Dripping wet, I tried not to take offense at what she said and focused on the fact that the sedative was starting to take effect. Her words were starting to slur. I had to figure out how to get out of here. Emily was bleeding profusely on the floor, and heaven only knew where Maria was.
“Does Benny know you killed them?” I asked.
“No. Like Fairlane, he’s also a little too focused on himself. But I can change him.”
I glanced around. I was cornered near the fireplace. I could charge and take her out the same way I’d done Benny. It was my only option at this point. I was just getting up the nerve when Glory grabbed a box of long stem matches from the hearth. She very carefully lit one and held it up.
She started to sing “Let it Snow,” and my panic rose.
When she got to the part about the fire being delightful, she dropped the match. The brandy that she’d sprayed earlier went up in flames.
I was still dripping, and suddenly I realized why she’d soaked me. I gulped as flames licked up the walls—and dangerously close to Emily.
Swallowing hard, I fought the images that popped into my head of those charred gingerbread men I’d seen in Glory’s shop.
No use. I could see them, clear as day, on a metal tray, charred almost beyond recognition. Fear swept over me, making me shiver.
“You’ll warm up in a minute,” Glory said. She lit another match and eyed me with a look that seared into my soul. “Your turn.”
Run, run, fast as I can…
Smoke filled the air. It was now or never. If I was going down, I was taking Glory with me.
I put my head down to charge when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I drew in a breath.
“Hey, psycho killer!” Maria shouted.
Glory turned just as Maria threw Flash’s baseball at her head. The ball hit Glory in the center of her forehead and she fell with a clunk. The match she’d been holding hit the floor and flames leapt and caught on Glory’s jeans.
“Grab Emily’s arm,” I choked out. The smoke was growing heavy as I lifted Emily’s other side.
Together, Maria and I dragged Emily outside. Benny took one look at us and drove off in a flurry of tire squeals.
As I headed back into the house, Maria grabbed my arm. “You can’t go in there!”
“I have to get Glory. I can’t leave her in there.” As much as she might deserve it, my guilt-o-meter would never allow it.
Slowly, she nodded. “I’ll go, too.”
“No! The baby. Stay here with Emily. Put pressure on her head wound.” I could hear sirens in the distance. The police would be here in a minute. Everything would be okay.
After stripping off my soaked shirt, I dropped to my knees in the doorway. I crawled toward where Glory had fallen, but she wasn’t in the spot she’d been a minute ago.
I glanced around but couldn’t see much father than what was directly in front of my face. I backed out and slipped when my hand landed on a ball. Flash’s baseball. Thank God it had been in my backpack.
I picked it up and was almost to the door when I saw all the pictures above my head ignite. I quickly thought of Emily and all she’d already lost. I took a deep breath, stood up, and plunged back into the house. I quickly found what I was looking for—the scrapbook Maria had made—and headed back for the door.
Woozy, I stumbled and fell to my knees. I gasped for breath that wouldn’t come.
Flames danced around me, and panic beat fiercely through my veins.
“Help,” I cried, though it came out in a pitiful whisper.
I tried to move forward but was frozen.
I was going to die.
A tear slid out of my eye, and I tried once again to move toward the door. I managed a few inches. If that.
I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see the flames. It was bad enough I felt the heat.
My head spun. I fought for every last breath. And just when I thought I couldn’t drag another into my seared lungs, I felt a strong pair of arms wrap around me.
I opened my eyes and saw Kevin’s face two inches in front of mine.
“Don’t worry, Nina,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
It was the last thing I remembered before everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty-three
Early Christmas Eve morning I was wrapping presents. Today was the big Ceceri-clan get-together at my parents’ house where we would all exchange presents, eat, drink, and be merry. Well, most of us would be there. My brother Peter couldn’t make it this year for Christmas, but he would be here for New Year’s. Brickhouse and Mr. Cabrera couldn’t make it, either, even though my mother had declared them honorary family members. They were away at a little inn in the country…
It had seemed a waste to cancel my and Bobby’s nonrefundable reservation so I had given it to them. They’d been thrilled.
Also added to our honorary family member list was Kit. He would be there, along with Ana, and her new tattoo. I’d gone with her last night to finish the job—the tattoo was tiny but very pretty. The sedative plus a little numbing cream had done the trick—the cream had been the suggestion of a nurse at the hospital where I’d been treated and released after the fire.
The fire.
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, trying not to think of what could have happened.
Trying not to think of what had actually happened.
I stuck a piece of tape on the present I was wrapping and cursed when I noticed my hair stuck to it. No one wanted my DNA as a present, I was sure. I carefully peeled the tape off and tried again.
I looked at the empty fireplace and thought a fire right now sounded nice, to chase the chill out the air. But I could still smell smoke on my skin—phantom smoke certainly since I’d showered about twenty times in two days—and shuddered at the thought of flames. Even if they were safely contained in a hearth.
The aftermath of what had happened was still a little fuzzy, but Kevin had filled in the details while I was at the hospital. Of how Glory had been found, alive, in the backyard. She had suffered burns but would be just fine in time.
Of how Benny was found, dead, his car crashed not very far from a little white cross along the side of the road. It was believed to have been an accident...black ice.
I wasn’t sure I believed that it had been an accident, and not Benny’s way of finally admitting guilt.
We would never know.
Of how Emily’s farmhouse had been nearly destroyed. It would take months to renovate. Months she would stay at Maria’s house—after Emily was released from the hospital. Meanwhile, the goats and chickens were being cared for by Kit.
He was a man of many talents apparently.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the doorbell rang. It was early, barely seven, and I wasn’t expecting anyone. I carefully stood up as to not step on my mother’s new robe. She would forgive me, especially after she found the gift certificate to the Ink Bottle in the robe’s pocket and the complete DVD set of the Sopranos underneath it. I walked to the front window and peeked out to see who stood on the porch and felt my eyes widen.
I unlatched the locks and opened the door.
“Nice sheep,” he said, referring to my sheep-printed pajamas.
Tears immediately filled my eyes.
Bobby pulled me into his arms. “I missed you.”
All I could do was nod and breathe in his scent. Only, it didn’t smell as familiar anymore.
When he let me go, I spotted the U-haul truck parked in his driveway.
He followed my gaze, then said softly, “I came back to pack some things up. A quick trip.”
I motioned him inside and closed the door behind him. Wiping my tears away, I looked him up and down. Other than his blue eyes seeming a little tired, he looked good. His blond hair was a little blonder, he had a nice tan going, and he was as fit as ever. My gaze dropped to his feet. He wore my favorite pair of snakeskin boots.
I spoke around the huge lump in my throat. “How
quick? When do you head back?”
“A few minutes.”
“What?”
“I got in late yesterday and have been packing all night. I need to get back. I left Mac in charge.”
He’d got in last night and was just now coming to see me?
I sat on the edge of the sofa and tried to blame the ache in my chest on the residual effect of the smoke inhalation I suffered. But the ache quickly spread throughout my whole body—even my nerves tingled from it.
I hadn’t told him about the fire. About almost being killed. Maybe I should have—maybe it would have made him realize how close he’d come to losing me for good. Maybe it would make him realize how much he wanted me in his life, no matter what.
But he had to realize that on his own.
He had to want to make a long-distance relationship work.
We both did.
And right now, after seeing that U-haul, I began to think that he’d been right. That staying in this relationship wasn’t fair to either of us.
But letting go was so very hard.
“Coffee?” I asked.
“No. Thanks.” He stepped toward me. “I just wanted to see you before I left.”
I nodded.
He cupped my cheek with his hand and tilted my head so I’d look at him. There were tears in his eyes, too. And that made me ache so much worse.
“This isn’t goodbye forever,” he said softly. “It’s just goodbye for now.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him. A tear slid down my cheek. Then another and another. He pulled me up into his arms and kissed me.
A goodbye kiss.
Whether “for now” or “forever” remained to be seen.
“You’ll keep in touch?” he said as he pulled away.
I nodded. “You?”
He nodded, too. He kissed me one more time and looked at me long and hard. “Don’t put my pictures in the garbage disposal, okay?”
I wanted to smile but couldn’t. Right before I’d met Bobby, I’d clogged my sink by stuffing pictures of Kevin down the drain. “I promise,” I said, my voice cracking.
Standing in the doorway, I watched him walk away. He crossed the street, climbed into the U-haul, and backed out of his driveway.
He stopped for a moment, in the middle of the street, and looked at me, holding my gaze.
I silently begged him not to go.
He lifted his hand in a final goodbye and drove away.
Through my tears, I barely made out the taillights of the truck as it turned the corner and disappeared.
He was gone.
***
Santa was still on the roof.
My mother handed me a glass of champagne and sat down beside me on the loveseat. Gracie was tucked next to me on the other side, sound asleep. I could feel her rhythmic breathing patterns against my leg. I pet her head. BeBe, Kit’s huge mastiff, wandered around the house, sniffing to her heart’s content. Thankfully, my mother had put her good crystal pieces up, out of the way of BeBe’s destructive tail.
“Do not tell your father,” Mom said, “but I kind of like that Santa on the roof so I didn’t put up much of a fuss about taking it down.”
“Will you put it up again next year?” I asked, watching my father watch us. I winked at him. Beads of sweat popped up on his bald head.
My mother smiled. “We’ll see. It certainly makes your father happy. And after the present he bought me, I can be a little less Scroogey about his choice in holiday decor.”
“Mom!” Maria whined. “Can you bring me a cannoli?”
“Coming!” my mother said, jumping to attention.
Maria had finally revealed her big news. And was milking it for all it was worth.
Nate played Christmas carols on the piano as my father came over to me. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
I patted his cheek. “We had a deal, remember?”
My silence in exchange for him buying my mother a vacation to Fiji.
I added, “I always keep my end of a bargain.”
“Bargain. Ha! I’ll be paying for that trip for years.”
I leaned in and whispered, “It’ll be worth it. She actually likes the Santa.”
It had been my father all along. The snow globe. The Santa and reindeer. The candles. When I confronted him, he said it was his way of taking back Christmas. I couldn’t say I agreed with his methods, but I certainly couldn’t blame him for resorting to them in the first place.
In addition to the Fiji tickets, I’d elicited his promise that he’d tell Mom how he felt left out during the holidays.
He said he would.
Next year.
Smart man. Maybe by then Mom would forget how mad she was.
My father wandered off to watch Riley and Kit play a game of chess. Ana curled up next to me on the loveseat and took my hand in hers. “You’re breaking my heart.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re a big honkin’ liar.”
I smiled. “I know.”
She squeezed my hand. “Do you want me to blow up a life-sized picture of him so we can throw darts at it?”
I blinked away sudden tears and wondered when that would stop happening. I’d been a puddle most of the day. “Thanks, but I’m not mad at him. I’m just sad.”
“I know,” Ana said, putting her head on my shoulder. “I know.” She sighed. We sat there for a while listening to Nate’s carols before she said, “It’s nice that Kevin let you bring Riley over.”
“Yeah.” I watched him ponder a chess move. I’d been so glad when Riley had wanted to come with me tonight, even though it was Kevin’s weekend to have him. It was a tradition I wasn’t ready to lose just yet.
“Kit and I are ordering in Chinese food tomorrow. Why don’t you come over?”
“Thanks, but I have plans.”
“With?”
“Swiss Miss and Jimmy Stewart.”
“Really, come over.”
I shook my head.
She sighed again. “The offer stands. Well, until BeBe steals all the Chinese food leftovers.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Kit threw his hands up in defeat and Riley beamed in satisfaction. Ana left me to take him on, and Kit took her place at my side.
“Are you going to get mushy gushy on me, too?” I asked.
“I don’t do mush and gush.”
I smiled. A genuine smile. I really hoped things worked out between him and Ana. “Liar.”
“Fine. Just don’t let it get around. I have a reputation to uphold.” Reaching into his fleece pullover, he pulled out a disc with a bow stuck to it. “Watch it when you get home. It’s bound to cheer you up.”
“What’s on it?”
“You’ll see.” He pushed forward to lever off the loveseat, then froze and looked back at me. His eyes were shiny and bright. “If you want me to track him down and kick his ass, I will. Just let me know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You have my cell number.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Oh, and thanks again for the camera.” His gaze landed on Ana. “I plan to try it out tonight.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Ugh. “Please don’t make me regret the purchase.” I thanked my lucky stars that I decided against a video camera for him.
He laughed and headed for the kitchen.
As soon as he left, Maria sat down next to me.
“I sense a conspiracy,” I said.
She licked the cream out of one end of a cannoli. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I haven’t had a moment alone since I walked in the door.”
She shrugged. “Maybe you shouldn’t be alone right now. Come stay at my house tonight.”
“Gracie.”
“Understood. Then stay here at Mom’s.”
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted. And I would be. Some time alone wasn’t a bad idea.
I hoped.
“I heard Jenny Christm
as is going to try and keep Christmastowne open.”
“I heard that, too,” I said.
In the aftermath of what happened, Jenny had played the role of grieving widow perfectly. Benny’s death had ensured Christmastowne’s success. Jenny finally got what she wanted. But at what cost? I wondered.
True, she’d paid a hefty price over the years for her allegiance to her husband. It should have been punishment enough, but I couldn’t help feeling she deserved something harsher. Many people had been hurt because of her choice to keep quiet.
“Emily should be released sometime tomorrow,” Maria said.
“It was very nice of you to offer to let her stay at your house.”
“Nice and a little self-serving,” she admitted. “She’s going to teach me how to cook and make soap from goat’s milk!”
I smiled. Maria would always be Maria. I leaned into her. “Have I said thank you yet?”
“For what?”
“Saving my life.”
“Oh, that. No, you haven’t. And I’ve been waiting.” She pouted.
I smiled, recalling our conversation in my kitchen the other day. “Thanks for not letting me die.”
“Aren’t you glad I never listen to you?”
“Yes, yes I am.” I laughed. “You have good aim.”
“I know. Was Flash happy to get his ball back?”
“He didn’t even mind the soot marks.”
“All’s well,” Maria said. “Do you want a cannoli?”
“Sure.”
“Mom! Nina wants a cannoli!”
“Coming right up!” my mother yelled back.
“This pregnancy thing has some benefits,” Maria said.
“Personally, I can’t wait to see what it does to your hips.”
Maria frowned and dropped what little was left of her cannoli on her plate. “Thanks a lot, Nina. After I went and saved your life, too.”
I put my arm around her and hugged. “Merry Christmas, Maria.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She gave me a noisy kiss on my cheek. “To you, too.”
Trouble Under the Tree (A Nina Quinn Mystery) Page 17