asked. It was funny how being around Nick made him able to say what he was thinking, like a normal, smart person. It was a gift, really. “You’re right about me not being able to pull down that tower on a bicycle. That had to take a truck, or something even bigger. A tractor, maybe. Wouldn’t there be clues? Tracks in the field? What about that rope?”
She nodded. “Which is why I have my deputy watching the site till we get some light and the ground cools off. Then we’ll see what’s left.”
“Oh.” Of course, the fire would’ve messed things up.
“Did you see anyone leaving? Were you passed by any larger truck or tractor on the road, before you spotted the smoke?”
He tried to think back. “Not that I noticed.”
“Any sounds as you arrived? Engine noises? People talking?”
“No.” He frowned. “I was thinking it was a peaceful evening, until I smelled it. Smoke and shotguns aren’t peaceful.”
“Shotguns?” Nick demanded.
The sheriff waved a casual hand. “No shotguns. A local guy and his .22. No big deal.”
Brian thought having any gun pointed at your head was a big deal, but he didn’t want to worry Nick so he nodded. “I guess. I don’t know guns.”
“Is there anything else we can do for you?” Nick asked Sheriff Gannet. “Brian doesn’t seem to have much to add, for you to come out all this way.”
“A lot of police work doesn’t turn out to be much of anything. Speaking of which, since I’m here anyhow, I like to keep tabs on my locals. Where’re you from, Nick?”
Damon would’ve shut her nosy questions down, but Nick said, “Minneapolis.”
“What brings you here?”
“I have friends here.” Nick didn’t look specially at Brian as he said it. “Cost of living’s low. This house would rent for three times as much in Minneapolis.”
“Are you staying long?”
“If I can find work, yeah. I quit my old job.”
“Really? What kind of work do you do?”
“Whatever needs doing. Home repairs, right now.” He gestured back toward the bedroom.
“Is that what you did in Minnesota?”
Brian flinched and hoped she hadn’t noticed, but Nick’s tone stayed casual. “When I had to, sure.”
The sheriff’s expression sharpened. “What were you doing at the scene of the greenhouse fire this morning?”
“Huh?” Nick blinked. “Who says I was there?”
She raised an eyebrow and waited. Brian expected Nick to out-wait her, but after a short silence he said, “Good for your deputy. He called in my plates?”
“Taurus with Minnesota plates, like the one sitting outside. Not too many of those around here. Answer the question.”
“I was curious.” Nick shifted to a tone Brian had heard him use reporting to Olson. “I didn’t even get out of the car, but that looked bigger than simple vandalism. Do you think it’s all the same guys, or do you have a firebug taking advantage of the vandalism to cover his fun? Tonight makes the third fire in the bunch, right?”
“Why so curious? Lots of people stop along the road to gape at it. They don’t drive up close.”
“The vandals hit the farm where my buddy works.” Nick jerked a thumb at Brian. “That’s too close to home. Brian may leave his dirty socks on the couch, but I don’t want to see him burn for it.”
Brian tried to smile, like a buddy who was being ribbed by his roommate. “Aw, you care.”
The sheriff said, “What did you think you were going to do up at the scene? Do you know who’s involved?”
“Not a clue.” Nick ran a hand over his hair and gave her a sheepish look. “I wanted to help. It was an impulse. I hate people who set fires.”
Brian shivered. “Yeah.”
She stared at them for a moment, as if weighing more questions.
Nick looked down. Brian had the impression he was deliberately trying not to seem challenging. “I wish you luck with your vandalism problem, Sheriff.”
“Thank you.” She turned toward the door, took a step, then paused. “If I asked for a reference in Minnesota— someone to confirm your whereabouts and character— would I get one?”
“With a decent reason, yeah.”
The sheriff nodded slowly. “Right. Well, you take care, Brian. Ride safe on that bike. I’ll see both of you around.”
They waited, not moving, until the sound of the cop car wheels on the gravel faded. Then Nick blew out a breath and turned, grabbing Brian’s sleeve. “You’re really okay?”
“I’m fine.” Brian ran the back of his wrist across his eyes, surprised to find he was shaky. “I can’t handle cops. I never