Page 54 of Ink and Ashes
“Wait, what email?” Colson asks, his tone shifting from furious to curious.
Shit. I’d forgotten I never showed that to him.
I grab my phone off the bed and navigate to my email trash, finding the message that was sent a few weeks ago. I open it then hold my phone out for him to read.
“‘I’m watching you,’” he states, repeating the subject line ofthe email. His eyes shift to the date of the email. “You got this right after you arrived. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Like you would’ve cared,” I snap. His shoulders fall, my words hitting exactly as I intended them to. We both know he wouldn’t have given the email a second thought had I brought it to him immediately, but that doesn’t stop me from adding, “Besides, I didn’t think much of it at the time. I’m still not entirely sure what to make of it, but it seems too coincidental for it to be spam like I initially assumed.”
Colson swallows and nods, keeping his eyes on the screen for a moment as if deciding whether this makes him trust me more or not.
After a beat, he finally says, “Looks like publishing that article was dumb in more ways than one. If this is an arsonist, you have a serious target on your back.”
I scoff. “Trust me, I know.”
And the article is only going to make it bigger.
CHAPTER 20
Colson
Holland’s article has turned Ember Grove upside down. It’s calmed down a bit now, but the majority of the past week has been spent responding to various calls from townspeople with concerns about the fires or people claiming they know who the arsonist is. Our medical team has had double the usual number of calls they get in a week from people going after who they believe could be behind them, and we’ve been called to run interference for PD responding to disturbance calls a handful of times too. The entire town is up in arms about this whole situation, and the only person to blame for it has been sitting in her room at the bed and breakfast doing God knows what.
Since I confronted Holland last week, I haven’t seen her. I’m not even sure she knows what the response to the article has been, though I’m sure Cass has filled her in. Dom and Liv both had a dozen questions about Holland’s past after I impulsively spilled that information last weekend, and I don’t think either of them have spoken to her since.
I admitted that I was acting rashly when I told them; that Idid it out of anger toward her. I also told them that whatever her reason for lying, she does seem like she’s here to help. Dom agreed that she has good intentions, but I still think it’s going to take him some time to come to terms with her lie.
I understand why he’s pissed. It was one thing for me, someone who’s wanted her gone since day one, to discover she’s been lying. But Dom’s been working with her for weeks—he trusted her, and finding out that she isn’t who she says was a shock for him. Even if she has a valid reason for doing so, it doesn’t change that she’s been lying to him. I can’t imagine what it would be like to find out someone I’ve come to trust has been lying about who they really are.
I haven’t heard from her since I left the inn after the article came out, and I’m glad about that. The less I hear, the more hopeful I am that her investigation is coming up empty.
That said, I’ve spent the past few days taking a deeper look at the files she gave me. When I confronted her, I hadn’t known that they found two more candle wick tabs at the scene of one of the wildfires, and I’ll admit that it makes me question whether she’s right. As stupid as it is, plenty of people put candles in barns, so finding one there didn’t surprise me. For a candle wick tab to be found in the middle of the forest, though, is alarming. I know campers who have used candles as a form of cooking in areas where they can’t build campfires, but I know better than to assume this isn’t connected to the arsonist.
Knowing that, I’ve also spent the past week preparing the team for the next fire that follows the timeline, just in case she is onto something. And if so, we can expect the next one to happen two days from now, on July first.
Canada Day.
Which only makes matters more stressful. Because despite the chaos currently running through town and protests from FD and PD, Ember Grove’s mayor has persisted that our Canada Day festivities continue.
Every year, the town goes all out for the holiday—like they do every other one. We have a parade, food and merchandisevendors, live music, and more. The events start at eight o’clock in the morning and last well into the night, and it’s essentially just one big party. The whole town comes out for it, and on a normal year, it’s a great time. But this isn’t a normal year, and with the animosity filling the streets since Holland’s article, I thought for sure he would cancel.
He has not.
Which means we’ve also spent the past week preparing for that. The fire department and the police station will both be part of the parade, and then afterward we’ll be lining the streets to ensure everyone is on their best behaviour.
I’ve been praying to a God I don’t believe in that everything goes smoothly—that we don’t get called to a fire, and everyone has a good time.
I have a feeling I won’t be so lucky.
The Canada Dayfestivities are in full-swing, and surprisingly, things have been going better than I expected. The parade ran down Grove Street from ten to eleven a.m., and the crowds were more enthusiastic than ever. Since then, townspeople have been treating today like any other Ember Grove holiday, laughing with their neighbours, sharing stories, and overall having a great time.
After the chaos that has ensued over the past week, it really feels like we stepped into an alternate reality. I can’t help but wonder if the lack of Holland’s presence has had something to do with that.
I’m a little surprised she hasn’t made an appearance all day. Not because I was hoping she would, but because she’s inserted herself into every other aspect of this town, and I assumed she would do the same here. Then again, maybe she figured after the response to her article, it would be best if she stayed away.
Smoke is thick in the air from the fires burning throughout the province, but that hasn’t stopped the hot July sun from beatingdown on us all day, not a cloud in sight. It’s mid-afternoon now, and the streets have only gotten busier. They’re packed full of vendors, and the department set up food tents in the park in front of town hall. We’re surrounded by kids flying kites and running through the fire hoses while their parents stand by, laughing, eating, and chatting like normal. Finn is currently giving his daughters and their friends a tour of the fire engine—as if they haven’t seen it a hundred times before—while the rest of the crew leads games and activities and hands out food. Everyone is having a great time, and it’s as if all of the animosity that’s filled the town for the past week has simply vanished.
We also have yet to receive a call to another fire, and I’ve foolishly gotten my hopes up that we won’t. I know that’s probably not going to be the case, but things have been going so well, I’ve convinced myself once again that the timeline is just a coincidence.
