nice.”

“So, you’re Wren Alden, she talks about your books all the time,” he said.

“That’s great,” Wren said, sipping her drink. And it was, for her writing career, but it could hinder her investigation if too many people recognized her.

“She called you beautiful,” he said.

“I know,” Wren held up her phone to show him the translator.

“That’s helpful,” he said.

“Yeah, for words but not pronunciations, I’d hate to be like one of those people you see in America in a Mexican restaurant saying ‘por favor’.” She said the Spanish words in an exaggerated redneck accent. Dylan laughed hard at her quirkiness.

“Like I said, we get a lot of tourists, people here will give you grace on the language. We don’t expect everyone to be fluent, and most of us know several languages,” he said.

“That’s a relief,” she said with a smile.

He smiled back, “I’ll speak English for you from now on.” Like he expected to be seeing her a lot, was it always this warm in this diner? She tugged on her shirt a little bit. She needed to focus on the investigation. But it had to seem like natural conversation.

“Does it stay warm here all day?” she asked casually.

“It cools down a lot at night,” he said.

“Hmm,” she nodded, sipping her drink.

“You’re here about the fires?” he asked, how did he figure that out so fast? Had he read her books too? Did he know she investigated real crimes? Did he recognize her too and pretend not to?

She smiled at him, “You know about them?”

“I know a lot about them,” he said.

“So, you know they’ve been starting at night, which is rare, and unlikely to be an accident,” she said, watching him closely.

“No, they don’t start at night,” he said turning to grab a plate off the counter between his bar area and the back room. He laid an omelet in front the guy next to her, it sizzled dramatically, “they simmer.”

“Simmer?” she tilted her head.

“Fires don’t need to be seen to be there,” he said, “sometimes they wait.”

“You’re saying that someone isn’t doing this on purpose?” she asked.

He shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not, but your timing is wrong.” Wrong? Her? She glared at him, and he smiled. Okay suspect number one, you’re cute but I clocked you.

“And how do you know so much about fire?” she asked him, leaning her elbows on the bar and resting her chin on the back of her intertwined fingers.

He leaned over the bar towards her and got close, “Would you like to go hiking with me Sunday? I can show you around.” He was deflecting. He had underestimated her, but she needed him to wonder if he’d gone too far too soon. She had to leave him guessing.

“I gotta go,” she said, pulling out some cash.

“You’re not going to answer my question?” he asked. She grabbed her drink and downed the last of it, then laid the money on the bar and stood up.

“You didn’t answer mine either,” she said and headed for the door. He called out to her in Galician, but she didn’t hear what he’d said over the music and the other customers.

They simmer. Even though it had pushed him to show he knew more than he maybe should, she didn’t like that she hadn’t thought of that. That the fires hadn’t actually started at the time that they appeared. She would have gotten to the realization; she was just tired from travel and hadn’t had much time to think about it. ‘Wrong?’ The nerve of that guy.

The air was fresh, it was hot, and she had dressed right for it. A loose white tank top with some jean shorts and canvas flats. Her one suitcase on wheels scraped the road behind her as she walked around the tiny town. The mainland was visible from the island, and she’d taken a small boat. The entire town seemed to hug this edge of the island. She’d looked it over on a map, ninety percent of the island was green forest. Bordered in beach, all except the town which nestled against the boardwalk that spanned the whole inhabited part of the island. There was a road that ran along parallel to the boardwalk that was paved. The sky was a clear blue, and the water was aqua all around the island, clear as crystal. That was the kind of beauty she liked, not black diamonds and big mansions. Nature, fresh air, and community. This was perfect for her. It felt like a place where people actually lived instead of some resort. The island was one of the few with some inhabitants, but still only about eighty people lived on it and some of those were only living on it for part of the year.

She made it to the post office, and right out front sat a dark green jeep with the logo for the park and a woman standing beside of it. The woman was average height and build, maybe a little muscular from working hard outdoors. Her dark hair was pulled tight at the nape of her neck in a bun under a ranger hat. She was in a dark green and sage uniform with a badge. She looked like the type that took her job very seriously. And if Wren hadn’t spoken to her already on the phone, she’d have assumed she was rigid. But on the phone Reina had been desperate, pleading, on the brink of tears. It wasn’t overreaction, it was concern. Wren could hear the heartbreak in her voice as she spoke about the land, the animals. She took her job seriously not because she was strict, she actually cared. Wren respected her before she had even met her, now there she stood.

“Reina?” Wren approached her curiously.

The woman turned and smiled, a soft kind smile that broke the serious ranger illusion a little bit in a comforting way, “Wren, how can I thank you enough for coming to help?”

“You don’t have to, this is like a vacation after my last one,” Wren said looking around.

“They call it un paraíso para a alma, a paradise for the soul,” Reina said proudly.

“I can see why, it’s gorgeous,” Wren said.

“Can we pay for your trip, at least?” Reina asked.

“Already been taken care of,” Wren said, making herself at home by opening the back door of the jeep and putting her suitcase in. “I just need a place to sleep and set my laptop up to write.”

“We have an extra room at the ranger cabin,” Reina said. “Just fired someone a few months back and haven’t found a replacement, a junior ranger.”

“Oh?” Wren asked. Another suspect already, getting fired was a typical motive. “How many rangers are there?”

“Two head rangers, myself and my boss Jonay, he’s been a ranger since before you were born and knows this island like no one else,” Reina said voice filled with admiration, then she continued, “There are no rangers for the fall and winter. It’s split into half years, Jonay and I work the spring and summer, and its off season the other half.”

“So, four typically for the half year?” Wren asked.

“Si,” Reina said, “four apartments in the cabin with their own bathroom and kitchenette, really like a small hotel room inside a bigger lodge.”

“But one of the junior rangers was fired?” Wren asked.

Reina nodded, then shrugged, “I don’t know the details, Jonay never liked her, they got into it out in the woods and she was let go. He said she was too young to take the job seriously, that she wanted to be carefree. She has tried to call me several times, but I don’t answer.”

“Hmm,” Wren stored the information in her mind.

“But you get her old room, and her loss is your gain, non hai mal que por ben non veña,” Reina said.

“Non mal… no bad without good?” Wren tried.

Reina smiled and motioned for Wren to get in the jeep as she opened the driver door, “Good, close it’s something miña nai used to say, it means: ‘there is no bad from which good does not come.”

“I really like that, let’s hope we can get something good out of figuring out who’s setting these fires,” Wren said as she got into the jeep on the passenger’s side. Reina smiled at her warmly and tears pooled along the bottom of her warm brown eyes. “What’s wrong?” Wren asked.

“It’s just nice to hear someone believe me,” Reina said. Wren could understand, being a woman in any mostly male profession was like that too often.

They made their way through the small town, and the paved road turned into dirt right outside the town. They drove through a small field of grass and then entered the forest. There was a mountain on the island right at the center. The road curved around it and snaked through trees and along the creeks. It was a small island, but it was slow going on the dirt road. The trails up the mountain were even rougher, but they didn’t go up those. They bounced along and Wren took in the sights and smells. There was something in the air, a fresh minty- almost medical smell. There were trees and bushes of all shapes and colors. Streams of water ran bubbling over rocks. It reminded her of the small town she’d grown up in.

Eventually they got to the far side of the island, around the mountain and came to a circular dirt driveway. There was a garage, a barn off to the side almost behind it. But the cabin itself was nothing like the ones Wren had seen before, this wasn’t Ranger Smith’s little cabin off of Yogi Bear. This was a two-story lodge made of logs, with a green metal roof and a balcony all around the second story and a wraparound porch on the first. An older man was sitting on one of the rocking chairs on the porch wearing the same uniform that Reina had on. He stood up as they pulled into the driveway.

Reina parked near the front steps. the man sauntered down them to greet Reina with a smile and a professional nod. He then smiled at Wren and held his hand up in a wave.

“Ola,” Wren said.

“Ola, you must be the detective,” he said.

She bit her lip, “Yeah,” she said. She was a writer who sometimes helped people solve crimes and mysteries, but explaining that was becoming tedious, so she needed to get used to it if this was going to keep happening.

“Can I help with your bags?” he asked, looking into the back of the jeep.

“Well, it’s just the one,” Wren said, motioning to the back seat.

“I’ll get that for you then,” he said and held out his hand, “I’m Jonay Diaz, head ranger, I appreciate your help.”

“So, you think someone is doing this too?” she asked, shaking his hand.

He hesitated with an, “Ehhh, well I know my right-hand woman here is a professional, I don’t see it the same way as she does, but I know she’s good at her job.”

He was dancing around it, but he thought they were accidental too. He seemed to mean what he said about his partner, at least he respected her enough to agree to disagree and not just outright call her irrational. Wren liked him and nodded with a smile, “Well we’ll see what’s what anyway.”

“Can’t say no to that, whatever is happening is happening a lot so no harm in looking around,” he said, opening the back door of the jeep and taking out the suitcase. He walked ahead of Wren and Reina joined her in following him.

“He doesn’t believe me,” Reina whispered to her, “but I know this is unusual.”

“Some people have too much practice, it dulls the instincts after a while,” Wren said. Reina shrugged but nodded after a beat. They went inside and Jonay sat Wren’s suitcase down in the middle of floor. The first floor was open all the way to the second story ceiling. A staircase went up one side wall and there was an open hall with two doors overlooking the living room type area. There was a rock fireplace across from the stairs in the front corner and a giant colorful area rug in front of it. A couple of big soft looking couches and chairs were around that. There was a log coffee table and end tables. On the other side of the big open area was an office corner in the front and a coffee station in the back corner. Straight across from Wren was a door that said, ‘public restroom’. On each side of the bathroom was a door.

“Those are the junior ranger rooms,” Reina said, “the one on the right is taken by George, yours is the one on the left.”

“Thank you,” Wren said, getting the handle of her suitcase.

“You want some tea?” Jonay asked suddenly, “I brew it myself right up in my kitchen.”

“Oh, thank you, but not right now, I need a little nap and a shower,” Wren said.

“Alright, but it’s really good for respiration,” Jonay said.

“I’ll be sure to get some later,” Wren said. She was okay with tea, she preferred coffee, but she didn’t want to be rude and refuse outright. Jonay grabbed his thermos and waved at them both.

“Okay, I’ll see you both later then,” he said as he headed toward the door.

“Going on a walk?” Reina asked.

“A quick one,” he said and went out the door.

Reina rolled her eyes, “The man hits fifty and becomes a health nut, special tea, walking every day. We walk enough for our job, é excesivo.”

“He seems really nice though,” Wren said, looking out the door he’d left open. It was a nice day and there was a screen door.

“He’s a wonderful boss, and my mentor, that’s why he’s doing these things. He wants to be fit and healthy so he can keep working here, he loves this place,” Reina said.

Wren smiled, “That’s great, I love my mentor, Felix.”

“Felix Thurman?” Reina asked.

“Yeah, he’s done a lot for me, including paying for this trip,” Wren said.

“You’ll tell me about him over coffee, but no tea,” she winked at Wren and Wren laughed.

“Yeah, I’d like to hear all about the fire situation too,” Wren said.

“After your nap and a shower,” Reina said.

“Right,” Wren said. She wanted to get settled in and sleep, but she mostly wanted to get rid of that “just off the airplane’ feeling.

After Wren got settled in with a nap and shower, she sat in the living room with Reina talking. Wren told her about Felix, but mostly they talked about the string of fires that had been happening in the park. Reina said Jonay knew more than anyone about the park, but if he knew more than Reina seemed to, it was saying a lot. She took her job seriously and knew all kinds of things about nature and even fires. That was part of the job, being able to predict forest fires.

“These are unpredictable,” Reina said, “it’s early and too cool for them to be starting spontaneously yet.”

“And they start at night?” Wren asked.

“They appear at night, but if they were natural that would mean they had been waiting,” Reina said. That was the same thing Dylan had said. He sure knew a lot about fires for a bartender.

“And how many have there been so far?” Wren asked.

“Six, three a week for two weeks,” Reina said.

“That sounds like a lot, I didn’t see a lot of burnt forest,” Wren said.

“Our fire department has been quick, stopping them before there is much damage. It is easier to find them when it’s night because it’s so dark, they show up so soon,” Reina said, “but it’s a small island.”

“I didn’t see a fire department in town,” Wren said.

“It’s between here and town on the other side, housefires don’t cause as much concern as a forest fire,” Reina said.

“Right, that is smart,” Wren said, chewing on the pen she had been making notes with. “So many people have lived near here for years, don’t they think it’s unusual?”

“Most say climate change, it’s warmer than most years, which is true enough, but not warm enough for this many fires,” Reina said.

“So mostly it’s just pretty good logic getting in the way of even better logic?” Wren said.

“Si, I’m not imagining this,” Reina said.

“No, I don’t think you are, has someone said that to you?” Wren asked.

“Not to my face, people know I’m not a paranoid person, but this year is different, I am getting older and many think the park needs something new, just a few months ago someone tried to petition to remove protected status to make way for a resort,” Reina said.

“Eww, a resort,” Wren said involuntarily.

“Jonay made a fuss; they were coming around a lot trying. He finally got them to back off, but sometimes people with lots of money can do more than those without,” Reina said.

“Can they do that though?” Wren asked.

“They can try... I think it makes Jonay paranoid,” Reina said. “He was very upset about it.”

“Hmm, do you still have the name of the people wanting to change it?” Wren asked.

“I still have his business card,” Reina said, going over to the office part of the cabin. She dug around in the desk drawers and finally brought Wren a business card. Walter Williams Realtor, it said in gold lettering on a black background. It was pretentious and cheesy all over; there were gold palm trees framing the name.

“So, he came by here, how many times?” Wren asked.

Reina waved one hand around annoyed at even the thought, “Too many, I let Jonay deal with all the business side of things, I’m here for the animals and the forest.”

“Can I keep this?” Wren held up the card.

“Cut it up and burn it if you want,” Reina said with a light laugh. Wren laughed and stuck the card in the back of her notebook for later research.

“Okay so the people in town, they aren’t suspicious at all?” Wren asked.

“Some of them, like I said, blame climate change, and others make jokes about Alento do Inferno, over on the cliffs,” Reina said.

“Alento do inferno?” Wren asked.

“Local legend of the breath of hell, it’s really an opening in the cliffside that wind catches just right to make an awful sound that sounds like hell itself opening up,” Reina said shrugging.

“But they don’t really believe that?” Wren asked.

“No, it’s just a story to tell when tourists come around looking for one, helps the economy to keep them coming around,” Reina chuckled. “I can show it to you when I give you the tour.”

“Sounds great, so there’s the people who think it’s just natural and the people who don’t think about it much at all, and no one has been acting suspicious?” Wren asked.

Reina shook her head, “Just the fires themselves are the only thing abnormal.”

“But we had the prospective realtor, ex-employee, and then Dylan,” Wren said, reminding herself of her suspects.

“Dylan? Barreira?” Reina asked, wiggling her eyebrows a little.

“Yes, he’s a suspect,” Wren said, ignoring the insinuation of the eyebrow wiggle.

Reina laughed hard, “Dylan? Non, muller. He’s a good boy, estás moi equivocada, I’ve known him since he was a kid running around the port.” Wren was about to tell her that Dylan seemed to know too much about fires for a bartender, but Jonay returned from his walk. He offered tea and Wren declined again. It was close to dinnertime, and she wanted to walk around to get a feel of the place before that. She wasn’t really hoping for another fire, but she’d gotten all the information Reina had so far, so she would have to wait for more leads. She didn’t want to push the Dylan thing yet, if he was a friend to Reina she might not be able to think of him that way unless there was proof. The fire inspectors, which for Spain was the Seprona, handled environment crimes like forest fires, and had found no evidence to indicate any of the fires were manmade. Reina said they spread quickly and jumped. Wren didn’t understand what that meant exactly because she didn’t know as much about fires as the rangers, but she trusted Reina’s expertise.

They spent the next few days going over everything, and Reina showed Wren around most of the island. They were looking around in sections and on foot, it was taking a long time. The island wasn’t that big but once you were in the woods everything seemed to look the same to someone like Wren. She relied heavily on Reina’s knowledge of the area. Wren had spent some time outside when she was younger, but she wasn’t exactly a boy scout either. They had found nothing that seemed to trigger any of Wren’s instincts. Besides the calls from the ex-employee which Wren had answered and got hung up on, Reina hadn’t found anything that raised suspicions either. It was just the fires themselves, the frequency and timing. It was all wrong for spontaneous natural fires, even if they had ‘simmered’. Hiking made Wren more tired than she’d ever been in her life. So, on the fifth night that she’d been there, when she was awoken by a loud alarm, she was so startled that she fell out of bed onto the floor.

“Ugh, what is that?” she knew she was saying but she couldn’t hear herself. She didn’t have time to change out of her pajama set, so she just threw her trench coat over it and tied it tight. She held her ears as she went out to the living room. Reina was dressed and walking rapidly to the front door, waving for Wren to follow her. Jonay was close behind along with George, the other ranger, who was yawning. They all rushed outside where the alarm wasn’t oppressive and jumped into two jeeps in pairs. Reina drove Wren toward the billowing smoke on the south side of the island. She gave her a cloth to cover her mouth in case the smoke was too bad and a bottle of water to stay hydrated.

As they pulled up, Wren could see the firefighters in action calming the fire down already. They were good; she could tell that already. Some were using hoses, some were shoveling dirt onto embers, and some were digging ditches at the bottom of the hill. Those firefighters were closest to where Reina had parked with a squeal of the tires. All four of them jumped out of the jeeps and headed off in different directions. The rangers were there to help; Wren was there for answers. She headed towards the men digging because they were the ones who could maybe talk to her. As she got close, she saw one with his helmet off with his dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck. It was Dylan, the bartender, in a firefighter uniform holding a shovel, digging a fire line in the dirt. Wren walked over and stood behind him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

He turned to see who was speaking to him. She could tell he was annoyed but then he saw her and smiled, “Digging,” he said, then winked at her then went back to work.

“But you’re a bartender,” she crossed her arms.

He sighed and stopped digging, sticking the shovel into the dirt to rest his arm on it. He was pretty sweaty. “Yea,” he said eyeing the water bottle in her hand.

She stuck it out to him, and he took it; he drank the rest of it in one gulp. She cleared her throat, “So you’re a firefighter too?” she asked. That explained how he knew so much about fires, but it didn’t take him off her suspect list just yet.

“Si, podo facer máis dunha cousa, non si?” he said, knowing she didn’t have a strong grip on the language. He smiled at her wide and she rolled her eyes. He wiped his mouth, “I do both.”

“So, the bartending is for your mom? And this is…?” she tilted her head at him.

“Very hard work, may I? Se non che importa?” he motioned to his work.

“You know I don’t know what you said,” she pursed her lips at him.

He donned a very southern American accent and said, “Por favor?” She laughed out loud then bit her lip to hold it back. He grinned and bit his own bottom lip. Nope, this was not good. He started digging again. And before she jumped in the ditch and let someone bury her, she got away from there to find another, less attractive firefighter to get answers from.

Reina got a call and had to go back to the cabin, Wren said she’d get a ride with Jonay because she hadn’t gotten any answers yet. She tried with several of the firefighters digging but none of them were talking. Then she spotted one with a clipboard, he was probably Seprona.

“Excuse me?” she called out to him. He glanced at her but then went back to inspecting. “Excuse me,” she tried again tapping his shoulder.

“I’m busy,” he said. She had no credentials to show; she was just a writer. She crossed her arms and sighed. She hovered around hoping to overhear some conversation.

Dylan was nearby throwing dirt on embers with a shovel, he whispered, “Rapidamente,” to himself.

“That means fast, doesn’t it?” Wren started toward him.

He looked up at her and sighed, “Yeah.”

“They’re spreading too fast?” she asked.

“Faster than normal,” he nodded.

“Ignóraa, só está a ser entrometida,” the man with the clipboard said.

“Ela é unha detective,” Dylan told him. It seemed like he was probably defending her right to be here and ask questions.

She tried again with either of them, “There are cameras and none of the fires have started on camera.”

“It’s just a coincidence,” the inspector said.

“It’s been three this week, if one gets way out of hand,” Wren crossed her arms. The inspector just glared at her and then shot Dylan a warning look, one that said, ‘don’t talk to her’. Authority figures, my natural enemy, Wren thought. She felt like giving up, she looked around and Jonay was gone. So was his jeep. Well, she would just have to walk back to the cabin. She had made it a little way and was walking slowly when she heard someone pull up behind her. She turned, and Dylan was stopped and getting out of a black jeep.

“You can’t walk all the way back to the ranger cabin,” he said.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. She looked him over again; he had taken his uniform jacket off and was just in a black undershirt. He looked down then back up at her sadly. It was like someone had mixed a man from a cheesy romance cover and a lost puppy, then put them on a tall muscular firefighter. Since he was a firefighter and that made him less suspicious, she had to avoid him at all costs. No matter what.

"Get in my jeep, I'll give you a ride," Dylan said.

"Okay," Wren said, and then actually did it. She followed him to the jeep and got in the passenger seat.

“You shouldn’t walk alone at night,” he said when he got in the driver’s side and started it up.

“I do it all the time,” she said.

“Are you alone a lot?” he asked, what a red flag question.

“Why don’t we just enjoy the night air?” she said.

“I’m speaking English for you, and you won’t speak?” he teased.

“Okay but nothing personal,” she said.

“Tan misterioso, eh Meiga?” he said, grinning. But she heard something like “mysterious” and didn’t ask for an exact translation.

“So, what do you really think is going on? You said it was moving too fast,” she said.

“It’s unusual but every time we inspect, no evidence of arson, no chemicals or matches, nothing like at a typical arson. We haven’t even found evidence of campfires that have accidentally gotten out of hand. But I’m not giving you any more answers about the fire if you don’t go on that hike with me tomorrow,” he said.

“Can I ask about you?” she asked.

“Sure,” he grinned.

“How long have you lived here?” she asked.

“My whole life,” he said.

“And that’s how many years?” she asked.

“Well, I’m older than you I'm almost twenty-nine,” he said.

She chuckled, “Nope, I’m thirty-two.”

“No way,” he said.

“Yes way,” she teased, causing him to look over and grin at her.

He rubbed his finger on his lip and looked at her a couple of times, “Are you sure?”

“Honestly? Not completely,” she said with a sigh. He laughed, good. That meant he thought she was just kidding. He was not the person to share her past with. But really no one was.

“But that's not a huge age gap,” he said.

“No, not huge,” she said.

“So, you'll go hiking with me tomorrow?” he asked as they pulled into the ranger’s cabin driveway.

Oh no, she could not do that, "Sure," her mouth said. She wondered if Elmer’s made a lip gloss in her color.

The next day she had Reina help her pick something to wear for a hike that was also flattering.

“So, you are starting to like Dylan?” Reina asked her. “I knew you two would have chemistry.”

“Oh no, it’s not like that,” Wren said.

“Then why try to look nice for him?” Reina asked, raising her eyebrows. The two had gotten a little close over the past few days.

“He will let his guard down and be more flustered if he’s attracted to me. It’s not chemistry, it’s science,” Wren said.

“Sounds like manipulation,” Reina chuckled, then looked Wren up and down, “or denial.”

“Nope, just social strategy, it’s a part of the investigation,” Wren said, then took off when she heard a vehicle approaching. Her and Dylan hiked over to the Alento do inferno, her choice. It was on the south part of the island where most of the fires had been happening. It was away from all the inhabited parts of the island and the campgrounds. The only thing down on that side were trees and animals. But those were everywhere on the island, besides the beach.

“So, this is the breath of hell?” Wren said as they looked down over the cliff.

“This? Nah, that’s my mom’s customers after they have her extra spicy Zorza,” he said with a laugh. It was a traditional spicy pork dish. Wren had tried Imelda’s already, it lit her mouth on fire, but it was also delicious.

“Worth it,” Wren said. Dylan smiled at her and nodded in agreement.

“So, we made it up here, now what?” Wren asked, running her hand through her hair, letting it blow in the wind. It had gotten a little longer since she was traveling so much and didn’t have time to get it cut. It was a couple inches past her shoulders.

“Did you have some questions?” he asked, leaning against a giant boulder.

“Sure,” she said, stepping up on a smaller rock, beside the one he was leaning on. “Tell me about this side of the island.”

“It’s the southside,” he said.

She scoffed, “Well I know that, but what about this side causes fires? If they aren’t human made, how do you explain their commitment to the south side.”

“Easy, eucalyptus trees,” he said, smiling at her.

“Eucalyptus? Aren’t those Australian?” she asked.

“Yeah, but they are grown here on purpose, for cultivating, and they kind of just spread around, that’s the smell,” he said.

“The smell?” she asked.

“Yeah, the minty smell in the forests down there, it’s around the island too. There are eucalyptus trees everywhere on the island, but they are really concentrated on the southside where they can be logged,” he said.

“Okay so how does that translate to fire?” she asked.

“They are very flammable,” he laughed.

“Well, they are TREES,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Not all trees are as flammable as others, they’re like people, some are hot and some are cold,” he said, looking at her intensely.

“And what are you saying about me there?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I didn’t say you,” he laughed. She pursed her lips, disappointed almost that he hadn’t been flirting. Or that he wasn’t owning up to it. Then she rolled her eyes at herself. She had a job to do here.

“So, the ‘simmer’ thing, how do fires start spontaneously, explain it to me like I’ve five,” she said, pulling her notebook out of her bag.

He laughed, “You carry that everywhere?”

“Yes,” she said, glaring at him coldly.

He smiled anyway, “Alright, well they aren’t starting at night. If they were they would need a spark, someone would need to be there to light it, there would be evidence, there is none.”

“Could someone be doing this? Is there any physical way?” she asked.

“Not without a fuel source or a spark, that’s how we know if there has been arson. There hasn’t,” he said, “that’s why Seprona isn’t treating it like arson.”

“Well, there could be a… wait,” she noticed something on top of the boulder he was leaning on, and started crawling up.

“Don’t do that, it’s leaning on the edge of a cliff,” he said coming after her. There were several boulders hanging over the cliff where they were. There was a huge pile of moss up there spread across most of the tops of the boulders.

“What would someone do with all that?” Wren asked, standing on top of the boulder.

“It’s just some moss,” he said, “get down.”

“Gathered on purpose,” she said. “Look it’s not attached to the rock, it’s up here to dry out.”

“Good eye, Meiga,” he said, then held out his hand. “Now please, get down.”

“Meiga? You called me that last night,” she said, looking at her phone app.

“Don’t look for it on there, it might translate to witch on some websites, but it actually is not like the western world would think of it. It means wise woman, someone like you who sees things others miss, and you’re mysterious,” he said. “It’s an important part of the culture, so you should take it as a compliment.”

“I’ll take it, I like learning the meaning of Galician language and culture from you more than the internet anyway,” she said, putting her phone in her pocket and finally taking his hand so he could help her down. She jumped down and was now wedged between him and the boulder. He leaned over her, at least a foot taller. His hair was falling in his eyes.

“You do?” he asked.

“Yes, well not just you, you know just actual people… but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still a suspect,” she said.

He laughed, “Oh I am? Why?”

“You know a lot about fire, and you avoid questions sometimes,” she pushed him away.

“No, I don’t,” he moved out of her way.

“Okay, what made you become a firefighter?” she asked.

“Come to dinner with me Friday and I’ll tell you,” he said.

“How do you know I’ll still be here?” she asked.

“Okay, if you still haven’t figured out the fires by Friday, I’ll take you to dinner,” he said.

“And give me more answers?” she asked, telling herself that’s all she wanted from him.

“I’ll promise more answers if you promise dinner,” he nodded.

“Deal,” she shook his hand.

Later she had dinner delivered by Barco Novo for herself, Reina, Jonay and George. She liked them all a lot. She told them about her hike with Dylan and that he wanted to take her to a place called Marisqueira d’Cibrán.

“Oh, very fancy,” Jonay said.

“Is it?” Wren asked nervously.

“It is a nice place… I’ve heard,” George laughed.

“You’ll be fine,” Reina said.

“But I didn’t bring clothes for a fancy dinner,” Wren said.

Reina looked her over, “My daughter has your shape, I have some of her clothes still at my house on the mainland.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Wren said.

“She just got her environmental science degree, she’s off in Alaska looking at the damage from an oil spill. She left behind many dresses that will fit you,” Reina said.

“Do you think she would mind?” Wren asked.

“Not at all,” Reina said. Then she got another call from the ex-employee. She handed it to Wren.

“Hello?” Wren answered.

A female voice said, “You can’t trust him,” then hung up. Wren looked at the phone suspiciously.

“What did she say?” Jonay asked.

Wren tilted her head at him, “Nothing.”

That night there was another alarm, a fire. They all rushed out the same way as the last time. But when they got there, there was nothing, not even smoke. Just a bunch of firefighters standing around looking confused. Wren saw Dylan walking toward her.

“What’s happening? Where’s the fire?” Wren asked, then chuckled a little.

“False calls are illegal, I’ve called Seprona,” he said, looking at her angrily.

“I didn’t make the false call,” Wren said.

“Well, we know someone called, and where is the fire?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t know, I just came with the rangers because of the alarm,” she said.

“Dylan, I was with her most of the night, she didn’t call,” Reina said.

He softened a little, “Well someone did, and they lied.”

“Who normally calls in the fires?” Wren asked, but she was still a little shaken over his anger, she didn’t know he could look so intense. Was he who the ex-employee meant? Had she been sneaking around spying on all of them? Lighting fires? Had she had some affair with Dylan?

“We have a secretary that handles the calls,” Dylan said, breaking her from her train of thought.

“Do they log the calls, times, and things like that?” Wren asked.

“He’s supposed to,” Dylan said.

Wren asked Reina to take her to the fire station to talk to the secretary. Just as they got there, a Seprona officer arrived. Wren rushed inside to get a look at the call log first thing before anyone could stop her.

“I need to see the call logs,” Wren said to the small man behind the desk.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“She’s with me,” Reina said, walking up behind her. He nodded and typed something into the computer then moved out of the way. The Seprona officer came inside, and Wren hurried to the computer.

“Who is that?” the officer asked, pointing at Wren.

“I don’t know,” the secretary said.

“She’s working with me,” Reina said.

“Oh, hi Reina, how’s Noa?” the officer asked.

“Better since she broke up with you,” Reina said. Oh man there was history there.

“What is your name missy?” the officer asked Wren.

“I’m Wren,” she said, “and you are?”

“I’m with Seprona,” he said crossing his arms.

“This is officer Vasquez,” Reina said. “Finally get over from the mainland? You’re not too good for us tonight?”

“Iago Vasquez, and I need you to get away from that computer, it could be evidence,” he said to Wren, ignoring Reina.

“Oh, so now you believe there is a crime?” Wren asked.

“Since there was a false report,” he nodded, “I think it could be linked to the fires.”

“You don’t say?” Wren asked as she discreetly printed the logs. The printer started up and he turned to look at it. “Who do you think it is?” Wren asked to distract him as she stood up.

“Probably some pyromaniac. Noite da Queimada is coming up, and people get really into it,” he said.

“It’s a wonderful cultural tradition and celebration, have some respect,” Reina said.

“It’s a way for people to live in the past like it’s the dark ages, and someone mentally unstable could take it too far,” he said eyeing Reina.

“How dare you, non me toques os collóns, cabrón!” Reina shouted at him.

He held his hands up and laughed, “I’m kidding, I just like seeing you mad,” he said with a wink.

Wren walked over the printer and grabbed what she needed. “I think those of us who are taking this seriously should take a look at these somewhere else.” She could tell the things he was saying were deeply offensive, and Reina had every right to be mad at him. He was being a jerk which was typical of authority figures and ex-boyfriends.

“Don’t go away mad, I was kidding, but not about the pyro,” Vazquez said. Wren ignored him and her and Reina walked out. He called after her, “You’re not needed whoever you think you are.”

“What a jerk,” Wren said when they got in the jeep. She had a log in her phone for when the fires had been happening because Reina had kept track. Reina was better at this than that guy, and it was actually more his job to keep track of things like this than hers.

“He dated my daughter and still hasn’t gotten over it,” Reina said as she started the jeep and took off.

“Well that just shows how special she is, and how pathetic he is,” Wren said, looking over the logs and comparing them. She tilted her head, “That’s strange.”

“Something wrong?” Reina asked.

“Who lives over where the fires have been happening?” Wren asked.

“The southside? There are no houses over there,” Reina said.

“So, who is seeing the fires and calling them in?” Wren asked, “and like immediately too, all these calls to the fire station come in at midnight every time. Like they are timed.”

“They are never that big when we get there, but they move fast and jump because of the environment,” Reina said.

“The trees,” Wren said.

“Yes, and the wind over there,” Reina said. “It’s very damaging to the habitat of the magpies over there.”

“It seems like they are calling them in before anyone else sees them, who else would be over there to see it besides the person starting them?” Wren asked.

“There shouldn’t be people over there in the middle of the night,” Reina said.

“But if they start the fires, why call the fire department?” Wren asked.

“So, they don’t get out of hand? Why would someone do that?” Reina asked.

“Right? Why set a fire and then call to have it put out?” Wren said. She couldn’t get a grip on it just yet, there had to be a motive, and a pyro would not have one. She would have to let the question simmer, like the fires were supposedly doing. She looked at Reina, “We have to tell Dylan,” Wren said.

“I have to tell Jonay,” Reina said. Once they were back at the cabin, they had to wait for Jonay to return. Wren showed him the call logs, and he got quiet and paced around the cabin for a bit.

“This looks like someone,” he said.

“You believe it’s intentional now?” Reina asked.

“Looks like it, I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you before,” he said.

“How could you know, there was no evidence?” Reina said.

“You guys want some tea?” he asked, heading toward the stairs.

“No thanks, I’m going to make coffee,” Wren said and headed for the coffee station. Once everyone was back in the living room area with warm drinks, they talked more about the situation. Jonay suggested the ex-employee or the company that had tried to buy the place. He laughed off Wren’s suggestion that Dylan was a suspect. But then he stopped laughing like the thought of something else suddenly hit him. Wren asked and he said it was nothing, she didn’t push him because he probably wouldn’t tell her. Dylan was very well liked in this town; she would have to watch him closely for herself. Reina and Wren were glad to have Joney on their side now. But there was no new evidence, the Seprona officers didn’t find anything unusual at the site. The Seprona were maybe starting to take it seriously but sending one guy to the fire station, and a bad one, didn’t look promising. Word spread like a wildfire about the calls, Wren hadn’t told. The rangers hadn’t either, but now everyone believed it was intentional. The thing is, that made the investigation harder, not easier. Now everyone was on edge and calling the rangers to report a suspicious hiker. Everyone had a theory and now Wren couldn’t question people without hearing about a theory they’d already come up with. So much for just putting out feelers without outright talking about the arsonist.

So, Friday came and she was still there, which meant she had to go out to dinner with Dylan. She felt even less like going after seeing his anger flare up the last time she saw him. At the false alarm fire scene. He had accused her of being the false caller and it had felt like a dagger in her heart. The implication of that was scarier than his anger, the fact that she cared. She had men mad at her all the time, they had accused her of plenty, especially people in authority. She never cared; in fact, it almost always amused her. So why now? Why with this person? Sure, she saw that he was cute, but that wasn’t enough to hurt her. She would have bailed but she had promised. And there were also still things she wanted to find out from him. So, she let Reina bring her Noa’s dress. It was a dark red wine and off the shoulder. It had a split up one leg with ruffles around the split. It was so not her, but she couldn’t help but like it on herself. It fit her almost perfectly. She wore makeup, which was rare, and curled her hair, which she swept to one side. She waited on the porch for Dylan, and Jonay was out in the driveway talking to someone in a suit. Was that the realtor again? Harassing them about helping get the land? There was a car behind him with a green logo on the door, she couldn’t see it clearly, but then Dylan’s jeep came around the corner and pulled in. He was picking her up to take her to the ferry. He got out of his jeep wearing slim fit black dress pants and leather shoes. A white button-down shirt, with the top few unbuttoned, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was loose and wavy, he looked good. He looked too good.

“Meu corazón…” he murmured under his breath when he saw her, putting his hand on his chest.

She tilted her head at him, “Something wrong?”

“I just got confused for a second, thought I was in the wrong outfit,” he said.

“You look fine,” she said, because he looked more than fine. She saw the businessman leave out of the corner of her eye but still couldn’t see the logo.

“I meant because I wasn’t in my fire gear and you…” he walked up to her and took her hand and spun her around once to make her dress skirt flair, “are on fire.”

She giggled, then caught herself, “Okay, this is a business dinner.”

“It is? Dressed like that? No, you are required to dance in that dress,” he said, leading her to his jeep.

“If you can get me to dance, I will have to start calling you meiga, because how you got that to happen would be a real mystery,” she said and he laughed, as he helped her into his jeep. They took the ferry to the mainland and a cab to the restaurant. Marisqueira d’Cibrán, a seafood place that had live lobsters in tanks. It was a lot nicer than she was used to, but the food was probably amazing, so she didn’t complain. They were seated by a host and then a waiter walked by with a Pulpo á feira on a wooden plate. They served the same thing at Barco Novo, but this octopus wasn’t chopped up and was instantly recognizable.

"Oh no... coco," she whispered to herself.

"What was that?" Dylan asked.

"Oh, nothing, that person's dinner just looks like a friend of mine," she said. But besides the octopus everything looked and smelled delicious.

“What?” Dylan shook his head, confused.

"Never mind, listen. Before we order, I'd like to know if you're really going to answer my questions like you promised," she said, picking up the glass of water already sitting in front of her.

"Slow down, we have all of the dinner you also promised to have with me, but if I answer yours you have to answer some of mine." He smiled and she tried not to be charmed. But charm is deceitful and she didn't want to go into her personal life.

"If I tell you about myself you won't be able to call me meiga anymore," she said

"You will still be wise and enchanting, so I will," he said. She took a sip of her drink and didn’t respond. So, he said, "Are you still suspicious of me?"

"I'm suspicious of everyone equally, you can never count anyone out, no matter how much you like them," she said.

"So, you like me?" He smiled

"That's not exactly what I said," she took another sip.

"Okay, but if you say it could be anyone how do I know it's not you?" he asked, playful but also a little serious.

"Me? I wasn't even here when they started," she felt a pang at another accusation. Is this what it felt like to be on this side of that? She shook off her hurt and chose to be cold and calculated instead.

"How do I know that for sure?" he asked.

She smiled, "You're right."

"I am?" He looked surprised.

"Not about me obviously, but that way of thinking, outside of the box, looking at it from every angle, not being too sure about anyone until the truth is uncovered, that's good," she said.

“So, I should be questioning you?” he grinned at her.

“Not until I question you,” she said.

“I’ve answered a few, now it’s your turn,” he said, setting his jaw. His usually sparkling and playful green eyes could get really intense when he was being serious, and it was hard to bear.

She knew if she wanted to get anything out of him, she was going to have to say something. "Okay, ask me something," she said.

"Where did you grow up?" he asked.

"Washington state," she said, he raised his eyebrows and she cleared her throat, "in and around Seattle"

"Family?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"No? You didn't have one or you don't want to answer?" he asked.

"Just no," she said.

"You had to have had parents," he said. "It's almost biologically impossible to not have at least two."

She sighed, "The only thing I'll say is that there is only one person I still considered family up until I met my mentor Felix, and that was an old lady across the street named Selma, she watched murder mysteries all the time and I was there a lot. No one else matters."

He was looking at his plate nodding, then looked up at her solemnly, "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" she asked.

"For whatever happened," he said.

"Nothing happened, that's just all you're getting and it's your turn," she said. "What about your childhood?"

“Well,” he leaned back and put his hands behind his head, then he looked up thoughtfully, “my father died in a fire when I was young, I was terrified of them since then, I hated them, which is why I became a firefighter.” On the surface it would seem someone who feared and hated fires so much wouldn't start them, but trauma isn't rational or logical. It can make you do things that seem counterintuitive. If he was lying about his dad to seem less suspicious, he was on the wrong track.

She heard a distant train whistle for a moment but shook it off, “And the scar?”

“I was on one of my first calls, I thought it was a typical house fire, but the resident was on oxygen, it blew up. A window exploded just as I approached the house. A piece of glass got my cheek, and almost got my eye, but thankfully didn’t,” he said.

“Was it rude to ask?” she asked him.

“Not at all, I’m not insecure about it, what do you think? It’s not too damaging to my good looks, is it?” he asked with a wink of the scarred eye.

She blushed and shook her head ‘no’, they chatted more through dinner, but she didn’t answer any more questions about her life and so he wouldn’t either. They were at a standoff on that. But they talked casually about other things. It felt like a date more than an interrogation. There was even dancing and she couldn’t believe it. It got late, and she was ready to go back to the cabin and go to bed as he paid the bill.

"My mom's visiting her sister this weekend," Dylan said as he handed the waiter the check. Wren didn't know where he was going with it, or did she?

"Oh?" she asked.

"I have the apartment to myself tonight," he eyed her over his drink.

The next morning, she walked into the ranger cabin in her dress from the night before, tiptoeing to the guest room.

"Wren?" Reina called from the main kitchen

"Shit,” Wren whispered, then bit her lip. She tiptoed quietly to her guest room door and put her hand on the handle as Reina walked in carrying two cups of coffee.

"Late night?" Reina asked.

"Yeah, I just woke up, I didn’t get back here until late last night," Wren said.

"Too late to change your dress?" Reina pointed to it and winked as she handed her coffee.

Wren looked down at herself, “Oh yeah, I just crashed as soon as I got in.”

She took the coffee and sipped it a few times, and said, "I'm gonna take a shower and change really quick.” She really wanted to sleep because she hadn't gotten much of that the night before, barely any answers either. She was letting Dylan distract her and that wasn’t good. Not that the night before wasn’t good, she was more suspicious of him now. But even that didn’t make her regret what had happened. Humans need certain things sometimes and getting those certain needs met regularly helps keep the mind clear. Now that that was out of her system, she could focus on the case without distractions even if certain people were around and shirtless or sweaty and covered in dirt and soot.

Everyone in town was talking about two things all the time, the pyromaniac and Noche de San Juan. The island was having a big celebration, the Queimada Ritual, that lasted all night. There would be fireworks launched by the fire station, on a boat in the ocean. Lots of food, music, dancing. Reina told Wren all about it over the next few days, she was excited and it was rubbing off on Wren. It was also a good chance to be around everyone and see if anyone was suspicious. There would be lots of fire there, a huge bonfire on the beach, and the queimada punch itself that would be on fire. It felt a little ironic that the problem that brought Wren there was fire and now they were going to be using it to celebrate. But she didn’t think they were related at all. She couldn’t wait to prove that asshole officer wrong about it either. Reina instructed Wren to write down anything bad in her past that she wanted to burn away.

“This is something for anyone who joins the party?” Wren asked to be clear.

“Si, si, you’re fine,” Reina said. Wren’s heart warmed a little. She was here on business, but she really liked these people. Especially Reina, and maybe Dylan if he wasn’t secretly an arsonist. Wren borrowed more of Noa’s clothes for the party, a long flowy black skirt and nude colored strappy top with some tan ankle boots. It was cool enough but wasn’t showing a lot of skin. Reina layered on some jewelry that Wren wouldn’t normally wear, but she liked it.

Barco Novo was cooking for the whole island, a huge feast to be served on the beach just outside of the inhabited part of the island. Wren and Reina went to help set the whole thing up. Dylan was there working hard to set out the giant wooden tables and prepare the bonfire. People were bringing all sorts of chairs and drinks. There was a big pot set up to mix the queimada punch. Kids ran around excitedly, and there were some small rides and games set up on the boardwalk. Bands were setting up to play on a little stage on the beach. Some people were laying out the herbs that Reina had mentioned. They would leave the herbs to soak in water in the open air, all night long. At dawn on the next day, many would wash their faces in the water. There would be a ritual with the punch and fireworks, and some would swim in the ocean at midnight. Wren wasn’t dressed for swimming, so she would skip that part entirely.

Dylan was so busy he didn’t even see her, she saw him talking to people in the band that was setting up on the stage. The members looked like they were his age. She wondered what kind of friends he had. She shook it off; she was supposed to be investigating. But she could also have a little fun, and she was starving. Imelda and the staff of Barco Novo started bringing the food, and Wren offered to help carry and serve. Dylan joined in helping and finally acknowledged her.

“Thanks for helping,” he said.

“No problem,” she said and walked quicker to get away from him. The festival went on and she tried to talk to people, but no one wanted to be reminded of the bad fires. There was too much fun going on around the good ones. She sat on a beach chair with a drink and sighed. The sun was about to set, and the ritual was going to begin soon. Suddenly Dylan was sitting next to her.

“I think you’re the only person here who looks sad,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m fine,” she shook her head.

“Spit it out meiga, what has you down?” he asked.

She wanted to cry suddenly, wanted to jump into his arms and let it all out. It was so not like her. She swallowed her own heart, and smiled at him, “I’m just tired.” She could tell he didn’t believe her, but he let it go. The ritual was starting anyway.

Watching them pour the flaming liquid into the cup, Wren realized how beautiful fire could be. A symbol of purification. Something destructive turned into something to celebrate, a rich history of tradition and memories. A culture and a community coming together to keep the ties that bind alive every year. She saw all the smiling faces around them and felt a little lonely. She had hardly any ties, and it looked so comforting to be a part of something. Truly be a part of it. She tried to watch the faces of anyone looking at their drink or the original bowl of fire. Most of them looked joyful because it was a celebration so that was natural, but did any of them look at fire like a pyromaniac would? No one that she could see. This was not about people being mystified by a legend. They were just normal people having a good time with stories and togetherness. There was nothing dark or backwards about it. Iago was so wrong, even if he had just been saying it to get under Reina’s skin. Wren didn’t see anything mentally unstable about any of this. She knew all along that if there was a pyromaniac, it would have nothing to do with the queimada. People all over the country hold these celebrations all the time. She didn’t think this was a pyromaniac at all, there was something too controlled about it. A pyromaniac wouldn’t call the fire department.

“Can I get you one?” Dylan asked. She smiled and nodded. The ritual over the punch was recited. At the end, everyone cheered loudly, and the cups were filled with the flaming liquid. When Dylan got back with their drinks, she stood up and they tossed their items in the fire to burn away the past. Wren held her paper for a moment thinking about what it said. The things that had happened in her hometown, she wished she could erase it from her memory, but maybe the fire would burn away some of the pain. She tossed it in and watched it burn. It felt good, but she wasn’t sure she had let it all go just yet. This was a new thing for her and not really her belief system. It was symbolic anyway, a way to feel refreshed. She stood closer to Dylan and tried to see what he threw in but couldn’t. She sipped her drink according to his instructions. The music had started, some type of bagpipes were playing and it made her miss Felix. Ireland was the closest thing she had to a home right now. Dylan must’ve noticed her melancholy because he grabbed her hand and made her dance with him. She let it happen for a while but after about three songs he stopped on his own.

“I have to go out on the boat to help light the fireworks, do you want to join me?” he asked. It was dangerous, but they wouldn’t be alone out there.

“Sure,” she shrugged. They went out into the ocean far to keep the falling embers off of the land. Considering all that had been happening, Wren wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Dylan and two other men were the only other people on the boat. One drove the boat, Dylan and the other guy lit the fireworks. Wren sat on the boat’s bow and watched. The fireworks exploded above them and then the sparks rained down all around them. They looked like stars floating in the sky; she felt like she was in outer space. She looked over at Dylan, and he was staring at her, looking mesmerized. She smiled at him and he smiled back. After the box for the grande finale was lit, Dylan helped Wren off the bow and held her from behind. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly.

In that moment, her usual defenses were useless and she said, “Yes.” It was a mistake, because the next thing she knew, they were going overboard. She screamed as they splashed into the ocean.

Dylan didn’t let go of her the whole time and they surfaced. He was laughing as soon as his mouth was above water, “See? We’re fine.”

“DYLAN!” she shouted. “What are you trying to do? Kill me?”

His smile dropped, “What? No, this is the swim, I knew you wouldn’t do it without a swimsuit, so I just figured I’d help you out.”

“How did you know I could swim?” she asked.

“You told me about the scuba diving,” he said. Well, that was true. She just scoffed and started swimming toward the boat. Dylan stopped her, “No, we can make it to shore.”

“How far is that? The bonfire is like a mile away,” she said.

“The other part of the beach is closer,” he said and motioned to another, closer part of the island. An isolated beach. She knew he wanted to be alone, and it was a special night. But she had to be rational and logical. Well, since the first time hadn’t gotten him all the way out of her system, maybe she needed a round two.

At dawn they made their way back to the main beach on land, walking slowly and holding hands. She got to where some people were washing their faces with the herb water and got in line for her turn.

“Where have you been?” Reina walked up and asked her. “You were gone for hours.”

“We just went for a swim and a walk,” Wren said, motioning to Dylan.

“Ahh,” Reina said, raising her eyebrows.

Wren looked around, “I haven’t seen Jonay all night.”

“He skipped it this year, something is shaking him lately. I think the fires are bothering him, he loves this place,” Reina said. “How is Dylan?”

“He’s fine,” Wren said.

“So, you’re not suspicious of him now?” Riena asked.

Wren shrugged and didn’t deny or confirm anything. Now that this party was over, she could buckle down. No more Dylan unless she was questioning him, it was time to find out who the arsonist was. But first they all needed a lot of sleep after staying up until dawn. Wren took a long nap and woke up at ten at night. They all had a late dinner in the cabin and went out on the back porch to talk and have coffee. Well, except for Jonay, he had his tea. Wren stayed quiet and just listened to the rangers talking. Reina complained about the eucalyptus being planted in the first place. Just for the economy, not for the environment. They discussed that for a while. They talked about the jobs, and the animals that had died in the fires. The damage to the land that had been minimal, but still very bad. Wren took it all in, and then said she was going back to bed. There was not much to do at night on an island that was only about ten percent connected to electricity. Most of the land was just very dark forest. She paced around in her room instead of going to sleep. She was wired after sleeping all day and having caffeine.

She read all of her notes over and over, pacing, muttering, chewing her thumbnail. What was that call about? Who couldn’t she trust? Or was the caller trying to throw suspicion on someone else? Someone wanted something, but it wasn’t fire, it was what the fire was doing. There was some other goal besides destruction. What could it be? Killing animals? No, that kind of person wouldn’t call the fire department. The calls all came at midnight, but the fires were different. Some were larger, older. None of the sites had any evidence of human interference. No fuel, no lighters or matches. Nothing to indicate anyone had touched anything. She researched all the people on her suspect list online. The ex-employee seemed to have moved to New England, but that could be faked easily. She could still be hiding somewhere on the mainland, or less likely the island. There weren’t many places to hide besides outdoors in the forest. The Walter Williams Realty company was huge. It was a very successful company with lots of interesting complaints. They had one repeat complaint, that they were putting a local real estate company out of business. The logo looked familiar, it was a quaint green house surrounded by trees. Where had she seen that? She stored it away then looked up all she could about the island, the trees on the island, animals, plants, flowers. She researched fires and the things that caused them spontaneously. It was getting really late, and despite all the sleeping during the day before, she felt like crashing out. It was four in the morning when her phone went off.

“Hello?” she said inside of a yawn.

“Did I wake you?” Dylan’s voice asked softly.

“No, actually I was just up doing some research,” she said.

“You wouldn’t happen to see any fires or smoke around, would you?” he asked.

“What?” she said, suddenly wide awake.

“I think it’s a false alarm again, this time someone didn’t call the station, they called me directly,” Dylan said.

“Who was it?” she asked.

“Well, I don’t know, it was a blocked call, and they used some sort of computer-generated voice,” he said.

“I hate AI bullshit,” Wren muttered.

“Well anyway, they said to go put out the fire on the southside,” he said, “and they said not to tell anyone else but you.”

“Oh, so you’re doing what they asked?” she scoffed.

“I didn’t know what I should do, and I…” he paused, then sighed, “I trust your judgement Wren.”

“Well, I’ll go check it out,” she said.

“I should really come with you,” he said.

“No, I’ll just take the jeep, Reina leaves the keys out in case I need it. I’ll just drive around and look for smoke, I’ll call you if I see anything,” she said.

“You can’t just wait for me? Or wake one of the rangers?” he pleaded.

“You trust my judgement or not? Just go back to bed, it’s probably a prank considering it’s the talk of the island now,” she said.

“You should…” he started.

“Dylan, I gotta go, I’ll call you later,” she said, and hung up before he could protest more. It was a waste of time arguing, and if there was a fire, it would be even more of a waste of time waiting on Dylan to get there to go see. She had already gotten dressed before dinner earlier and hadn’t got ready to go back to bed yet. She grabbed her trench coat because the nights were cooler and headed out to the jeep. She thought about waking Reina, but it was four in the morning. Not only was that annoying, but it was also not the arsonist’s usual time. This was probably a prank, so it wasn’t too dangerous. Unless the arsonist was going off script for some reason. Like with the false report. But someone wanted to mess with her specifically, like they wanted her to see something or be somewhere. Her alarm bells were ringing as she drove through the night, but she couldn’t let this lead get away.

Up ahead she saw a tiny part of the forest that looked foggier. Was it fog or was it smoke? She parked near as she could to the foggiest part of the forest and got out of the jeep. She had brought a battery powered lantern, and she held it up in front of her as she walked. Even in her trench coat she was shivering. Her boots sunk into the ground a little because it was damp. Her lantern lit up a few feet around her but not much else. It was nearly pitch black all around, only shadows of trees and bushes silhouetted out different shapes. She could hear thudding in her ears, her own blood moving faster and harder.

She saw movement, the shape of something, not a small animal, too tall for a deer or wild pony. She saw it moving the other way and sped up. It was stupid but she couldn’t let this go, couldn’t let them get away. But then she saw something else. The moss. It was gathered on the ground between two rocks in a pile. Smoke was coming out of it. That didn’t make sense. She lifted it and there was nothing but ground up leaves and some sort of flower, she knew that flower. It was a cistus plant, she’d just read about them online, they could combust at just eighty-nine degrees. There was a smell, a thick heavy smell, something strong like minty medicine. Dylan had said it was the eucalyptus trees, but it was so strong she felt it cooling her lungs as she breathed. She noticed all this in a few seconds and planned to keep after the figure, but it was too late. A book of matches with a logo on it landed in front of her, flaming. As soon as it hit the ground, a whoosh of fire flew up at her. But not before she saw that the logo on the burning book was an anchor with BN on it. Barco Novo, Dylan’s mom’s diner. Had he just called to get her out here? There was no time to grieve or think. She just had to survive. She ran, but the fire was quick, it spread out all around her. It jumped over little brooks and ditches like it was alive. This wasn’t normal for a regular fire; something was fueling it. She ran the way she’d came. Toward the road. It was too dangerous to chase someone who was obviously trying to kill her. But she didn’t know her way around, she hadn’t followed a hiking trail. The smoke was billowing now and making her confused about which way to go. Every direction looked the same.

She ran as fast as she could in one direction, but the fire kept spreading, surrounding her. The flames were closing in; she couldn't see her way around for all the smoke. Couldn't breathe. Why had she done this alone? Why did she always insist on doing these things alone? She tried to hold her shirt over her mouth to filter the air, but it didn’t help. She started coughing; her throat burned all the way to her lungs. Coughing didn’t help clear them; she just inhaled more as she breathed in. Her chest ached and shuddered with each ragged gasp. She crashed into a tree and held onto it as she began to fade out, and it was warm, too warm. She felt blisters forming on her hands already. She looked back at the direction she’d come from. There, in the distance, a dark shape emerged from the billowing smoke, moving quickly, running. She needed to keep going. To get away, but she couldn’t, it was too late.

Everything went dark…

Then there was light, a bright one, and voices. Muffled voices and a feeling, something over her mouth. She squinted at the shape in front of her.

“She’s waking,” someone said, from a distance it seemed. The light was too bright, and someone dimmed it. She breathed in the oxygen and coughed.

“Keep doing that, clear it out,” someone said, she listened to them. Someone was holding the back of her head and helping her stay upright. She was on the ground. There was an oxygen tank beside her, and a mask over her mouth and nose. Dylan was holding her up with one hand on the back of her head and the other held the mask on her face. Reina was there pacing, watching her. It took a minute, but she got back to something close to normal.

“What happened?” she asked. But she remembered, she remembered the book of matches. She couldn’t say that. He might have tried to kill her; he could be dangerous. She would pretend she didn’t know about the matches and get her and Reina to safety before she dealt with thinking it through.

“Dylan saved you, and called me, I rushed out without even telling the others,” Reina said, and Wren could tell because she still had her pajamas on.

“I told you that you should have waited on me, meiga,” Dylan said.

“Just… take me to the cabin, I’m so thirsty,” she said.

“I have water in my jeep,” Dylan said.

“NO!” Wren said, he looked confused and she shook her head, “I mean, I need coffee, caffeine.”

“You need rest,” Reina pointed at her.

“I mean, warm, I need a warm drink,” she said, rubbing her throat. “Please?”

Dylan sighed, “I’d rather you go to the hospital on the mainland, but okay, if you feel like you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I just need something warm to ease my throat,” Wren said and coughed a little. She was shaking all over, but she wasn’t cold, her hands were sore from being burned on the tree. There was some substance on them that felt like gel, aloe probably. Dylan and Reina helped her to Dylan’s jeep. She wanted to ride with Reina but couldn’t say that or she’d have to explain why she didn’t trust him. The man she’d slept with twice, what had she been thinking? How did this happen? No, those were just emotions; she needed to survive and figure out this mystery. A way to prove it was him so he could be put away, from society and from her mind. She could deal with her emotions later, if they lasted that long.

Dylan dropped her off at the cabin and she got out quickly, he called to her, “You need something for your hands, a bandage, let me come in and do that.”

“Reina can do that, thanks goodnight,” she said, slamming the passenger door of the jeep. She pretended not to see the hurt expression on his face and wobbled to the cabin. Reina pulled in right as he peeled out. Presumably mad, expressing anger loudly was a red flag for violence.

She clung to the porch post with her arm; she couldn’t grip with her hands. Reina helped her inside.

“You sit on the couch, I’ll make some coffee,” Reina said. Wren sat at the office desk instead. Reina went over to the coffee station.

“Pero que lle pasa a isto?” Reina muttered to herself and then to Wren, “I don’t know what is wrong with this coffee maker.”

“It’s broken?” Wren asked, perfect, things were going so great for her.

“Would you like some hot tea? Jonay says it’s great for respiration,” Reina said.

“Sure,” Wren said, the man probably broke the coffee pot so that someone would have to try his tea.

“I think he left some leaves down here, I’ll make you some,” Reina said. She made the tea and brought it to Wren.

It smelled so familiar as Wren sipped it. It was warm and soothing, it did help her breathe easier, but something about the smell and the taste was ringing her alarm bells. She sipped it again, “What kind of tea is this?” she asked.

“Eucalipto,” Reina said, cleaning up the coffee station.

“Eucalyptus?”

“Yes, like I said it’s good for respiration, we need that with all these fires, that’s what Jonay says,” Reina says.

“He brews it here, doesn’t he?” Wren asked, standing up.

“Yes, what’s wrong?” Reina asked.

“Something,” Wren said. She couldn’t put her finger on it, maybe because her finger was burnt to a crisp.

“Sit and let me bandage your hands,” Reina said.

“Is Jonay awake?” Wren asked, looking up at his room, his door was cracked open.

“I don’t think so,” Reina said.

“The door is open,” Wren said, and started up the steps. She was still a little woozy and staggered almost falling down them.

“Estás fatal, senta aquí!” Reina said loudly, then said, “ugh ingles with you, sit, sit.”

“I’m fine,” Wren said and went up to Jonay’s room. Reina followed. The door was ajar and Wren pushed it open. “He’s not here.”

“Maybe he went for a walk?” Reina said, but Wren noticed a tremble in her voice. She could tell something was wrong too.

“In the middle of the night?” Wren asked.

“It’s five a.m. an early walk is not so crazy,” Reina said. Wren flipped on the light and the room wasn’t much different than her own. It was a little bigger and had more things piled in it. That wasn’t unusual, he lived there for half of the year. She made her way over to his kitchen area. There was a kettle type set up. Chopped leaves, a system to make tea but something else. There was a liquid that was clear with yellow oil floating on it. Something from her research earlier in the night snapped into place.

“Eucalyptus oil,” Wren breathed. She had been barking up all the wrong trees.

“Yes,” Reina said. Wren looked around and saw the fridge and opened the door. Inside it was packed with jars of thick yellow liquid.

“Why would he be stashing all that?” Reina asked.

“This is very flammable, and in a forest full of eucalyptus trees, not suspicious at all,” Wren said. Reina covered her mouth and gasped at the same time.

“Maybe he’s using it for something else,” Reina said, but it sounded more like a plea. This was not fun. Wren wished Reina was right, that it was Dylan so it could break her own heart instead of Reina’s. Wren’s attachment to Dylan was from a few days of a fling, Reina idolized Jonay. He was like a father to her almost.

“Maybe you’re right, why don’t you go see if you can find him, and I’ll find some explanation in here,” Wren said.

“Okay,” Reina said.

“Act like nothing is wrong, don’t mention any of this to him if you find him, okay? I know you don’t want to think about it, but if it’s him, he could be dangerous,” Wren said. Reina looked like she wanted to protest, but she was too smart for that, so she just nodded.

Reina left and as much as it hurt, emotionally and physically because of her hands, she started looking for more evidence. It all started clicking in place. They had the fuel source; she had seen the moss and the compost under it next to a cistus plant. Someone was making a time bomb of sorts out of nature. She needed to find the motive. She opened his desk drawer; there was a receipt. She looked it over. Then she looked through the drawer a little more, nothing else. Then she looked on the computer at his search history. After she read through some of the sites he’d been looking at, she found the company the receipt had come from. There was a logo of the green house with trees. It all made sense. She had it, now time to present it to the authorities.

She went downstairs quietly, Reina had Jonay out on the porch facing the yard. Good woman, she was keeping him from seeing Wren come out of his room. She saw Wren and watched her come down the stairs through the window. When Wren got to the first floor they both relaxed. Wren went outside and greeted Jonay. He told her he’d been on a morning walk. Wren pretended to believe him.

“I know who the arsonist is,” Wren said.

“Oh?” Jonay asked. Reina watched them back and forth nervously.

“Yeah, I’m sorry guys, but I think it’s Dylan. I saw a matchbook at the fire last night, it was from Barco Novo. I know they hand them out to like anyone, but I think he was trying to tell me it was him. I think he wanted to be caught because he needs help,” Wren said, lying through her teeth.

“He’s a pyromaniac?” Jonay asked.

“Yes, most likely from the trauma of losing his father in a fire,” Wren lied again.

“Well, let’s call Seprona,” Jonay said, looking relieved.

Wren let Reina call the authorities, and she texted Dylan to come over. Once everyone was gathered into the living room area of the cabin, Wren stood up and greeted them. Normally she’d clap her hands once to get started but couldn’t today; Reina had bandaged her hands while they waited for everyone.

“Hello everyone,” Wren said.

“You, of all people, have this figured out?” Iago Vazquez scoffed at her. He and his fellow officers laughed a little.

“Please, have some respect, go ahead Wren,” Reina said and got up. She would be the hands of this. Everyone watched her leave and go upstairs, but Wren cleared her throat to keep their eyes on her.

“Okay, I know how the fires were started,” she said.

“Matches,” Jonay said.

“Nope,” Wren said. Jonay looked surprised and she winked at him, “Well, except for last night when someone was trying it kill me and frame Dylan.”

“What?” Dylan nearly shouted.

“Just let me finish,” Wren held up a bandaged hand to him. He sighed hard. Wren smiled at him, “Thank you for saving me by the way.” He looked a little less frustrated but not much. It had been a rough night for all of them.

“Just get to it then,” an officer said.

“Alright, the truth is that the truth isn’t always hidden. Sometimes it’s just ignored. We all missed the forest while looking for the trees. As you all know, there was no evidence of human ignition,” she said, and they nodded. “Well that’s because the fires were not started at night, and they weren’t started with human made materials. Dylan taught me about spontaneous fires and how under the right conditions there can be an incubation zone, where heat builds slowly, from hours to a day, without visible flames. It smokes for a while and then bam, a fire. That’s what was happening here, but it wasn’t an accident. Someone who knew the land very well could make this happen by creating the correct conditions. All they would have to do is have the right materials. He could gather compost made of forest debris, pack it tight under dried moss, which I found on the cliffs drying out. And then place it close enough to a cistus plant which needs to only reach eighty-nine degrees to burst into flames. All he needs now is a fuel source, to make sure it spreads.”

Suddenly the embers that had been burning in the fireplace exploded into flames, making everyone jump. Reina had tossed a small amount of oil into it.

“What was that?” Iago asked.

“That was eucalyptus oil, we found it stockpiled in Jonay’s fridge upstairs. It’s extremely flammable and basically untraceable in a forest full of eucalyptus trees,” Wren said.

“I have that for tea,” Jonay said.

“You make tea from the leaves, not the oil,” Wren said.

“So, it was Jonay?” Dylan scoffed, “How could you?”

“I didn’t do this,” Jonay said.

“That’s what you and the former junior ranger were arguing about, wasn’t it? She saw you building the incubation zone, or talking to someone from the real estate company that hired you?” Wren asked him.

“I had a good reason,” Jonay said.

“What good reason could you have for starting forest fires?” Reina sobbed.

“I was protecting the forest!” Jonay stood up.

“By burning it? And the animals that have died or lost homes?” Reina shouted back. This was getting heated.

“He’s not lying, well, not entirely,” Wren said stepping between them. “That was part of it though, wasn’t it?”

Jonay nodded. And he probably meant it on some level.

“What do you mean?” Reina asked.

“If there is suspicion of arson, it would keep the land under protected status. He felt like people like Walter Williams would not let up on trying to remove the protections, so he made it impossible,” Wren said. “He called the fire department to make sure the fires didn’t cause that much damage.”

“That’s right, I was just trying to protect the land, a little fire is better than bulldozing the whole thing,” Jonay said, looking defeated.

“True enough, but it wasn’t likely to happen. You got paranoid, you had to make sure, and what about the other company, Walter’s competitors,” Wren said. Jonay got pale, Wren sighed, “They knew about Walter wanting to buy the land, and they paid you to make sure he couldn’t. Or that’s what they told you, but really, they wanted to frame him for the fires because they want to destroy his company. You took the money, I found the receipt from the bank for the check, and I saw the emails on your computer.”

“I deleted those,” he said.

“You didn’t clear the trash folder,” Wren shrugged.

“But I still did it to protect the land, what does it hurt if I also got some money out of it?” Jonay said, but he was looking at Reina.

“I am so disappointed in you,” Reina said and turned away from him. Someone from the Seprona started arresting Jonay. Wren wanted to comfort Reina, but it was hard with her hands burnt. Dylan hugged Reina instead, and she cried onto his chest.

“Why did he keep setting the fires if he only needed one?” Dylan asked.

“Because the first fire was made to look accidental, he kept doing it to drive someone to investigate. But he also didn’t want to get caught. He put himself in a catch 22 after the first one and so he had to keep doing it to make it look like a pyromaniac.”

“I’m still hurt that you suspected me of trying to kill you, but I am very impressed,” Dylan said to Wren. “How did you figure all that out?”

“You can learn a lot burning the midnight oil,” she said.

*A month later*

Wren was on a plane again. She had recovered from her injuries on the island. Patched things up with Dylan eventually, once he forgave her, but there couldn’t be anything more than friendship. It’s not like she was going to move there and marry him. She found her walls cracking around people who made her feel like she could belong. That wasn’t what she needed right now. She needed to be around strangers. And the stranger that needed her right now was still connected to someone she couldn’t say ‘no’ to, not after what had just happened to them. So, she was headed to the United States, to solve another mystery.