Black Creek Burning (The Black Creek Series, Book 1)

By R.T. Wolfe

After six long years, Brianna Chapman is finally able to cope with witnessing the murder of her parents.

Then, dead animals start showing up on her doorstep, her tires are slashed and her yard is scorched by an unexplained fire.

But Brianna refuses to reopen her parent's six-year-old arson-murder cold case, along with all the old wounds.

Nathan Reed sees the incidents differently and quietly begins an investigation of his own.

As Nathan's and Brianna's lives and passions intertwine, Nathan discovers a painful truth. Brianna's parents weren't the arsonist's target. Brianna was.

And the killer is back to finish the job.

THE BLACK CREEK SERIES, in order
Black Creek Burning
Flying in Shadows
Dark Vengeance

THE NICKIE SAVAGE SERIES, in order
Savage Echoes
Savage Deception
Savage Rendezvous
Savage Disclosure
Savage Betrayal
Savage Alliance

• Language: English
• Publisher: ePublishing Works
• Release date: Jan 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781614173885

R.T. Wolfe

It's not uncommon to find dark chocolate squares in R.T.'s candy dish, her rescued Saint Bernard at her feet and a few caterpillars spinning their cocoons in the terrariums on her counters. You can contact R.T. through her website: www.rtwolfe.com

Book preview

Liz.

Chapter 1

The yellow cab turned onto the short cul-de-sac. Brie leaned back, slightly buzzed, and thought of how the dark street looked much the same as it did when she was a little girl.

Deep horseshoe drives, towering trees and well-kept yards framed the pavement. Like her parents' home, many were classic Victorians with small, square porches setting between towering white pillars. An occasional Colonial or English Tudor was thrown in the mix, yet the familiarity of the ancient road gave her a sense of serenity. She smiled even as the smell of stale cigarettes and dirty carpet mats filled her nose.

She and Liz had spent the evening at their favorite hole-in-the-wall pub. Her faded blue jeans and NYU collared shirt fit the nonexistent dress code nicely. Together, she and her sister celebrated the keynote speaker address Brie had landed for their district conference.

Stopping at the curb, she noticed her parents' Lincoln Town Car. They weren't due home until the next day, and she had parked in their spot. She felt a twinge of guilt, realizing they couldn't fit in their own garage. After paying the driver, she stepped out into the balmy, upstate New York night.

The house was, indeed, a classic with decorative latticework framing the awning of the square front porch and windows. It was clear that night, and the air hung stagnant. Brilliant moonlight shone on the bold color of the low-lying dianthus blooming red along the walk that led to the square porch. Her mother preferred bushes, mostly dark green and thick to adorn the length of their home, but always maintained a row of color.

As she meandered up the path to their house, she felt queasy, like she'd done this before. Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder through her mass of wavy brown hair as she kept moving toward the front door. Two people were walking along the street. She stopped and wondered what reason anyone would have to take a walk at this time of night in such an early bird neighborhood.

It was then she heard the shrill of the smoke detectors. Chest tightening, she bolted for the door.

For too long, she fumbled with the keys in one trembling hand before trying the knob with the other. Damn it, it was already unlocked. Mom! Dad! she screamed and tumbled inside, spotting them almost immediately as they ran down the long upstairs hallway.

Not again. Please not again, she begged, as she fought her frozen legs to make them move up the stairs. The smoke detectors shrieked in her ears. Or was that the shrieking coming from her lungs?

Her parents yelled her name as they reached for the bedroom door. She couldn't stop gasping for air long enough to tell them to stop. She wasn't in there. Didn't they know? If she hadn't taken her damned sweet time getting in, she could keep her parents from opening the door. They needed to get out of the house. Couldn't they smell the smoke?

Just like each time, her viewpoint from the middle of the stairs showed her the yellowish air sucking under the door to her bedroom. Although trying to use the railing to give her momentum, every part of her felt like it was in molasses. She cocked her head to the side, drawing her eyebrows together. Her gaze locked on the eerie breeze.

Almost simultaneously, her mother rotated the knob as her eyes turned and met hers. For that fraction of a second, her mother understood the fear on Brie's face, but it was too late. It was always too late. As she opened the door, Brie had just enough time to witness her parents engulfed in flames before the explosion blew her back and everything went dark.

* * *

Brie, wake up. Wake up, Brie. You're dreaming.

She opened her eyes to Brian as he shook her gently.

Sitting up with a start, she took three, quick gasps of air, her tank damp with sweat.

It's all right now, he said, pulling her toward him.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. I just need a minute. Rubbing her hands over her face, she headed down the hall to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the side of the vanity. She looked in the mirror at the dark rings under her eyes and thought of how her mother should be the one standing there.

Although the night of the fire was long ago, the dream's vividness had yet to fade. The taste of the smoke. The crackle of the fire. The rush of the water hoses. The piercing sirens. She splashed water on her face, rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder and put on her running gear. She shook her head twice and headed back to the master bedroom of the home she grew up in.

With her hair tied up and her dog's leash in hand, she found Brian waiting in her bed, slouched with his back against her headboard. He ran a hand over his short crop of hair; the man who had been a good friend to her, the man who helped put out the fire.

His eyes turned to her as she noticed the single, deep rise and heavy fall of his chest.

Got a minute? he asked.

Sure. Will you need a ride to work? I should get Macey out for a run first.

One day on and two days off, Brie, same as always. You picked me up from the station yesterday. Sit down, will you?

She sat on the crumpled sheets, faced him and crisscrossed her legs. I guess you'll need to take me to work then. Forcing the corners of her mouth up, she folded her hands in her lap. Today's going to be a busy work day.

Brian sat up and faced her. You were dreaming about the fire. It wasn't a question.

Shrugging, she looked away.

You were amazing, you know.

She jerked back to face him and felt her face scowl.

With the back of your head bleeding, you came to, still strapped to the gurney, and started shouting orders to the crew. The guys at the station still razz the rookie who forgot to secure your legs and ended up with a face full of your foot. He may have bled more than you did.

He paused long enough to make her uncomfortable.

You couldn't have saved them.

She stiffened. I know that.

She concentrated on his eyes. They were acorn brown, framed with a short buzz of blond hair that stood straight up. Why did he look so sad? It wasn't like this was a new dream.

His shoulders fell forward as he reached for her hands. You won't let me in.

She paused, keeping her focus on his expression. I can't give you more, you know that. Although she knew he wouldn't be surprised, the quick wince of his face caused her to drop her gaze to her folded hands.

Brian took a breath, cupped a hand under her chin and slowly lifted. I know and I'm sorry, but I can't keep chipping away at this ice. I need to be done.

Looking back up, she turned her head away slightly. Ice? Are you serious? Instinctively, she pushed at his hand.

"Sorry... sorry. I didn't mean you're ice, just that... come on, Brie, we've been friends for too long. I don't want this to end badly."

It won't. I'm okay. Picking up the leash, she walked toward the hallway.

Brie, we swore if this didn't work, it wouldn't end the friendship.

She stopped when she reached the doorway, placing one hand on the jamb. She didn't face him. It's really okay. I'll bring some food by the station the next time the Giants play. She let out two short whistles, and a golden retriever followed her down the stairs and out the front door.

Ice. Great.

* * *

You fucking idiot, Rob repeated to Brian as they pulled up to the fire station.

How many more times you gonna need to say that? he grunted.

Rob slowly shook his balding head. I'm not sure. You idiot.

Should I have stayed with her after six years of being friends and months of dating that weren't any more than us being friends?

Were you having sex?

You picked me up from her house this morning, asshole. You know we were sleeping together.

Sex with a low-maintenance brunette who has a great rack. Sounds like more than friends to me. You idiot.

Yeah. You're probably right. He stepped out of the car.

I guess that just clears the way for me to move in.

You even think about it and I'll kick your ass. Friends don't move in on friend's ex's. He dug uncomfortably for his keys out of the pockets of yesterday's wrinkled work pants.

I laid off for how many years while you figured out how to get her to go out with you? Now, I still have to lay off? Well, fuck me. Who made up these rules anyway? Just kidding, man. Come on, cheer up. I'm only going to give you shit about this... well, always.

He opened the door to his car as Rob walked up to the station. I'm just going to go in and tell the B-shift what a fucking idiot you are before I head on home and go back to bed.

* * *

She sat in the drive in her seasoned truck, enjoying the look of how everything lay covered with a fresh blanket of snow. Brie wondered why she wasn't pouting in her bedroom, but she simply didn't feel sad. Worried, definitely, at the fact that she couldn't even make it work with nice-guy Brian McKinney, but not sad or really even disappointed. Maybe she was ice, she conceded.

She looked up at the west side of the home she had rebuilt. The two stories included rows of windows on each level. The pillars had been salvageable after the fire. They were painted with a fresh coat of white each year just like when she was a child. White shutters framed each of the windows as well as miniature balconies for the ones on the second story.

Only the landscaping had been altered. Inkberry holly and spring-blooming viburnum stood leafless in the fresh snow. The upright junipers that grew at the corners of the house were the only winter green. She carefully chose an array of plants that alternately bloomed throughout the spring, summer and fall, yet presented an organized, sophisticated look that blended with the appearance of the house.

Putting the car in gear, she tried to prioritize the list of things she had to do before the end of the work day. She still had enough time to arrive a full two hours before her first meeting. Between that and the appointment with the assistant superintendent after school, she needed to find time to finish the comments on her report cards by the four o'clock deadline.

She took in one fast, deep breath, let it out slowly and pulled out, noticing she made only the second set of tire tracks in the morning snow. The sun was just coming up, the evergreens and naked oaks casting long shadows over the white. The wind was calm, but the air bitter cold. She didn't mind the cold. However, the drive did little to settle her.

Ice. Get over it, she convinced herself. So, she wasn't interested in love and marriage. She had always been honest about that.

Thinking of the upcoming winter break, she considered how nice it would be for her students to have some time to spend with their families before the demands of second semester began. She, too, could use the break, take some time for herself and get ahead on work. Her sister, best friend and fellow teacher in the same building, called it detox time, and they christened each with a night at Mikey's Pub and Grill. She probably should have called Liz before work to tell her about Brian, but she wasn't ready to go through that story with her just yet.

After eight years of working at Bloom Elementary, Brie moved toward more district projects rather than keeping her focus solely on her classroom. The staff seemed to trust her ideas, for the most part, and her research. However, not everyone admired her knack for teaching adults as well as children. She'd been asked to give a handful of presentations on the research regarding society's preconceived opinions of students' academic abilities based on social and economic backgrounds. It was no secret she turned down offers to move into administration. She simply wanted to work with children.

She was one of the first to arrive, so the hallways were quiet and some still dark. As she walked past Susie Phillip's second-grade classroom, she noticed the light on and popped her head in the doorway. What are you doing here so early?

Susie turned and leaned back in her chair. Report cards. How about you? I figured you'd be done days ago.

Every time I'm done, I think of more comments to add. Will you come for New Year's Eve?

Of course. Wouldn't miss it. You know we used to have staff Christmas parties around here until you came along with your New Year's Eve deal. I heard our favorite boss is going to make an appearance.

Ouch, Brie grimaced. At least she never stays too long. No television cameras or news crews.

Susie shook her head and turned to her computer. I'd better get back. Deadline is looming.

She continued down the empty hallway. Her sensible, low-heeled pumps echoed as she turned the last corner. Purposely, she always dressed for work conservatively in slacks and basic-colored blouses with an occasional blazer. The feeling of cool air blowing from her classroom caused her to wish she'd chosen the blazer that morning. The noises from portable radios and the voices of men caused her to hesitate. They were speaking to her principal, Sandy Finley. She considered stopping to listen but understood her shoes had likely given away her presence in the hall. Instead, she walked in. Her eyes went first to the shattered wall of windows, then moved to the same two officers that had come the last time this happened.

Chapter 2

Taking a deep breath, Brie lifted her chin and addressed the trio. Good morning, officers, Sandy. Do we know what happened?

It looks like rifle practice, along with a few large rocks this time. Seems your windows must be an easy target, being in the back of the building and all, the first officer answered, chewing on a plastic coffee stirrer. Do you have any reason to think this would be more than a coincidence now that it's happened twice this year, Miss Chapman?

She felt cool droplets of sweat form along the back of her hairline. She thought of the other incidents but decided they had nothing to do with this. No, she answered, pulling on her ear. Nothing, officers. Is there anything I need to adjust for my class today? Sandy, do you want me to relocate?

The second officer interrupted, Plywood should do for now. The glass repair crew can come tomorrow. Mrs. Finley assured us the shards on your floor will be cleaned up before the students arrive. He jotted something down in a small ringed notebook.

Very well. If you don't mind, I have some things to finish in the workroom. Please let me know if there is anything else you need. Thank you for your time, officers, Sandy. She walked out calmly and with purpose down the hall, stopped, leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

* * *

The class was wired for Christmas. How could her lesson plans compete with the excitement of Santa? Brie decided to give in and just go with it. Writing was to be about what they wanted for Christmas. Math included the use of geometrical shapes to create Christmas trees.

She grinned as Sean raised his hand to read his story made up of a full page of misspelled words. She remembered the first few weeks of school. The boy had been insecure and barely able to write his name. He had been afraid to try, afraid to speak. Now, he was confident and writing extensive, coherent stories. She laughed out loud as he explained that he drew a new snowmobile, since that was what he asked Santa to give him for Christmas. She wondered if his mother knew. She decided if this boy got a snowmobile before she did, there was something very wrong with the world.

Suddenly, she felt better and remembered why she loved this job.

* * *

The intense morning meeting with the Department of Children and Family Services had left her tapped before her class even arrived. Brie started putting up chairs for the custodian and shook her head in disgust as she thought about young Aaron Babb. His explosive father would have a lot to answer for. He would be furious, but she didn't care. She did her part to end the cycle of bruises Aaron had likely put up with since birth.

The rest of the day flew by teaching twenty-five first-grade students, then a meeting with the assistant superintendent. She was spent and ready for a breather. After putting the final touches on her report cards, she loaded her bag down before heading to turn out the fluorescent lights. As she walked to the door, she glanced back at the plywood covering her windows. Her shoulders jerked as she felt a chill.

She flicked the lights, just when her sister stormed around the corner. All right, spill. Liz was as direct as she was selfless. Why do I work in the same building as my baby sister and am only now hearing your windows were shot out again? Liz set her hands on her hips as she blocked her way while peering over Brie's shoulder at the plywood.

She could make excuses by taking Liz step-by-step through her hell of a day, but instead she let out a sigh and simply answered. "Sorry, I was just coming to find you, and they were not shot out. It was mostly rocks, she lied. After several questions from the kids, they moved on to obsess about Christmas. Are we still on for tonight?" She changed the subject, walked around her sister and headed toward the school office for her last stop on her way out.

Liz adjusted her heavy bag and took up stride with Brie's longer legs. Of course we're on. It's tradition. I heard it was another rifle. And my students are too old to admit they're obsessed with Christmas.

I need to take a shower, then meet with Mrs. Melbourne before we go. Is eight too late? Will you owe Tim for having to put the kids to bed?

Tim knows the drill. Detox time at Mikey's the last day of school before any break. Liz draped her free arm around Brie's shoulder. And he knows his payment will be well worth it, she said with a sexy grin. Are you sure you're okay?

I am, thanks. I'll meet you there. I think I'll get a cab tonight.

I'll pick up you at eight and have Tim drop us off; we'll share a cab home, Liz said.

Brie pulled open the door to the front office to let the secretary know she was leaving. Mrs. Seward was as big around as she was tall, and as scary as they came. She was also conscientious and made sure to keep everyone on their toes. Her walls were wallpapered with neatly displayed schedules and calendars.

Theme tests are due before you leave, Miss Chapman, Mrs. Brownley.

Brie pulled out a small tin of cookies with a bow. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Seward.

Thank you, Miss Chapman. Theme tests are still due before you leave, she said as she stapled a phone message to a note card.

She smiled at her favorite secretary. You're welcome, and I turned them in yesterday.

Liz flipped through the papers she had pulled from her office mail slot as she followed. She grinned and glanced up. Don't look at me. I turned mine in last week.

You're getting a new student when we return from break, Miss Chapman, and Dr. Tyman wants you to call her. Something she forgot to mention in your meeting this afternoon. Mrs. Seward turned to peck furiously at her document.

Liz's eyebrows went up at the mention of the assistant super.

Blowing the hair from her face, Brie stopped and turned back to Mrs. Seward. What is the spelling of their first name? Do they ride a bus or a car, and did you tell Dr. Tyman I would call her back today?

Sylvester, spelled the regular way. Bus fifty-one, and I told her you were already gone for break. Winking, Mrs. Seward dipped the few files left on her desk neatly into drawers. Enjoy your break, Brianna.

* * *

Four wide eyes looked out of a shiny black truck as they turned onto the gravel drive of their new home. The snow had to be a plus, Nathan decided. His nephews had played in snow when they visited their grandparents up here, but they'd never had it in their own backyard. He could tell Duncan, the older of the two, was wondering if people could actually live in the place. He'd tried telling them it would be an adventure. He said the three of them would be like pioneers.

Snow crunched under his tires as the truck pulled to a stop. He looked over at the boys' cautious expressions. Come on, men. We'll get her put together in no time. We're bachelors now. He laid a reassuring hand on Duncan's shoulder.

Do you think Goldie will like it here? Duncan asked.

He figured his nephew wasn't really asking about the bouncing yellow Lab in the backseat, although taking care of Goldie and his little brother were first priorities for Duncan, even if he was only eight. He thought about how much Duncan looked like his dad with his deep brown, wavy hair and serious sable brown eyes. Duncan's soft nose and chin were the only features he had inherited from his mother.

I think he already does. What do you think, Andy? He glanced over at his younger nephew.

Goldie, not quite two yet, yelped and jumped in the backseat. With his tongue hanging to one side, he pressed his wet nose against the window.

'Course he'll like it. Look at the creek and the lake, Andy defended. He can fish and chase birds.

Andy not only inherited his mother's looks, but her personality. Optimist. Adventurist. Like his brother, he had his father's wavy brown hair. But his eyes were light brown, soft and full of wonder.

The extended cab, eight-foot-bed pickup was packed full. Bungee cords tied down mattresses, sleeping bags, suitcases, a card table with chairs and a cooler of food along with a handful of puzzles, Legos and Duncan's drawing supplies. It was enough to get them through until the first moving van came with more. The rest would be retrieved from storage as the house became ready.

The boys climbed out and stretched from the last hours of driving like they'd just woken from a long nap. Nathan grabbed Andy, tossing him effortlessly onto his shoulders. With Andy's hands wrapped under his chin and his feet tucked around the sides of his back, he couldn't resist pulling out the new notebook he had ready in his back pocket and the pencil from behind his ear.

He opened it to the first page and jotted down notes about the shutters. They would need to be discarded and completely rebuilt. The porch was littered with rotting boards that needed to be replaced. Some were still in good condition and just needed to be planed, stained and sealed. The railings, however, were going to be all new and all his, part of a giant wrap-around porch he envisioned. The wood siding needed to be scraped and painted. Some boards needed replacing there, too. He jotted down notes about finding a good painter and roofer. He wouldn't have time for that if he was going to finish the beauty by summer's end. The outside of the house would have to wait for better weather, he decided.

Dad, Goldie wants out. Let him out and let me down. Andy squirmed as he fumbled the notebook back into his pocket. Can we go around back?

I'll come with. Stay where I can see you. He let Andy down and took Duncan's hand. He noticed that Duncan held on a little tighter than usual.

He opened the door of the packed truck for the jumping, barking dog. Taking a giant leap, the dog tried to run before his legs hit the ground. Stumbling and rolling twice before regaining his