Judgment Fire by Marilyn Meredith
Judgment Fire as the title suggests, has fire in it as do several other of the Deputy Tempe Crabtree mysteries. But for me, what I think the biggest attraction for this tale is that Tempe finally realizes why she was so reluctant to embrace her Native American background.
Chapter 1
The massive rock barrier of the southern Sierra and its
jagged snow-covered pinnacles never failed to inspire Tempe .
Normally, the pine, aspen and
cedar forest bordering the winding highway calmed and reassured her--until this
afternoon.
A face popped into her mind. Someone she hadn't seen or thought of for
quite awhile, which added to the apprehension she couldn't shake. Deputy Tempe
Crabtree attributed her uneasiness to the fact that her assigned beat, the tiny
community of Bear Creek and the surrounding area, would soon be swollen with
Memorial Day weekend tourists.
Fishermen, swimmers, and water skiers would swarm the banks of Lake Dennison ,
and visitors in all sorts of vehicles would soon clog the two-lane road to the
high country and its many camping sites. Her work load would increase a
hundred-fold.
She made a quick pass through Bear Creek and continued
upward into the mountains. Her vehicle, a white Blazer with SHERIFF printed in
large black letters above the gold county seal on both doors, made her highly
visible.
The route followed
the river's course and she caught glimpses of it from time to time. Most of the
homes and ranches were hidden from view by the thick tangle of wild berry
bushes, manzanita, and shadowed woodlands.
Maneuvering the Blazer around a sharp curve, she drew in
a quick breath and braked. Fire engulfed the front end of a green mini-van,
outlining a person in the front seat. The vehicle was stopped at the side of
the road, flames licking at the bordering brush.
The driver, a Native American woman in her fifties, faced
straight ahead, long fingers gripping the steering wheel. It was Doretha
Nightwalker, her silver hair brushed tightly back into a bun. Though Doretha's
eyes were open, she didn't seem aware of what was happening.
The windshield and dashboard were melting. Doretha would
die if Tempe
didn't get her out immediately.
Darting around the van, Tempe leaped the burning brush and reached
for the passenger door. After a short struggle, the door opened. "Doretha!
You've got to get out now."
The woman didn't react. Tempe scrambled into the front seat. Smoke
burned her eyes and the intense heat made breathing difficult.
One of the van's tires exploded as Tempe dragged Doretha to her Blazer. Opening
the passenger door, she hoisted the woman onto the floor of the Blazer. Doretha
stared vacantly.
"Doretha, are you hurt?" Tempe spoke loudly, trying to get through to
the woman. Another van tire burst. A siren whined in the distance.
Grasping her wrist, Tempe
felt Doretha's pulse. Rapid and strong. No cuts or bruises were on her face.
Examining her quickly, Tempe
found no obvious broken bones. Of course internal injuries were possible.
The siren grew louder. "We'll have help soon,
Doretha."
Doretha still didn't respond.
Long, slender fingers grabbed Tempe 's arm. "No, no
ambulance. I'm not
hurt." Doretha's voice was deep and raspy.
"You should be checked out by a doctor," Tempe said.
"There's no need."
Facing Doretha, Tempe
asked, "What happened? Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. My mind was off somewhere. To tell you the truth, I was thinking about
you. All of sudden the car was on fire...I pulled off the road. I don't
remember anything after that."
Amazing. "That's strange because you're face popped
into my mind just before I turned the corner and discovered your van on
fire."
Doretha nodded. "Yes, I thought it was something
like that."
Before Tempe
could ask what she meant, the fire engine rounded the bend and came to a halt.
Captain Roundtree and two volunteers in black-and-yellow turnout gear and
helmets leaped out, carrying fire extinguishers and hoses. "I don't think
they'll be able to save much," Tempe
said.
"No, I realize that. A small sacrifice."
"You do have insurance, don’t you?"
"Oh, yes. My van will be replaced. But I'm relieved
to know that this didn't happen because I was out of harmony. That's when most
misfortunes occur."
Doretha, a shaman, viewed the world in a unique manner. Tempe first met her while
investigating the disappearance and murder of a small child. Doretha was one of
several Native Americans who had recently helped Tempe learn more about her own Yanduchi
heritage.
Her curiosity piqued, Tempe asked, "Why do you suppose I had
you on my mind just before I came upon you? Something psychic?"
Doretha chuckled. "That's one way of putting it I
suppose. However, I think there's a
simpler explanation. Our paths were intended to cross."
Why? Did Doretha have a specific reason why they were
supposed to see each other? Did the shaman have a problem she needed Tempe 's help with? Or was
it Tempe who
needed Doretha?
Hope this tantalized you enough to read the rest.
Marilyn
Available as a trade paperback or for Kindle
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