“I do like my guys skinny and my women curvy, and she sure is curvy right now.” Charlie paused, then laughed. “The look on your face. No, I’m not going to date Lori. Okay?”
“Good.” Ariana should have someone like Charlie. Lori doesn’t deserve him. He pushed the idea away firmly. If Brian Found Ariana, and if she was single, he still wasn’t going to do something as pushy as try to set her up with his best friend. Anyway, what if she didn’t grow up any better than Lori? Or she could be married, or a lesbian, or in a brilliant career with no interest in dating, or… not. He couldn’t help running through all the possibilities. What if she still needs help, and I’m stalling? Dammit, I should man up and ask Brian if he feels up to one more Find.
Chapter 8
Brian had to put his feet down and lean on the handlebars of his bicycle to catch his breath, halfway home from the farm. One of the best things about the new house, besides no neighbors, was that it was close enough to bike to Yasmin’s. He had the fake driver’s license in his pocket, but he wasn’t about to use it— not with Nick’s car and having never driven anything bigger than a lawn tractor. Nick said he was always happy to give him a ride, but Nick had better things to do than be his chauffeur.
Going back up this hill every night was making him think twice about the bike, though.
The sky was getting dark in the east, and a cool breeze chilled the sweat on his forehead. It still felt more like autumn than winter, despite Christmas being only a couple of weeks away. The air even had that smoky Minnesota fall smell of burning leaves.
Brian paused and sniffed harder. That’s not just nostalgia. He’d thought the low gray haze behind the ridge above him was fog, but as he watched, it thickened and rose, almost invisible against the darkening sky. The smoke scent grew stronger.
Probably someone burning leaves. But it seemed a strange time of day for that. Or a bonfire… It couldn’t hurt to check.
He lowered his bike to the gravel shoulder and cut across the ditch, running up the weed-tangled side of the hill. The smoke tickled his nose and throat. He coughed and glanced back down to make sure he could get to his bike easily if this turned out to be the dumbest idea of the month. The ridge crested a few yards ahead. Brian took a dry, smoke-tinged breath and hurried to the top.
Shit! The grassy hillside below was smoldering. Little red and yellow flames flickered along the ground fifty feet away, where a bent metal tower of some kind lay bowed over, its mechanism toppled into the dirt. Smoke rose thicker every minute.
Brian fumbled in his pocket for his phone. 911? Nick had set a single-touch logo for that and he tapped the screen. Dammit! His stupid, stubby fingers took three tries to hit the right spot.
He heard, “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” and he tripped, the phone flying out of his grasp as he planted hands first into the dirt. When he tried to stand, something tugged at his ankle. He rolled over and found a long rope wrapped around his foot. What—? He unsnagged himself and stood, staring down at the loop in his hands.
A gruff voice off to his left yelled, “Drop the rope! Hands up! Now, boy. I ain’t kidding.”
Brian dropped the loop and turned, but he waved at the burning field with one hand even as he raised the other. “Call nine-one-one! There’s a fire!”
“No shit.” The man hurrying toward him was big and bulky, hard to make out in the uncertain light. His long gun was easy to see, though, pointing right at Brian’s face.
Brian raised both hands fast, his throat dry. “I came to help.”
“Bullshit. Cops’re on their way.”
“Oh, good!” He began to relax.
The man snapped, “Hands up! Now!”
Brian jerked his hands higher again. “Listen, you don’t understand—"
The gun guy said, “I’ll let the sheriff understand. Motherfucker. Don’t move.”
“Huh?” Sirens in the distance cut off Brian’s words. They stood frozen in that awkward pose on the ridge as a cop car, followed by a fire truck, crested over the hill, wailing shrilly, and raced toward them. The emergency vehicles pulled onto the shoulder close below. As the sirens died, he heard others approaching in the distance. The