Flashover by Dana Mentink

to her mother’s block, a strip of tiny, well-kept houses set among massive conifers that seemed to dwarf the whole neighborhood. Many times she’d urged her mother to cut down the branched monster that towered above her roofline with no result.
    â€œAt least cut it back, then.” She’d seen too many fires jump from canopy to canopy, fueled by hot conditions and Oregon’s unpredictable winds.
    â€œIvy, honey, that can’t be done. It’s Papa’s tree, remember? He used to love to sit and read in the shade or push you girls on the swing. Roddy made a fort up there. I’m not going to touch that tree, and neither is anyone else.” Then her mother would smile and politely ignore any further recommendations.
    Ivy was so lost in her memories, she stumbled over an uneven spot in the pavement. Recovering her balance, she glanced into the heavily wooded acreage behind the road. Something caught her eye—a flash, a brief glint from the deepest clump of green.
    It was almost like…Ivy shook her head to clear it. No way—it couldn’t be. Why would someone be out there with a pair of binoculars aimed in her direction? Still, the quick flash bothered her enough that she increased her pace until she was breathless when she arrived at her mother’s house.
    Juana Beria met her daughter at the door, her round face wreathed in a smile, black hair pulled back in the ever-present knot on the back of her head. Ivy had seen her mother’s hair down only twice, once when she was deathly sick with the flu and the other the night of her sister’s accident. Even the morning Ivy’s dad passed away, her mother met her at the hospital with hair firmly secured.
    Squeezed in her mother’s well-padded hug, Ivy inhaled the scent of garlic and roasted potatoes from the kitchen behind them. Conversation floated out from the sitting room.
    â€œWho’s here, Mama?”
    Her mother batted innocent eyelashes. “Just your brother and Mitch.”
    Ivy heard a familiar deep laugh. “And?”
    â€œAnd Tim. I haven’t seen him in ages. I’ve got to go check the pie.” She padded off, ever the matchmaker.
    Ivy couldn’t help but smile. When would Mama understand that Tim was just a good friend? Antonio was more her type—charismatic, brash and, most of all, a firefighter. She reminded herself of the sting when she’d shared her feelings with Antonio about their future and he’d run, not walked, to get away from her ideas about commitment. After that kind of humiliation, she didn’t want to love anybody.
    Still, the sight of Tim’s tousled hair and warm grin infused her with happiness.
    He hugged her gently, his cheek leaving a warm impression on hers. “How’s the shoulder?”
    â€œRotten. The doctor says I can’t even start physical therapy until she gives me the thumbs-up. Who knows when that will be?”
    â€œOh, that’s too bad,” Roddy said from his spot by the window. “You’re stuck down here with the mere mortals until you rise again as überhero.”
    â€œFunny, brother. I just want my shoulder to mend so I can beat you at basketball again.”
    Mitch grinned as he reached for a chip loaded with salsa. “You did a pretty good job breaking it. Can’t expect it to mend overnight.”
    Ivy was glad to see Mitch’s cheerful demeanor. It reminded her that she hadn’t fully interrogated Tim about her cousin’s strange behavior. “I know, I know, patience and all that. What’s the word on the investigation?”
    Mitch chewed for a moment. “Why do you ask me? I’m just a flight nurse, not a hose jockey.”
    She put a hand on her hip and continued to stare.
    â€œYou’d better tell her if you know anything,” Roddy said. “I’ve seen that look before.”
    He sighed. “I haven’t heard anything other than the police are