Anger shot through Mason. Jayne had run here? “She was living here?”

“Off and on. She knew the rules! God damn her! Serves her right!”

Mason wanted to punch him in the face. “You run a meth lab in a suburban neighborhood and you’re pissed at someone for smoking? You’re the one who was endangering everyone. If she’s dead, you’ll be looking at murder.”

“Get the fuck away from me!” The man turned away, inhaling in his oxygen mask. His girlfriend gave Mason an evil stare, her arms wrapped around her man.

“Yeah, you, too, sweetheart. If you knew what was going on in there and didn’t report it.”

Ray appeared and pulled Mason away. “What are you doing?”

“Idiots blew up a meth lab. Sounds like Jayne might have burst in with a cigarette.”

“Jayne?” Ray halted. “She was in there?”

“I think so.” Mason stared at the burning building. A hose sprayed water through the central window on the main floor. “How am I going to tell Ava?”

Ray turned and looked back at the man with the oxygen mask on. “That’s not him, right?”

“No,” said Mason. “He doesn’t look anything like the guy on the video from this morning or like Derrick Snyder. I think this is one of the places the two of them were crashing occasionally.”

“Crap. Can you imagine living in a house with a meth lab?”

“Hell no. The places stink and attract all sorts of lowlifes.”

Ray watched the smoke. “And you’re risking your life.”

Two firefighters appeared in the front door, an unconscious woman over the shoulder of one of them. He dumped her in the grass, a good distance away from the house, as the EMTs rushed over with their equipment.

“Aw, shit,” muttered Ray, and Mason dashed across the property.

It was Jayne. Mason had known the instant he’d seen her hanging lifeless over the fireman’s shoulder. Physically, there was too much similarity between Ava and Jayne for him not to see it. He felt his hat blow off as he ran across the lawn, but he didn’t stop. Beside the kneeling EMT, he saw brown hair splayed across the wet grass. More police crowded around the woman and the movement of the EMT’s shoulders told Mason he’d started CPR.

Mason stopped at Jayne’s feet and knelt as the EMT pressed on her chest. A second EMT had a mask over her mouth and nose and was rhythmically forcing oxygen into her lungs with each squeeze of his hand on the bag. Her eyes were closed, and Mason saw Ava on the grass even though his brain told him it wasn’t her. The ash-covered face was too thin. She didn’t move.

“Aw, fuck,” whispered Ray beside him.

The EMTs kept up their task, one of them counting out loud.

Jayne’s shoulders suddenly heaved upward and one arm flew up to bat at the mask and bag over her face. The EMTs rolled her to one side, and she coughed and vomited as they carefully watched.

“Thank God,” stated Mason. He went to touch the brim of his hat and realized it was gone. He glanced at the ground behind him, not seeing the hat. Jayne retched. He walked around to her head and knelt beside her, ignoring the EMTs.

“Jayne, was anyone else in the house?” he asked.

Coughing, Jayne shook her head. “I don’t know,” she wheezed. “I’d just gotten there.”

“What about the guy who grabbed Derrick? Have you seen him or Derrick since then?”

She shook her head and pushed to a sitting position, knocking away the hands of the EMTs who tried to support her. “No one,” she croaked. She wiped at her nose and eyes as an EMT thrust a towel into her hand. She peered at Mason, recognition flashing in her eyes. A pain shot through him. Ava’s eyes.

“You’re Ava’s guy. The cop.” Her voice trailed off as she gasped and tears flooded her eyes at the pain. “My throat,” she wheezed at the EMTs.

“Don’t talk,” said one. He offered her a bottle of water.

Mason sat back, spotting the huge blistering burns on her left arm as she took the water. She didn’t seem to feel them. He glanced at one of the EMTs and saw the man focus on the burn. As she drank, he swiftly started an IV and injected something into the fluid. Within thirty seconds her eyelids drooped, and they helped her lie back down.

“She’s gonna feel those burns later,” Mason said in a low voice. The EMT nodded.

“Mason. Ray.” Zander’s voice sounded behind them.

Mason glanced back and Zander gestured for them to follow him. The three men moved away to a quieter spot.

“She say anything?” Zander asked. He handed Mason his hat.

“Says she hasn’t seen Derrick or our guy. She’s lucky to be alive,” answered Ray.

Mason studied Zander’s face. Something was up. “What do you have?”

“I just got the results of another VICAP search,” Zander said. “The ones Ava had run had come back without any matches.”

“And?” Ray asked.

“I went back two decades this time. We’d been running searches within the last five years and had specified a male victim.”

Mason held his breath.

“I got one hit. Seventeen years ago in Yamhill County. A twenty-two-year-old woman was found murdered. Her wrists were slit, she was gagged, and most of her hair had been cut off. She’d also been doused with gasoline and burned. The cause of death wasn’t from the wrists; it was from strangulation.”