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anything we could’ve done different. I’ll go through this when it’s cooled and we’ll see. I think if it had been a normal fire, we could’ve saved the house.”
    â€œI’ll get you a report from the Loflins about how they think it happened.”
    â€œWhat has the thief used to start the previous fires?”
    â€œNothing chemical like gasoline, at least not so far,” John said. “It’s more like whatever he can find on hand. Newspaper, wood. You name it.”
    â€œWell he stepped up his game on this one, if he’s responsible. No newspaper or piece of wood started this, unless the Loflins were storing something they shouldn’t have in the house.”
    â€œI’m glad you can fill in as an arson investigator too. We used to have to wait months to get someone here from the state. I suppose we’ll go back to that when you’re gone.”
    â€œJust don’t ask me to go to court,” she half joked. “I’m not really certified to do arson investigation. I know a lot about it. That’s not the same thing.”
    He smiled and wiped a smudge of soot from her cheek with a gentle hand. “Better than no one doing it.”
    Stella turned away, refusing to get caught up in her softer feelings for John. He had a tendency to look at her in a way that made her heart melt. A moment later, he’d be blasting her for being part of the Carson family. She couldn’t trust him.
    â€œLooks like we’ve got company,” she said. “Don’s here.”
    A second police vehicle—a white Cherokee like the red one that belonged to the fire brigade—pulled up to the curb. Police Chief Don Rogers stepped out, hitched up his pants, and began looking around at the fire scene.
    â€œI should’ve called him sooner.” John left her and went to join his boss.
    â€œGet some crime-scene tape and cordon off the area,” Stella told Banyin. “We don’t want anyone stumbling around here and getting hurt.”
    The pumper crew was packed up and ready to go. She released them to return to the firehouse. She’d do the same with the engine crew once they’d finished going through the debris and ashes of the house. It looked as though they’d done everything they could. It was time to go back home, clean up, and talk about what had happened.
    â€œMs. Griffin.” Don nodded as he reached her. John was by his side.
    He was a fifty-something man with a graying blond crew cut. His pale blue eyes never seemed to smile.
    He was about the same height as Stella. Because she was wearing boots, she was an inch or so taller. She enjoyed looking down on him, knowing it irritated him. “Chief Rogers.”
    â€œKind of a mess, isn’t it?” His shrewd eyes surveyed the chaotic scene around them. “Guess your people didn’t get here in time. How long have they been training?”
    â€œThe house was already fully involved before the fire brigade arrived,” John answered before Stella could. “There was nothing they could do to save the house. They managed to keep it under control so the fire didn’t spread to the neighboring homes.”
    Don didn’t look pleased to hear John’s response. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping spectators out of harm’s way?” he asked his lead officer. “I don’t think I need you up here, Trump.”
    Stella hid her smile. No doubt Don didn’t like John taking her side, as he disliked any reference to the fire brigade doing a good job.
    John’s chin came up. “Yes, sir.”
    As John walked away, Don said, “Divided loyalties, Ms. Griffin. It never works. Always a bad thing for both groups.”
    â€œIf you say so. I can’t see why anyone on the police department ,who also works with the fire brigade, would be considered to have divided loyalties since we both try to keep the community