Close To The Fire

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Gage grabbed him by the shirt and forced him back against the truck. “Yeah, and you charging in there will force his hand.”

  “Let me go, Gunslinger. I’m not going to let him hurt her.” He fought the urge to plant his fist in his friend’s face.

  “Think a minute, Deke. Right now, he’s focused on having Libby to himself. You showing up before we’re sure what he’s got planned, could make him take the if-I-can’t-have-her-no-one-will route and kill her.” Gage gave him a hard shake. “I know you love her, but take control of that panic to get to your woman. Right now time and surprise are on our side.”

  The words slammed through the panic and anger racing through his veins like an out of control burn. Gage was right. Going in before he knew what Banyon had planned was more likely to get Libby killed. They needed a plan.

  He held up his hands. “Okay. Okay. You’re right.”

  “Don’t try to call her, either,” Gage said, looking at the phone in Deke’s hand. “We don’t want anything to tip this guy into acting too quickly.”

  Damn, why hadn’t he thought that? As much as he wanted to hear her voice and know she was okay, he pocketed his phone. “We need a plan. Fast.”

  “How many residents are currently living in the Colbert House?” Gage asked, releasing him and stepping back.

  “Libby said four, Kyle and three others. We need to find out if they’re in the house.” Deke looked over Gage’s shoulder to Kyle who’d come with most of the others to find out what had happened.

  “Most of them should be at work this time of night,” he said. “One works at the bakery, one at the hardware store and the other guy’s at that garage/gas station out on the highway.”

  Gage pulled out his phone. “I’d like to have as many deputies as possible meet us near Colbert, but we have to verify those three aren’t in danger, too.”

  “We can go, Coach,” Mike Cohn, the defensive linebacker said, the other three football players with him nodding their willingness to help. “We can split up and check out all three places real quick.”

  Gage looked at Deke. He nodded. The more help there left more officers to help save Libby.

  “Go. Call my cell as soon as you’ve verified that the guys are at work.”

  “And don’t cause them any trouble at work or accuse them of any participation in this,” Deke said, before the quartet could leave. “They’ve had a hard enough time.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said and took off at a run for their cars.

  “How do we get Libby free without triggering Banyon to start another fire?” Deke asked, rubbing his hand over his face and down the scars of his neck.

  “I know a way in,” Kyle said.

  “How?” Deke asked.

  “There’s an old tunnel that leads out of the house into this dugout that’s in the woods behind the house. Maybe fifty yards? Kind of hard to find, especially now that the sun’s gone down.”

  “Come on, you can show me.” Deke opened his door. He stopped and turned to Gage. “Give us time to get to the spot and into the cellar, before you approach out front. Kerosene takes a little time to get a big blaze going, so if we’re inside before he lights it up, we might have a chance of saving her.”

  “Will do.” Gage said, already on his phone to his deputies.

  “Lorna,” Deke called to the café owner as he started the engine. “Keep everyone away that you can. Libby’s life might depend on it.”

  She nodded then turned to shoo the crowd back inside. “You heard the man. We’ll wait together for our boys to bring Libby home safe and sound.”

  Deke just prayed he’d be in time to save Libby and bring her home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The need to get to Libby drove Deke to press harder on the gas pedal as he weaved his way through the streets of Westen.

  “You’re sure you can get me into the house without Banyon knowing we’re there?” he asked the teen sitting beside him.

  “Yes. I tested it more than once,” Kyle said.

  Deke glanced at the kid, who was gripping the hand-hold to keep from flying around when he took a corner. Refocusing on the road, Deke slowed a little. It wouldn’t do Libby any good if they crashed and died on the way to her rescue.

  “How did you find this entrance?”

  The kid hesitated so long that Deke thought he wasn’t going to answer.

  “First thing I do whenever I get moved to a new place is reconnoiter the area and look for an alternate escape route.”

  Kid sounded like a damn soldier or former prisoner.

  “Libby said she thought you might be what’s called a runner. Is that why they’ve moved you so many times?”

  Again a prolonged silence.

  “Yeah. Ever since my mom died, I knew that no one was going to look out for me. I had to do it myself. Most places turn out to be bad on the inside. And if you’re lucky to find a good one, something from your past will pop up and you’re kicked out.”

  Deke took the last corner onto Colbert Street, stopping a few houses from the halfway house and killing the engine. “Which way to the tunnel entrance?” he asked as they climbed out of the cab.

  Kyle pointed to the right. “We cut through this back yard and into the woods. I’ll show you from there.”

  Deke went to the truck bed and opened the gear box he kept locked there. He pulled out the handgun and two flashlights.

  “Whoa.” Kyle’s eyes had gone wide at the sight of the gun. “You mean business.”

  “The son of a bitch has Libby. No way does he have a chance to hurt her.” He handed one of the flashlights to the teen. “You lead the way, but keep the light off until we’re in the woods. No need to get the neighbors curious.”

  Kyle nodded and took off at a slow trot through the yard.

  A low-pitched rumble sounded overhead as Deke followed. A quick glance and he saw the sky finally full of dark clouds. No rain for nearly two months and tonight it decides to end the drought. He hoped the coming storm wasn’t a bad omen.

  * * * * *

  Slowly, Libby felt the hard fog lift. Groggy, as if she’d had way too much vodka the night before, she tried to rub her hand over her eyes, but she couldn’t move her arm.

  What the hell? Had it gone to sleep while she was sleeping?

  And why was she sleeping sitting straight up in a chair?

  She shook her head to clear the fogginess and tried to move the other arm. It wouldn’t move, either. And she could feel both her hands and arms. No pins-and-needles sensation like when they were numb.

  Squinting against the overhead light, she tried to figure out where she was.

  Someone’s kitchen? Not hers. This was newer. It had the kind of stone backsplash she’d wanted in her kitchen if she ever had the money to remodel it. She’d seen it before. No, she’d helped install it. When the town had chipped in as a group to upgrade the turn-of-the-century house on Colbert Street to make the new halfway house.

  Colbert House. Kyle’s room. The paper. Todd.

  Footsteps sounded just outside the kitchen then the door opened.

  Speak of the devil.

  “Good. Glad to see you’re waking up from your little nap. I was thinking I’d have to slap you to get your attention.”

  “What—?” She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. Dear God, how long had she been out? Had he raped her? Her pulse raced and she fought against the sick feeling in her stomach.

  “What did I do to you? Not what you think, though trust me, I wanted to have my conjugal rights with you, even if you weren’t awake to enjoy it. But there just isn’t time. In the end this will be so much purer.” He gave an eerie chuckle that sent ice skittering down her spine. “In the end. All our sins burned away. Yes. That’s what this will be—a perfect ending to our relationship.”

  Relationship? He thought they were dating or something? Crazy. Yep, totally off his rocker.

  Time. She needed time for Deke to find her. Surely, he’d noticed
she’d been gone longer than she’d said she would. Her heart settled into a more steady rhythm. Deke would find her.

  “You started those fires,” she said more than asked. She needed to get him talking.

  A slow smile spread over Banyon’s face, eyes lighting up with a sickening pleasure. “You did notice. I knew you would.”

  Dear God, had he set them for her?

  “They were amazing. Powerful.” She tried to make her voice sound impressed instead of repulsed. The last thing she needed to do was push him farther over the line.

  “I wanted you to see the depth of my love for you. That no one could love you more. Not even that fireman.”

  He walked behind her. She tried to turn and see what he was doing, but the duct tape he’d used had her arms, legs and torso too securely bound to the chair.

  “If you set the fires for me, why did you try to blame the boy…Kyle for it?”

  “Ah, that was pure serendipity,” he said, his voice sounding far off, as if he’d stepped out of the room.

  What was he doing? “Serendipity?”

  “You know, something not planned for falling into your lap. That’s what Kyle was. His background being sealed was a red flag that was just too tempting. I never could resist secrets. The file begged to be hacked.”

  Great. Todd was a hacker, as well as a crazy arsonist.

  Something sounded like it was being poured behind her. Then the smell hit her.

  Kerosene.

  * * * * *

  They found the entrance to the storm cellar with relative ease, but only because Kyle knew exactly where to look.

  “You were right,” Deke said to Kyle as they pried it open. “I’d still be wandering around out here looking for the entrance.”

  “It’s still a little tricky inside,” Kyle said, pointing his flashlight inside and stepping into the storm cellar. “Coach, I have something to tell you. You aren’t going to like it. You might want to kick me off the team or out of town because of it.”

  Deke kept his eyes on the kid’s back as he led the way down the earthen tunnel full of tree roots overhead. “This have something to do with your past?”

  “Yes, sir.” A slight tremor filled the young man’s voice. “It’s about my parents…my dad, actually.”

  “You’re Leo Harkin’s son. The man who started the fire that killed my friend.”

  Silence reigned between them for a few minutes. The only sound the crunching of dirt, bugs, and who-knew-what-else beneath their feet.

  “It’s not just that, sir. I was there.”

  “I know.” Deke nearly ran into Kyle, who’d stopped quickly in front of him and was looking over his shoulder at him.

  “You knew? And you don’t hate me?”

  “I never did, son. You didn’t start that fire. I saw the fear of it on your face when I looked out the window of the warehouse that night. You’re not your father. None of it was your fault. Not the fire. Not my scars. Not my friend’s death.” He laid a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. You be the kind of man you want to be.”

  Relief flooded the teen’s face. “Thanks. I was afraid you’d think I had something to do with Banyon’s fires.”

  “No, and besides, you’re helping me save Libby.” He gave him a nod. “How much farther to the cellar?”

  “We’re here.”

  Deke flashed his light beyond Kyle. They’d stopped in front of a wall of wooden planks. No door.

  “Hold this, Coach,” Kyle said, handing him his flashlight.

  With two hands the teen lifted the board and moved it to the side.

  On the other side was a brick wall.

  * * * * *

  Shit. Shit. Shit. He was going to burn her—alive.

  Think, Elizabeth. Stay calm. You can do this. You’ve been trained to get people to talk to you. Keep him talking.

  “That’s how you found out about Kyle’s parents. You hacked into the state’s databases.”

  “Very good. I’d heard the rumors about your brother’s death and the fireman’s involvement. But finding out the son of the artist who’d created that burn was living in this town, right under the fireman’s nose…? It was just too perfect to pass up.”

  He moved in front of her, slowly pouring a ring of kerosene around her, leaving about two feet of space. “So I decided to emulate Leo’s methods. I’d thought to use gasoline for the fast burn, but Leo was a genius. He understood the dance the fire wanted to do on its path to glory.”

  Todd’s eyes took on a glazed look. He got off on the burn. So not good.

  “Kerosene lets it move, slither, seduce until the heat is too much and the flames shoot higher.”

  She fought the shiver of dread that arced over her body. “But why not take credit for your creation?”

  He finished the circle and finally poured the noxious liquid on his pant legs. Pulling a second kitchen chair into the center of the circle with her, he sat.

  “The first fire was supposed to serve as a warning. He wanted what was mine. You are mine. But you didn’t listen. He didn’t listen. So, I needed to make the second fire more personal.”

  “And leaving the T-shirt?” Subtly she tried to flex and relax her wrists to loosen the tape. Not much more give, but she’d keep trying while he talked.

  Leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other as if they were having a casual conversation, he pulled out a cigarette and lighter.

  Dear God, he wasn’t going to light up now? He truly was crazy.

  “When I hacked into the kid’s file, I read all of it. Saw how his father was a smoker, used him as a human ashtray, in fact. Why not use the fact to point the fireman after the son of the man who nearly killed him?”

  “Why do you hate Deke so much?” she asked without thinking.

  Suddenly Todd was leaning in, inches from her face. All humor gone, his features a caricature of hatred and anger. “Because he wants you and you were a whore willing to let him sniff around you.”

  Think. How to play him?

  “You think I wanted him in my bed?”

  “Please, you were like a bitch in heat for him,” he snarled, inches from her face.

  Make him think we’re on the same side. That Deke means nothing to you.

  “No. I just wanted to make him suffer more,” she said, trying not to choke on the words. “You’re right. He couldn’t control the fire’s dance. And worse, he let it kill my brother.”

  * * * * *

  “I thought you said this was a way into the house?” Deke’s heart and temper raced at the idea they’d wasted precious time on a dead end. Then the kid smiled.

  “Watch this.” He leaned in on one edge and the wall swiveled like on an axis, half into the tunnel, the other half into the cellar.

  Deke relaxed and dropped a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Good job. Now you head back the other way. Out of danger.”

  “No can do, sir.” A stubborn set had come over Kyle as he shook his head. “Ms. Wilson’s been nice to me. I want to help you save her.”

  “I don’t have time to argue, son. I can’t worry about you and Libby.”

  “A team works better than an individual. Isn’t that what you tell us every day at practice?” Before Deke could argue, Kyle hurried on. “It’s like that play you taught us on the field—a delayed safety blitz. Make the quarterback think the pocket is a safe place when the linebackers move to cover the receivers and bring the safety in at the last minute to sack the QB.” He held Deke’s gaze with his own steady one. “I can do this, Coach.”

  Deke saw the determination in his voice. Kyle needed to help him rescue Libby, because he hadn’t been able to save his mother or stop Bill from dying in that fire.

  “Okay, but keep behind me, and if I say get out, you book like a three-hundred-pound lineman is on your ass. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Now where do those stairs lead?” he asked, pointing to the stairs on the far side
of the cellar.

  “To the hallway between the kitchen—to the right—and the living room—to the left.”

  Deke slipped his phone out of his pocket and dialed Gage’s number. “We’re in the cellar, Gunslinger.”

  “My men are outside,” Gage replied. “I’ve got the fire engines on both sides of the street ready to go. The other members of the house are all accounted for at their jobs. How you want to handle this?”

  “Give us three minutes to find Libby. Then you hit the front door.”

  “You got it. Just be sure to get all three of you out of there.”

  Deke hit disconnect and pocketed his phone again, heading for the stairs, Kyle on his six. He’d started up the stairs when Kyle grabbed him from behind. He froze and looked back at the kid.

  “Fourth step from the top creaks,” Kyle leaned in close and whispered.

  Deke nodded. When he got to it, he stepped over the creaky board to the one above it. He could hear voices through the door. And the smell.

  Kerosene.

  Fuck. Banyon meant to burn the house down with Libby in it, like some kind of satipratha—the outlawed Indian custom of burning widows alive on the husband’s funeral pyre.

  Slowly, Deke turned the doorknob, praying it wouldn’t make a sound. It didn’t.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  He eased the door open. The voices came from his right, toward the kitchen.

  “You think I wanted him in my bed?” Libby’s voice.

  Thank God, she was alive.

  “Please, you were like a bitch in heat for him.” Todd shouted.

  “No. I just wanted to make him suffer more. You’re right. He couldn’t control the fire’s dance. And worse, he let it kill my brother.”

  Deke’s knees nearly buckled at her words.

  Had she been playing him? She’d said she’d forgiven him. Had she been lying?

  “She doesn’t mean it, Coach,” Kyle whispered practically in his ear. “It’s a diversion. Trying to keep him from hurting her.”

  Kyle was right. He had to have faith in her. She was buying time, trying to keep Banyon happy and not push him into lighting the place up.