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Return to Virgin River (Virgin River #19)(3)

Author:Robyn Carr

She slowed to a stop and looked around for another house. But there wasn’t another house. And the number on the mailbox confirmed the bad news. Her getaway, her mountain villa. It was one big smoldering pile of ash.

“Oh shit,” she said.

She pulled over down the road, out of the way of the fire trucks. One was labeled Virgin River Volunteers and the other, bigger truck said Cal Fire. She walked up the drive and headed for that gang of men. Some were wearing yellow turnouts, those thick flame-retardant overalls. Others were in jeans and denim or plaid shirts and she assumed they were just observing.

“What happened?” she asked the first man she came to.

He was kind of grizzled looking, with a stubble of beard, thin hair up top and watery blue eyes. He scratched his chin. “Fire,” he said.

“Obviously! Was anyone hurt?”

“Nah, she’s been sitting empty since after Fourth of July. Heard someone’s gonna be renting it. But I guess that deal’s off…”

“Me,” she said. “I’m renting it. Holy God, what in the world caused it to burn up! I mean, if no one was in it…”

“I guess those Cal Fire guys will help figure that out. Wasn’t no lightning; we got clear skies. We’re just lucky the postman saw smoke and the whole damn hill didn’t take light!”

“Dear God…”

“We coulda been out here for days,” he said, giving his brow a wipe.

“The Templetons,” she said. “Has anyone called the owners?”

“The fire department will call once they get the number. You got the number? You can call ’em. It ain’t no secret. It’s just gonna be a while before anyone figures out what set it off and how bad the damage is.” He turned and looked over his shoulder at the charred mess. He shook his head. “I hope you have somewhere else to stay.”

“That’s going to be a problem,” she said. “I guess I could drive back over to the coast and look for a hotel or something. Unless there’s one around here?”

He was shaking his head. “I can give you a spot on the couch if you’re hard up,” he said.

A man in yellow turnouts walked over to where she stood. He was holding a shovel. “Did I hear you say you know the owners?”

“Yes, I’ve known them almost my whole life. I was renting the house from them and I just arrived to…to…this.”

“It’s pretty ugly in there,” he said. “It can be fixed, but it can’t be fixed fast. No way anyone’s staying there tonight. Or this month for that matter.”

“Do you have any idea what caused it?” she asked.

“I’m not an investigator, mind you. Just an old fireman. I suspect an electric blanket. It looks to me like the fire started in the bedroom. On the bed.”

“They left an electric blanket on?” she asked. “And that could start a fire?”

“It didn’t even have to be turned on,” he said. “It’s best to wait on the investigator to make a judgment, but I’ve seen it happen. I don’t think that house is for rent anymore.”

“What am I going to tell Mr. Templeton?” she thought aloud.

“You can start off by telling him there was a fire in his house, a pretty bad one, and the place isn’t a total loss but it’s uninhabitable. We’ll call someone to come out and make sure it’s locked and the windows are boarded up. Wouldn’t want anyone to go in there and get hurt. Wouldn’t want what survived to be damaged or stolen. We don’t have a lot of that sort of thing around here but…” He shrugged. “The damage is considerable.”

“I’ll say,” she replied.

“So much for your vacation,” the first man offered.

“I wasn’t here for a vacation,” Kaylee said. “I was here to work. I rented it for six months of quiet so I could finish a project. Hey, can I look around in there? So I can tell Gerald what it looks like?”

“You can’t go in there. It’s hot, steaming, could be unstable,” the firefighter said. “I’ll take you around back and shine a light in the window. You might be able to get a glimpse. The kitchen is smoke damaged but most of the fire got the upstairs. There’s no way you’re going to see that until much later.”

“Okay, let’s have a look,” she said. Then she shuddered. This was a tragedy; the Templetons treasured their mountain house. When their sons were young, they’d spent a lot of time here. Sometimes Bonnie and the boys came for nearly the whole summer with Gerald flying up from LA as often as he could get away. And now, they loved to visit with their grandchildren.

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