“Really?” I would need to pursue several topics Angie had brought up, such as why she believed me to be an undercover investigator and what she meant by “bad luck,” but before I could ask, she started for the door.

“Thanks. There are ten in the class, so this should be enough for everyone.” She took one last look around the trashed room. “Let’s find the group and head out. At least this day won’t be a complete waste.”

*  *  *

Bram arrived in Targhee Falls, where Sam met him outside the store. “Thanks for the horse and wagon, Sam. Do you want me to unhitch him?”

“Nah. I got it. The sheriff left word for you to call her when you got here.”

It must be important or the sheriff would have waited for him to call on the radio or when he got into cell-service range. Bram headed toward the store but paused at the parking lot. All the Mule Shoe guests had parked in the lot. On impulse, he jotted down the license plates. His interest in Darby was pushing him into borderline-unprofessional behavior. Even when he’d tried to track down his family history, he’d been scrupulous not to use confidential documents.

On entering the store, he spotted Julia flirting with Liam, the deliveryman. She noticed him and sashayed over. “Hello, Bram.”

He nodded at her. “I need to use the phone.”

She frowned, pointed to the office, then stalked over to Liam and draped one arm around his shoulder. Her gaze shot to him to see if he was paying attention.

If jealousy was what she intended, she was wasting her time. Liam was a far easier target for her amorous advances than he was. She was hardly in Bram’s pool of potentials for marriage bliss. She’d been married three times already. Or was it four?

Liam’s eyes opened wide, then he grinned and put his hand on her waist.

If Liam was looking for a girlfriend, Bram wasn’t about to get in the way. Liam’s mother was Bram’s boss, the sheriff.

He sat behind Sam’s desk and dialed. “You wanted me to call.”

“Yes. I didn’t want this to be overheard on the radio.”

“I got the message from the fire marshal—”

“Oh? Why did he call you?”

“He couldn’t get hold of you. He asked me to secure the barn and he’ll go ahead and do the investigation.”

“He should have waited to get my go-ahead. We have protocols—”

“I think the insurance company asked him. Anyway, I’ll run over—”

“I need you to do a welfare check.” She gave him the address.

“Not a problem. I’ll go right after I secure the barn. Did a note arrive?” The arsonist had written taunting notes to the sheriff after each fire, a fact the department had withheld from the public.