Breathe Your Last: An addictive and nail-biting crime thriller (Detective Josie Quinn Book 10)

by Lisa Regan

  Naomi’s fingers dug into the flesh of the backs of her hands. “No. She made that very clear to me. That was my first question as well.”

  “Why was she so upset?” Josie asked.

  “You have to understand, Detectives, my sister was the ultimate rule-follower. Dedicated, disciplined, ambitious. The first time she ever had a sip of beer, she thought the entire world was going to end. She was upset because the fling she was having—or whatever you want to call it—was with someone much older than her. I am pretty sure it was a professor.”

  Which would explain Christine Trostle’s characterization of Nysa’s secretive and unusual behavior, Josie thought.

  “So it wasn’t Hudson Tinning,” Josie said.

  Naomi rolled her eyes. “Mommy’s boy, Hudson? No. She liked him, a lot, actually, but it definitely wasn’t him. Like I said, the person she was seeing was older than her.”

  “She didn’t tell you who it was?” Gretchen asked.

  “She said she didn’t want anyone to know. She was going to end it and that would be that, and he would never get in trouble for it and neither would she.”

  “But she didn’t end it,” Josie said.

  “No, she did,” Naomi said. “I talked to her on Friday afternoon. She said she’d broken things off. She felt better, was even going to party over the weekend. Well, party as much as Nysa could party, so that probably meant going to a party and having a half a cup of beer.”

  Gretchen said, “Did she ever confirm that it was a professor?”

  “She never said that outright,” said Naomi. “I just assumed it was because she was so freaked out.”

  “What did she actually say?” Josie asked.

  Naomi unlaced her fingers and rubbed her palms together. “She said he was a lot older than her and that it was inappropriate.”

  Josie’s cell phone rang. A glance at the screen showed the face and phone number of Mrs. Quinn, her late husband’s mother and Harris’s grandmother. “I have to take this,” she said. Gretchen gave her a nod, indicating that she’d finish the interview with Naomi while Josie stepped away from the table.

  Josie walked out into the lobby and swiped answer. “Cindy, is everything okay?”

  “I’m at Tiny Tykes,” Cindy Quinn answered. “I had to pick up Harris because Misty picked up another shift. Pre-K is expensive, you know.”

  In fact, Josie did know. She’d helped Misty pay for it. “Is Harris okay?”

  “Oh yeah, he’s fine, but they won’t let me take him. Something about an approved list. I’m not on it. I know Misty put me on it, but this woman swears up and down that she didn’t.”

  “Misty must have forgotten,” Josie said. “Have they tried calling her?”

  Annoyance edged Cindy’s words. “They can’t do that, apparently. I have no idea why but they’re refusing. They’ll only release him to Misty or to you. Misty’s working in the call center, and I can’t get through to her, although even if I could, she’d tell them the same damn thing I’ve been telling them, which is that she put me on the list when she enrolled Harris. I’ve been arguing with this woman here for fifteen minutes. Josie, she’s like a power-drunk tyrant. She won’t let me take my own grandson!”

  Josie sighed. “Unfortunately, Cindy, that’s a standard policy at these kinds of facilities. It’s meant to protect children.”

  “From what? Their own damn families? Josie, I’ve just about had it with this lady here. I’m telling you this is a clerical error on their part.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Josie said quickly. “But regardless, we have to address it. We just have to get you back on the list, is all. I can help.” The last thing Misty needed was for Cindy to cause a scene at Tiny Tykes. “I can be there in ten minutes. I’ll ask if they’ll let me put you on the list for future pickups.”

  “Well, hurry,” Cindy said. “I can’t be held responsible for what I say to this awful woman in the meantime.”

  Josie hit end call and blew out a breath. She looked up to see Gretchen walking toward her. “I’m sorry. I have to run up to Harris’s school.”

  “It’s fine,” Gretchen said. “Naomi told me that her whole family is on the same cell phone plan. I’m going to have Mett email the concierge some consent forms. They’ll print them here at the desk and then one of Nysa’s parents can sign them. This way we don’t have to wait for a warrant to see where her phone pinged on Sunday into Monday. I’ll get the coordinates and then cross-reference those with the home addresses of her past and present professors. If any of their addresses fall into the area where she was during the time she was unaccounted for, then we’ll go have a talk with them.”

  “Great idea,” Josie said. She started to walk out the sliding glass doors but stopped and turned. “Gretchen, put the head coach on that list, would you?”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Twenty-One

  At Tiny Tykes, only two cars remained in the parking lot. In one of them sat Cindy Quinn, window rolled down, her sharp features set in an expression of anger. Josie parked beside her and got out, walking up to the window. Cindy said, “I’m not going back in there.”

  Josie suppressed a sigh. “I’ll get him and see that you’re put on the list.”

  Inside, only Mrs. D remained, sitting at the desk that Miss K normally commanded with Harris in a chair next to it, his large backpack on his back. His legs swung back and forth, not reaching the hardwood floor. When he saw Josie, he jumped up and ran toward her. She caught him expertly and scooped him up, hugging him to her, bulky backpack and all.

  “Miss K wouldn’t let me go with Grandma,” he told her immediately, a frown on his face.

  Josie laughed. “I know that. It’s okay. Remember how we talked about this place having special rules to keep you safe? Just like your mom and I have special rules to keep you safe?”

  “I guess,” he mumbled.

  Josie set him down and took his hand, walking toward Mrs. D. “You can only leave here with adults that your mom and I say are okay. We forgot to put Grandma on the list. It was a mistake. But I’m going to tell Mrs. D to put her on and everything will be fine. Got it?”

  This seemed to cheer him up. He rocked up on his toes. “Got it!”

  Mrs. D stood and shook her head. “I’m very sorry about all this. I thought Miss K explained this to Harris’s mom during registration. We can’t allow anyone to take custody of a child unless they’re approved in our system by the child’s parents or guardians. We don’t know what kinds of custody disputes people have. Terrible things have been known to happen. I can’t put my kids at risk that way.”

  “It’s fine,” Josie said. “I’m not upset, and I’m sure Misty won’t be either. But may I add Mrs. Quinn to the pickup list?”

  Mrs. D smiled. “Sure. Of course. Let me get Harris’s file.”

  She disappeared into her office and returned with a thin folder.

  “You still have physical files?” Josie asked.

  “Only for our original enrollment paperwork. Most things are in the computer system, but we keep originals of certain forms.”

  Josie smiled as Mrs. D opened the file, turned a few pages, and slid it across to Josie. She pointed to a form that had several boxes for parents and guardians to list authorized people for school pickup. “Just fill out the one on the bottom of that page,” Mrs. D said.

  Josie was still looking at the top of the form where Misty had filled in the parental information. She had told Misty to put her on as one of the emergency contacts, but Misty had listed her as a guardian. It had no legal standing, of course, but it was obvious that the Tiny Tykes staff were not questioning it since they would allow Josie to put Cindy Quinn on the pickup list.

  Mrs. D pointed again to the box at the bottom of the page. “This one.”

  Josie went to add Cindy’s name, address, and phone number when the box above it caught her eye. “Mrs. Quinn is already listed here.”

  “What?”

  Josie tapped her p
en against the box that Misty had already filled out, just as Cindy had said, listing her as an authorized person for picking Harris up from school. Mrs. D turned the folder toward her and leaned down, studying it. “Oh dear,” she said. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. This isn’t in the computer. It’s supposed to be entered. I guess Miss K didn’t check the physical file. Things are so hectic here at the end of the day. I’ve told her not to leave her post, so maybe that’s why she didn’t go into the office for the file.”

  Josie put the pen back on the table and gave her a tight smile. “I hope this means there won’t be any problems in the future with Mrs. Quinn picking up Harris?”

  “Not at all, I promise,” Mrs. D assured her. “I’ll talk with Miss K about it in the morning to make sure there are no issues going forward.”

  “Great,” Josie said. She turned to Harris and held out a hand. “Let’s go.”

  In the parking lot, Harris wasted no time entertaining his grandmother with tales of Pre-K. He hardly noticed when Josie kissed the top of his head and told him she’d see him soon. Josie explained the error to Cindy, who was satisfied to be proven correct. Josie watched her drive away and then got into her own vehicle, checking the dashboard clock, thinking about how she hadn’t seen Noah all day. It was extremely odd. Longing to hear his voice, she called him, and was relieved when he answered right away.

  “Where have you been all day?” she blurted out.

  “The Chief has me doing something,” he answered vaguely.

  She couldn’t help the annoyance that edged into her tone. “Really? Like what? Because we briefed him this morning on the Somers case, and he didn’t say anything about more pressing assignments.”

  “It’s not a big deal, Josie,” Noah said. “I’ll tell you about it tonight.”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I’m headed back to the station now.”

  “Yeah, I probably won’t see you till later tonight. At home.” As if he could sense her disappointment through the phone line, he added, “I’ll get takeout. Your favorite.”

  Accepting his peace offering, she said, “Okay. I’ll see you then,” and hung up.

  She was halfway down the mountain road leading back into the city proper when she smelled smoke. Slowing her vehicle, she searched the trees on either side of the road and looked to the sky to see if there were any signs of fire. Out here, people did sometimes burn their trash in metal barrels or fire rings made from old tire rims. They weren’t supposed to do it within the city limits, but it happened. Josie didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and wasn’t looking to give out any citations, so she sped back up. Moments later, she rounded a bend in the road and saw a large black mailbox beside a tree-lined driveway. Josie couldn’t see where it led due to the thick foliage. Beside the mailbox was a girl with long, dark hair. She was tall and reed thin but as Josie drew closer, she realized that she was probably only ten or eleven. She wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with an anime character on it. Both arms waved wildly over her head. As Josie pulled over, her movements became more frantic. Her feet lifted from the ground, as she jumped in place, then ran over to Josie’s vehicle.

  “Help!” the girl said. “I need help. My grandpa’s house is on fire. Him and my sister are still in there.”

  “Where?” Josie said.

  The girl turned and pointed to the driveway. “Up there. Can you help?”

  “Get in,” Josie told her.

  The girl climbed into the passenger’s seat and the moment the door slammed shut, Josie gunned it, her Ford Escape lurching forward and roaring up the long, winding driveway.

  “What’s your name?” she asked the girl.

  “Dorothy.” The girl looked shell-shocked but not dirty or streaked with soot or grime.

  “Dorothy, do you know your grandpa’s address? So I can tell the fire trucks?”

  The girl rattled it off and Josie used the voice commands in her car to call 911 and alert them to what was going on. The smell of smoke grew stronger. As they crested the hill, Josie’s heart caught in her throat. A two-story house stood in the center of a clearing, one side of it fully engulfed in flames. Stone steps led to what Josie assumed used to be a front porch but now looked like a melted candle. Flames shot out of the windows above it. Thick black smoke rose into the sky. From the other side of the house, flames burst from the first-floor windows but not the second floor.

  Yet.

  Josie knew several firefighters from the city’s department. The words of one of those firefighters echoed in her head: a fire doubles in size every thirty seconds.

  If there were people still in the house, Josie couldn’t wait for the trucks. The entire structure would be gone in minutes. She pulled up as close to the house as she dared, threw the SUV into park, and turned to Dorothy. “Where are they inside? Do you know? First floor? Second floor? Front? Back?”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. She pointed to the wall of flames that used to be the front porch. “My grandpa was in the front room.”

  “What’s your sister’s name?” Josie asked.

  “Bronwyn. She’s five.”

  A band of fear tightened around Josie’s chest.

  “I thought she was behind me. I told her to follow me.”

  “It’s okay,” Josie said. “Who else was in the house besides your grandfather and Bronwyn?”

  “No one.”

  “Okay. Stay here.”

  She jumped out of the vehicle and ran toward the house, circling it to see if she could find a way inside. The first-floor windows were elevated far too high for her to climb into without a ladder. Rounding the back of the house, she heard a shout. She looked behind her, expecting Dorothy, but there was nothing. The shout came again. Josie looked up. From one of the second-floor windows, a girl’s face, framed by golden-brown hair, poked out. A small hand waved.

  “Help!” she hollered.

  “Shit,” Josie muttered. She couldn’t reach the first-floor windows, let alone the second-floor windows. The house was almost fully engulfed. Even if she could find a way inside, there was no telling whether or not she’d be able to get to the second floor. For all she knew, the stairs had already burned away. She took a second to gauge the distance from the ground to the window.

  “Wait there!” she yelled to Bronwyn. “I’ll be right back.”

  She sprinted back to her vehicle and yanked open the passenger side door. “Get out,” she told Dorothy. “And go to the end of the driveway to signal the fire trucks just like you signaled me, okay?”

  Dorothy jumped out. Tears streaked her face, but she nodded. “Did you find my sister?”

  “Yes,” Josie said. “There’s not much time. I need you to go now.”

  Dorothy took off at a run. Josie scrambled to the other side of her vehicle and hopped into the driver’s side. Engine roaring, she punched the gas pedal and sped across the grass, around to the back of the house, plowing right through a plastic playhouse and coming to a stop beside the house—so close that she heard the house’s siding scrape her passenger’s side paint job. The heat of the fire pulsed, consuming every last molecule of air around her. She got out and went to the hood of her Ford Escape, climbing on top of it and running up her windshield onto her roof. The metal roof sagged under her weight but from this height, she was much closer to Bronwyn.

  Josie held up both arms and yelled. “I need you to jump, Bronwyn.”

  The girl leaned out the window and looked down at Josie, her expression uncertain.

  “I’ll catch you,” Josie promised. “But you have to jump now.”

  As if to punctuate her words, a window to their right blew out, glass exploding, flames licking the outside air hungrily. Both Josie and Bronwyn instinctively threw their arms and hands up to block any glass or fire that might reach them. Glass sparkled on the sleeves of Josie’s jacket, but she lifted her arms again, imploring Bronwyn to climb to the window’s edge and jump. “We don’t have much time,” she said. “Jump now!”

  The h
eat blasted at her from every direction, the thick air clogging her lungs. It felt like an eternity before the girl climbed into the window frame, knobby knees sticking out of her shorts, blackened with grime.

  “Come on!” Josie coaxed.

  Finally, the girl jumped, landing awkwardly in Josie’s arms with one arm around Josie’s neck, her waist over one of Josie’s arms and a leg over the other. Josie teetered and lost her footing, crashing down onto the roof of the car. Instinctively, her arms held tight to any bony body part she could grasp, hoping they didn’t roll off the top of the car. Together, they slid down onto the hood of the vehicle. Quickly, Josie righted herself, sitting up and checking the girl over for injuries.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Bronwyn nodded, her big brown eyes sorrowful. “Did my grandpa get out?”

  Josie jumped off the hood of the car and guided Bronwyn to the rear driver’s side, pushing her inside. “I don’t know, Bronwyn. We have to wait for the firefighters. It’s too dangerous for us to go in there. The fire trucks are on their way. Right now, we have to get you away from the house.”

  The heat inside the vehicle was so intense, Josie momentarily considered abandoning it altogether. The headrest of her passenger’s side had begun to melt, leaving a horrible burned plastic smell. But the car was the fastest way to get them away from the house. Plus, Josie didn’t want to cause an explosion by leaving her vehicle so close to the fire. The engine sputtered to life. Josie threw the car into gear and slammed her foot onto the gas. The Escape bucked violently and pitched forward. She pushed harder on the gas pedal, the movement of the car like a lumbering beast with a lame leg. The tires closest to the house had probably started melting, too, she realized.

  “Come on,” she mumbled under her breath, pushing the car as far as it would go.

  When she was several yards from the house, she got back out and snatched Bronwyn from the back of the car. The girl was small and immediately wrapped herself around Josie—arms latched onto Josie’s neck and spindly legs cinched around Josie’s waist. Josie ran toward the front of the house, past the detritus of the playhouse, along the tree line to the welcome sight of the driveway. She followed it to the road, lungs burning, legs aching, holding tightly to the girl. As she reached the road, she saw Dorothy waving at a fire truck on the road headed in their direction.