“Does the home smell like smoke?”

“Everything smells like smoke,” she told him.

“We’ll get a professional cleaner in to do a number on the air vents.”

Parker led him around to the pool, or the black pond that once was a swimming pool.

“I don’t think we’re going to get away with not draining it,” she told him. Summer water rates wouldn’t make it cheap to fill back up.

He motioned toward the guesthouse. “Any damage there?”

Parker shook her head. “The crew that was here the day of the fire returned and told me that the roof had caught on fire, and once they saw the flags waving they pointed their hoses at it. They thought it was an outbuilding and weren’t supposed to make it a priority, but the flags made them think twice.”

“That’s a blessing,” Andrew told her.

“Yeah. I’m going to need to rent it out after all this is said and done,” she said.

Andrew tucked his pen away in his shirt pocket and smiled. “You’re going to be covered, Miss Sinclair. Your policy has a cap on outside structures and landscape, but I think you’re going to be okay. I’m going to spend some time taking measurements and pictures for the next couple of hours.”

It was in the triple digits and walking around in ash didn’t sound like a good time to her.

“Thank you,” she told him.

He smiled. “No problem.”

Parker looked up at the hillside and found her smile fading. “What can the insurance company do about keeping that hillside from sliding onto my yard?” Because after fire . . . floods happened. All California needed to do was add rain.

“Nothing,” he said, deadpan.

“What about those concrete barriers you see lining the freeway?” The name for them escaped her.

“K-rails?”

“Right, those. Or that green spray stuff to get vegetation to grow and hold the soil down? Anything?”

“Preventative isn’t covered.”

Parker’s heart started pounding. “That’s stupid. All this is going to be a bigger issue once it starts to rain,” she told him.

He paused, looked her straight in the eye. “Then you call me back. Everything that happens because of the fire is going to be covered too.”

“Are you sure?”

He reached into his pocket and handed her a business card. “I’m sure.”

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked him.

“What?”

“Before you leave, can you tell me if the coverage I have for the house is enough? My parents set up the policy and I never really looked at it.” She huffed out one side of her lips. “Not that I would know what I was looking at. But I want to know that if everything had burnt to the ground, would we really have enough insurance to rebuild.”

Andrew smiled, nodded. “Of course. I’ll look at your policy and the going rate to build in the area and let you know.”

She reached out, shook his hand. “Thank you.”

Parker paused and peered at the looming mountainside.

Her smile fell. A shiver crawled up her spine.

“You’re going to be okay,” Andrew told her.

She couldn’t find the assurance he was offering.

CHAPTER THREE

Colin stood on the peak of the charred remains of what was technically the Angeles National Forest, but in reality was someone’s backyard. Several someones.

Grace stood beside him, her hand sheltered the glare of the sun as she studied the landscape before them.

“What do you think?” he asked his younger sister.

“It sucks.”

“Beyond that?”

“I think you’re going to be stupid busy and I’m going to be happy I work in city development and not in mopping up this crap.”

Colin smiled, despite the dread he felt. His sister was an engineer with the City of Santa Clarita and he recently acquired the supervisor position for the LA County Public Works Department.

He rolled out a map and spread it over the hood of his county issue truck. “There are two places the majority of the water sheds off the hills.” He pointed at the largest one. “The wash here is wide enough to take it. There are a couple places that will likely cut off access for a few homes.”

“What about damage?”

“Backyards, landscape, erosion. But there isn’t anything we can do to slow it down in this path.” He pointed to Creek Canyon. “That one is the trouble spot.”

Grace pointed at the red on the map. “Burn area?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

She blew out a breath. “How narrow is this canyon?”

“I haven’t been on-site yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’s private property.”

She pointed at the green line. “This is the forest, isn’t it?”

He pointed to a property on the map. “Forest that butts up to someone’s home.”

“Looks like you have some room to work with.”

He shook his head. “Not enough.”

At five foot three, his sister was a tiny powerhouse of piss and vinegar when cornered, yet incredibly kind and optimistic at the same time. “What are the chances of the forestry department working with you?”

“When has that ever worked?”

“Maybe when Noah built the ark.”

They both snickered.

“You have your work cut out for you, brother. I don’t envy you.”

Colin glanced up at the ash blowing off the hills. “I just hope the homeowner cooperates.” He needed the project to go smoothly. His mentor had retired the year before and recommended Colin to take his place. At thirty-three, he was the youngest head supervisor in the department, and the man he reported to made sure Colin knew he didn’t think he was experienced enough to do the job. Even though his probationary time in the position had passed, Ed made sure Colin knew who the head boss was.

“If they don’t, the homes downstream won’t stand a chance.”

Yeah, he knew that.

“Maybe we’ll have another dry winter.”

“We can hope,” he said, even though Southern California really needed the rain.

Creek Canyon didn’t need any.

“This is stupid,” Austin whined and dragged a hand through his pillow-brushed hair.

“Which part?” Parker reached into the pool with the vacuum hose and attached it to the suction.

“The part where I’m out here before nine o’clock in the morning doing this.”

The this he was referring to was their normal Saturday routine. Except since the fire, once a week turned into every other day. Parker scowled at the two inches of soot that sat at the bottom of the pool. Once the insurance money came in, she had drained the pool and acid-washed the damage. A month later, the Santa Ana winds made it look like they hadn’t touched it.

“Would you rather come out here when it’s a hundred degrees of stupid later on?”

Her brother nodded and offered a hopeful smile. “I would.”

She nudged the skimmer his way. “No, you won’t.”

“Hire a pool man.”

“Once you’re both back in school,” she said. “Until then, we’re the pool man.”