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of her eyes as she pulled her shoulder away. She dropped forward on her hands and knees and raised her head taking in the complete picture of Kever’s camp shack completely engulfed in a blaze. An explosion sent the small building rocking next to her.
    “Oh, God!” She rushed to her feet and started running. “Kever!” Moira screamed as she stopped in the clearing in front of the house. The roof had fallen in and flames reached high into the sky, heat and smoke hit her in waves as she inched closer. Her throat started to burn with every breath she took. She twisted around looking for Kever, and reached into her pocket. Pulling the phone out she lifted to stab in nine-one-one and realized she had no signal. She raised the cell and started trotting around the yard. Closer to the outhouse two bars appeared and she tapped the keyboard.
    “Put the phone down,” a woman spoke from behind Moira.
    The sound of a cocking gun had Moira levering her hand down and cautiously turning around. She came face to face with a short woman of stocky build and was reminded of a pit bull, not because of the lady’s appearance but because of the way she held herself. Dressed in fatigue pants and a black tank top, her mousy brown hair was tightly pulled back into a severe ponytail and she held a rifle butt down on her hip. The strange woman was toned but not overly muscular.
    Moira tapped down her panic and assumed a façade of cool indifference. “Why does everyone insist on pulling a gun on me this week?” she mumbled then added louder, “Alicia Newell, I suppose?”
    A cheeky grin spread across the woman’s face. “Live and in shooting color.” She chuckled at her joke.
    “So you’ve burned down a shack. Care to tell me where Kever is?” Moira arched a brow.
    She snorted. “I think he’s in the growing rubble somewhere smoldering.”
    Moira resisted the urge to place a hand over the knot that formed in her chest. “Why?” she murmured as the cell dropped from her grasp.
    “Huh… Oh, yeah, because you made Dustin’s life so hard. You murdered him.” Alicia lowered her weapon, maintaining a tight grip on it and moved within feet to Moira.
    “That idiot committed suicide, and I was referring to Kever.”
    “He did not! Dustin would have never taken his own life,” Alicia screamed. A red flush rose up her neck and tendons protruded from her throat as she strained her voice. “You made him leave me!” Her eyes took on a far-away look as she kept talking. “Everything I did was so that we could be together. He didn’t understand that. I knew Dustin was mine the minute we crossed paths at work. But we had obstacles we needed to overcome. He was my boss and he was married. I knew he wouldn’t cross any of those boundaries. Dustin had too much honor, so I had to create a path for him to follow. Finding new work was easy but I had to get rid of his first wife. I befriended her at the gym, so after a while handing her the Gatorade bottle laced with poison became easy. Every other wife after that was a cake walk. They were surprisingly trusting. Dustin caught on quickly that I was the only woman for him.”
    “Well, damn, guess I got that wrong.” Moira shook her head.
    “Shut up! You took Dustin, so I took your precious cop. You’re lucky I was feeling benevolent and didn’t light you both up after having to listen to all the grunts and groans the two of you made this morning.”
    “Jealous much? I guess Dustin didn’t rock your world.” Moira snorted.
    She didn’t have time to block the butt of the rifle that came toward her. Instead, Moira twisted her head and took the blow to the side of her face. She dropped down, falling on her ass with a thud . Moira raised her hand to brush her cheek and looked up at her attacker. She wiggled her jaw and leaned away to spit out the blood flooding her mouth. As she moved to bring her feet under her, she noticed her opening and swung a leg out.
    Unguarded, Alicia fell back and