Page 5 of Raging Inferno

Was he an idiot on top of being incompetent? She spread her arms. “I’m lying in a hospital bed. I do not have a gun stuffed beneath my pillow.”

“Where are they?”

“You’ll have to ask your best buddy, Captain Smith.”

Rayburn narrowed his eyes. “I’ll have any personal items from your desk boxed up. You can pick them up at the front window tomorrow.”

He turned and left without another word. Presley almost called him back as a bolt of panic shot through her veins. She’d just quit her job, the one she’d strived for since she was eleven years old. That was how old she’d been when her cousin Gwen died.

There was a reason she hadn’t shouted at Rayburn to stop. It was something she’d been thinking about for a while. Scrolling through her phone, she found the number for Luke Colton of COBRA Securities. She’d thought about applying for a job ever since she’d met him a few months ago. His business was the standard of security companies, and their reputation was stellar. Presley wanted to work for them, but she figured it would materialize in the future when she was done with police work.

It looked as if the future was happening now.

Chapter One

Presley Parrish was headed home. It wasn’t something she necessarily wanted to do, nor was she looking forward to it. She’d left Serenity Shores, Minnesota, in the rear-view mirror to go to college and hadn’t looked back. Her parents had moved to Southern California, so there was nothing there for her anymore.

Except for the Cheerios.

Presley came to a stoplight on the outskirts of town and inhaled deeply. Located approximately thirty miles north of Duluth, Serenity Shores was situated on the banks of Lake Superior, the biggest of the five Great Lakes and the world’s largest freshwater lake, shared between the United States and Canada. She had some wonderful memories of the town, but she also had horrible ones, like the night her cousin died.

Neither she nor Gwen had siblings, so Gwen had been Presley’s older sister from the time she could remember. Gwen doted on her and let her tag along wherever she went. Gwen had been a Cheerio, a member of a group of six girls who had cheered together from first grade through high school. When Gwen babysat Presley, the others would be there too, practicing cheers and tumbling, laughing, and having fun. They’d accepted Presley into their group and even had an outfit like theirs made for her so she could perform with them at football and basketball games. Maybe everyone saw her as a sort of mascot, but she hadn’t cared.

Presley had been so proud to stand beside them and root, root, root for the home team. She’d started gymnastics at three years old so she could tumble up a storm. During one of the timeouts at basketball games, Presley would backflip, one after the other, down the length of the court, to the delight of the crowd. Those were the good times.

The bad had been the night Presley’s parents had sat her down and told her that Gwen died in a fire. Presley remembered it as clearly as if it’d happened yesterday instead of almost twenty years ago.

In Gwen’s honor, Presley had continued to cheer throughout junior high and high school, but her career goals had shifted. She’d always loved animals and planned on becoming a vet—and she technically had. But instead of tending to sick pets, she’d been a soldier in the United States Army. She’d taken online classes and had her degree by the time she had been honorably discharged. The police academy had come next, and she’d finished at the top of her class in almost every discipline.

Despite her accomplishments, she had been consistently overlooked and never taken seriously. The one person who had championed her cause was Captain Ed Smith, who had turned out to be a disgusting sexual predator.

The light turned green, and she continued through the intersection. Now, another Cheerio was dead. Margy Binder had passed away two days ago in, coincidently, a fire. Presley hadn’t spoken to her or any of the others since Gwen’s death, but she felt she owed it to Margy to attend her funeral.

Serenity Shores had changed since she’d left, so much so that she barely recognized her hometown. It had grown with new restaurants, shops, office buildings, and housing developments. Her first stop was at a grocery store for flowers, and then she drove to Green Hills Cemetery, situated, as the name implied, on hills outside of town. It was a beautiful setting with mature trees, a koi pond, and tasteful landscaping.

Gwen’s grave was located in the back section on Aspen Lane. Presley parked and walked down the incline to the rose-colored marble headstone carved with angel wings that read:Gwen Irene Parrish, beloved daughter, cousin, niece, friend. Gone but never forgotten.

Two vases attached on either side of the stone held plastic flowers in pink, lavender, and blue. Gwen’s parents had contracted with a local florist to supply fresh buds weekly before they’d relocated to Southern California. There were too many painful memories of their daughter to stay. Once Presley had graduated from high school, her parents joined them. Both of Gwen’s folks had since passed away.

Presley placed the bouquet of pink roses, Gwen’s favorite, on the ground before the headstone. Guilt assailed her that she hadn’t visited since she left for college.

“Hey, Gwenie, it’s me, Presley. I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve stopped by here.”

She proceeded to tell Gwen about her life and the job that she loved. “You wouldn’t believe it, but I’m not that shy girl you knew. I can take down a man three times my weight. I’m proficient in hand-to-hand combat and wouldn’t hesitate to use a gun if necessary.”

The sound of a car approaching halted Presley’s dialogue. She realized she’d been talking to Gwen for over an hour. She stood and turned to see more vehicles arriving. There must be a burial taking place soon. She said goodbye to Gwen, hopped in her SUV, and drove away before the other vehicles blocked her in on the one-lane roads.

Traffic was picking up as she navigated the main streets through town. A sign for the police station had her flipping on her signal and turning into the visitor lot. There was no reason for her to stop here. Margie’s death had been ruled accidental. Presley had read in the online papers that she’d left a burning candle unattended. Still, something nagged at her. Call it a hunch.

She found an open spot and parked. Presley glanced around the area as she traversed the sidewalk to the entry. She’d taken a class trip to tour the police station in grade school, but otherthan that, she’d never had a reason to visit. Jogging up a set of steps, she opened the door and approached the window.

“Hello. How can I help you?”

“I’d like to speak with Detective Reggie Branch.”

Presley had gone to school with Reggie and knew he’d joined the local department. She’d called to congratulate him when she found out he’d made detective a few months after her.

“Presley Parrish, is that you?”

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