by Leah Martyn
His mouth tightened and he took her hand, raising it to his mouth. ‘So we wait.’ He gave her a gentle push towards the driver’s side of her car.
Why did she feel she’d disappointed him? Jane felt her legs go to jelly, her fingers stiff and clumsy, as she aimed the key at the lock.
‘Hang on!’
The urgency in Riley’s voice had her looking over her shoulder at him, her eyebrows raised in query. ‘What’s up?’
He ambled across to her. ‘You’ve a flat tyre.’
Damn. Jane sighed in frustration. ‘Then could you call a cab for me, please?’
‘Don’t be silly.’ His dark brows edged together. ‘I’ll change it for you. Is your spare in the boot?’
‘No.’
He rubbed a hand through his hair impatiently. ‘How many times have I told you, Janey, to keep your spare tyre on hand?’
‘I always do,’ she defended herself, her eyes flaring with resentment. ‘This is my spare.’ She kicked the offending tyre with the toe of her shoe. ‘One of the front tyres was flat this morning. I dropped it off at the garage for repair, intending to pick it up after work.’
‘Well, obviously you’re too late now.’ His mouth twisted slightly. ‘Hang on while I get my keys. I’ll run you home.’
‘I don’t need you to do that, Riley,’ she snapped ungenerously. ‘Just call me a cab.’
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand, disappearing back up into the flat as Jane looked on resignedly.
Sitting high up in Riley’s Land Rover a few minutes later, Jane wondered how fate could have been so unkind? Would she be faced with another anticlimax when they reached her place? Would Riley seek to talk her round to letting him stay? She stifled a sigh. Her head was beginning to ache with the effort of just thinking about all the possibilities.
‘Stop it, Jane.’ Calmly, deliberately, Riley placed his hand on her thigh.
‘What…?’ She looked down, barely able to breathe, feeling the warmth of him through the thin stuff of her skirt.
‘Relax. Please. I won’t ask for anything you don’t want to give,’ he confirmed softly.
He’d placed the onus right back on her, Jane realised with a little twist of resentment. ‘This is the long way to my place,’ she said thinly.
‘Is it?’ Riley lifted a shoulder. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’
Of course he had. ‘I don’t see how you can say one thing and do another,’ she said, trying to stay rational. ‘This isn’t some kind of game. We’re talking about the rest of our lives here. And if you’re hoping that, by going the long way, you’re giving me more time to change my mind about us, then think again.’
‘It was worth a try.’ He huffed an unrepentant laugh, stealing a narrowed look at her. ‘Oh, come on! We’re married. It’s hardly a cardinal sin for me to want us to share a bed again, is it?’
Jane took a breath so deep it hurt. ‘Then let’s get it out of the way.’ She folded her arms, staring ahead.
There was a significant, brittle silence.
‘We deserve better than that, Jane.’
She blinked, absorbing the hurt in his voice. She felt shattered, remorseful, angry, all rolled into one. She leaned back in the seat, easing the tension in her shoulders.
And then she saw it.
‘Riley, stop!’ She made a grab at his arm.
He jammed on the brakes, his gaze swivelling to where she was pointing. Smoke was coming in great clouds from behind a nearby high fence.
For a moment Jane thought she might be sick. ‘It’s the women’s shelter! Please, we have to do something…’
‘Like calling the fire brigade.’ Riley looked grim as he slid his mobile out of his back pocket.
‘They’ll take an age.’ Jane looked around agitatedly. ‘It’s a volunteer service and it’s a Friday night. They could all be anywhere.’
Riley swore under his breath, stabbing out the emergency number. He threw open his door. ‘Stay close to me,’ he ordered, grabbing her hand and towing her across the road to the scene of the smoke.
The timber front gate was standing wide open. That sight alone filled Jane with alarm. ‘I think someone’s broken in.’
Riley’s face grew grim. A fire, deliberately set, gave rise to sinister implications. ‘Is there a caretaker or someone living here?’
‘Manager. She lives in a flat at the rear. But she wouldn’t be there. She’s a telephone counsellor for Lifeline on Friday evenings.’
‘Whoever’s done this has chosen their time, then.’
Jane went cold, her fearful gaze running the length of the building. Were Julie’s fears about to be realised? Had the man she’d run from found her and her children, intending to execute some kind of revenge on the little family?
‘How many are likely to be in residence?’ Fruitlessly, Riley rattled the handle of the front security door.
Jane looked wildly around. ‘No idea. But at least three. A girl called Julie and her two children—little ones, two and four.’ Jane’s fingers searched frantically for a possible spare key above the door or under the pot plant.
‘Get real, Jane.’ Riley’s clipped voice sounded next to her ear. ‘No one hides keys in obvious places in this day and age. The front door’s locked like a fortress. I’ll have to break in through the window.’
‘You’ll cut yourself to pieces!’ Jane felt almost ill with apprehension and the stench of smoke was getting worse by the second. Even if Riley could get inside the house, he would be taking his life in his hands.
‘Let’s get back to the car,’ he ordered and began running. ‘Grab everything you can, Jane.’ Swiftly, he unlocked the rear section of the Land Rover. ‘I’m well stocked and heaven knows what we’ll end up needing.’
‘How will you break in?’ Jane located the emergency oxygen kit and space blankets and made them into a manageable bundle.
‘Tyre lever.’ Riley hefted his medical bag and a woollen jumper off the back seat. ‘Where the hell are the smoke alarms when you need them?’ he growled.
‘I think there’s only one in the kitchen,’ Jane gasped, running beside him. ‘The smoke seems contained near the bedrooms.’
‘Stand back.’ With the jumper twisted around his hand for protection, Riley lifted the tyre lever and sent it crashing through the pane of glass. In one lithe movement, he hoisted himself through the opening, moving to unlock the front door.
‘Stay there, Jane.’ His tone brooked no argument. ‘This needs only one of us.’
‘Riley!’ Jane’s voice rose in protest. ‘Let me help!’
‘You’ll help best by staying here and dealing with any casualties. Believe me, I know what I’m doing.’
Jane clenched a hand to her breast as he positioned the jumper to cover his nose and mouth and began to move inside towards the hallway and bedrooms.
He was back in seconds, carrying a small bundle.
‘Oh, my God!’ Jane immediately recognised the toddler. ‘It’s Tamika.’ Steeling herself, she took the child from him. ‘Who could have done this?’ she agonised under her breath, laying the little one down gingerly.
‘There’s another one in there.’ Riley’s breath caught harshly and he coughed against the smoke irritation in his lungs and throat.
‘Riley, be careful!’ Panic tore at Jane, and she swallowed hard to prevent herself from running after him as he dived back into the smoke-filled house.
And then someone began screaming—terrible heart-wrenching sounds that had a cold river of dread running down Jane’s spine. Her mouth went dry. Julie? It had to be. Jane felt crippled with indecision. Despite Riley’s instructions, every instinct willed her to go to the aid of the young mum.
Even while the thoughts hurtled through her mind, Riley exploded through the doorway, his broad shoulders hunched, his head down, cradling the other child safely in his arms. Julie was behind him, her arms clasped around his waist, blindly following her rescuer out into the fresh air.
‘Is anyone else
in there?’ Riley’s sharp question jerked Julie into a semblance of calm.
‘No,’ she croaked, staring up at him. ‘There was just us.’
‘Is Marianne out?’ Jane wrapped a space blanket around the young mother’s shuddering form.
‘Sh-she wanted to stay home.’ Julie’s teeth began chattering. ‘But I said we’d be OK. But we weren’t. He’s killed my kids.’ She began sobbing.
Brandon, the little boy, stirred and coughed.
‘I don’t think so.’ Riley raised his voice in an effort to penetrate the young woman’s hysteria. ‘In fact, I’d say you have one smart little boy here. He lay on the floor to escape most of the smoke. And that must have been something you’d taught him.’
Julie put a hand to her mouth, nodding vigorously. ‘‘‘Keep down low and go, go, go.’’ We saw it on TV. He must have remembered.’
‘There you are, then.’ Riley was gentle, guiding the young mother down onto a garden seat. ‘Take some deep breaths now. Everything will be all right. Jane and I just need to see what we can do for your children, OK?’
Listening to her husband, Jane swallowed. Her face felt tight, aching. But over and over again she was grateful for Riley’s presence. Thank heaven they had taken the long way home or who knew what kind of tragedy might have occurred.
They worked swiftly.
‘What’s her name?’ Riley’s face was grim as he hunkered down beside Jane and looked at the toddler.
‘Tamika. She’s two.’
‘Bastard,’ he ground out under his breath. ‘I hope he gets life for this.’
Jane bit her lips together. He’d already decided that Julie’s former boyfriend was culpable. ‘Riley, we don’t know for sure it wasn’t an accident.’
‘Oh, we know.’ He was checking the child’s vital signs as he spoke. ‘There was a bundle of clothes smouldering on top of the lounge—men’s clothes,’ he emphasised. ‘The fire had already taken a slow hold in the kids’ bedroom. Hence all the smoke.’
Jane was shaken. ‘That’s awful.’ She turned her attention back to the child. ‘She’s still unconscious and both her hands are burned.’
‘On the positive side, her pulse is strong and she’s breathing OK. Right, let’s get an IV in before she goes into shock.’
Jane whipped out the bag of fluid from his case. ‘She’ll have shut down in her arms, Riley.’
‘Better go for the foot, then.’
Jane began to prepare a wide-bore cannula, facing the unpalatable fact she felt too shaken to carry out the procedure. ‘I’d feel happier if you did it.’
His mouth compressed. ‘OK. Angle the torch this way so I can see to get a vein.’
‘Children’s veins are so tiny…’ Jane watched as he palpated the top of Tamika’s little foot and with skilful precision slid the cannula into place.
‘There you are, little one,’ Riley said softly, using just the tip of his index finger to brush the silky fair hair away from Tamika’s forehead. He glanced across at Jane. ‘Have you checked her mouth for smoke inhalation?’
‘Clear.’ Jane had dreaded finding the tell-tale signs of sooty marks but, thank goodness, there’d been none. ‘I’d say you got her out just in time.’
‘Right.’ Riley ran his stethoscope over his small patient’s chest again. ‘Lungs sound fine. I’d like to get some wet towels around her hands, though.’
‘Marianne’s left me a key to her flat.’ Julie seemed to come to life. ‘I could look there.’ She ran, pathetically eager to be doing something useful for her child.
Jane had moved across to Brandon. He was wide-eyed, still clasping his teddy bear. ‘I’ve put him on one hundred per cent oxygen to be on the safe side,’ she told Riley quietly. ‘And his mouth’s clear.’
‘Good.’ Riley’s face worked for a second. ‘The ambulance is taking its own sweet time.’
‘It’s Friday night,’ Jane reminded him again.
‘Then they’re no doubt sorting out the results of punch-ups at the pubs.’ He was curt, straightening to his full height, hands on hips, eyes narrowed as he listened for the ambulance siren. ‘At last.’ He blew out a relieved sigh. ‘Here comes the cavalry by the sound of it.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘AT LEAST they’ll be safe for tonight.’ Jane watched the ambulance move off, carrying Julie and her children to the hospital. The fire was all but extinguished and the whole situation had been taken over by the professionals.
‘Mmm.’ Riley tipped his head back. The stars just above them were veiled by smoke. ‘The police definitely suspect arson. They’ll need a statement from Julie about this scumbag she was living with.’
‘Is she up to it?’
‘Probably not.’ Almost distractedly, he scraped the palm of his hand around his jaw. ‘But the sooner they have her information, the sooner they can put out an alert for him.’
Jane chewed her lip. ‘It’s a mystery how he found them. I suppose it was him?’
‘No doubt. Julie recognised something amongst the clothing that was used to start the fire. A distinctive kind of belt buckle he liked to wear. And the police believe he got in through the louvres in the kids’ playroom. Removed them painstakingly one by one. Julie confirmed the opening would have been enough to accommodate his rather wiry build.’
Jane stared at him, shocked by the cold calculation of the arsonist. ‘It’s scary, isn’t it?’ She shook her head, half-heartedly beginning to gather up the medical paraphernalia to be returned to the Land Rover. ‘Marianne was quite shaken and blaming herself for being out. But she seems to think the committee will be able to get the repairs under way fairly quickly. In the meantime, she’ll find somewhere else for Julie and the children to stay.’
It was after midnight when they got back to Jane’s place.
‘Cup of tea?’ She went to the sink, preparing to fill the electric kettle.
‘Got anything stronger?’
Jane turned her head, catching Riley’s unguarded expression, and felt a huge wave of tenderness curl round her heart. She bit her lip. His clothes were streaked with soot and his face was beginning to shadow with beard, but he’d never looked more wonderful…
Reaching into a top cupboard, she got down a bottle of Scotch and poured them each a measure, her fingers suddenly clumsy. She flicked a questioning glance at Riley. ‘Do you want ice?’
‘Just water’s fine. You won’t be nervous here on your own tonight, will you?’ he asked, as she handed him the drink.
Jane blinked. ‘There’s no way this…fellow could connect me with Julie, is there?’
He took a gulp of his drink and stared broodingly at her. ‘If he’s on dope, he’s unpredictable. And against all the odds, he found Julie and her kids, didn’t he?’
Jane paled. ‘Surely the police won’t take long to pick him up? Will they…?’
Riley lifted a shoulder. ‘Let’s hope not.’ Downing the rest of his drink, he placed the glass on the sinktop. ‘I stink of smoke,’ he said ruefully. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll make tracks and throw myself under the shower. That’s if I can get any hot water. It’s been a bit iffy lately. I think there’s something wrong with the pipes.’
Jane caught in a quick breath. ‘You could have a shower here,’ she said, hearing the slight catch in her voice. ‘And I still have some of your clothes—jeans, shirts. Stuff I brought with me…’
‘I’m filthy.’ Riley looked doubtful. ‘I’ll make a hell of a mess in your bathroom.’
‘Use the shower in the laundry, then.’ Jane couldn’t look at him. ‘I make use of it sometimes when I’ve been gardening. There should be soap in there but hang on and I’ll get you a towel.’
Suddenly, almost sickeningly, Jane wondered if she’d set in train events that were heading off into uncharted territory. But she wouldn’t think about that now. She bit her lips together, sifting through the linen cupboard for the larger than average kind of towel he preferred.
‘Here you are.’ She went back
to the kitchen, proffering him the rolled-up bundle.
‘You kept this?’ His eyes narrowed over the battered towelling gown that unravelled in his hand. It was threadbare in places, with a gap in the shoulder seam where the stitching had come apart.
Jane felt a warm tide of colour flood her cheeks and looked down. She couldn’t look at Riley at all but she could sense his puzzled stillness.
‘It seems an age since I wore this.’ His mouth turned down at the corners. ‘I thought you would have chucked it out by now.’
Of course she hadn’t. The dark blue robe was irrevocably connected to the early heady days of their marriage. And of the times he gone off rattling around the kitchen, bringing them funny little snacks in bed, after they’d made love. She swallowed thickly. ‘Well, as you can see, I didn’t.’
He merely dipped his dark head, tightening his grip on the sleeve of the robe.
‘I’ll dig out some clothes for you to put on,’ she said abruptly, finding herself all but wringing her hands in confusion.
‘I’ll have that shower, then. I promise I won’t take all the hot water.’ He sent her a contained little grin.
More poignant memories, she thought agonisedly. The night was becoming filled with them. ‘Not to worry. There’s plenty. I had a new system installed when I bought the place.’
‘That practical streak again, Janey?’
‘One of us had to be.’ She was stung by the note of wry amusement in his voice.
His mouth quirked faintly. ‘I was never much good with the practical stuff around the house, was I?’
‘For heaven’s sake,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t marry you because you were good around the house, Riley.’
‘I know…’ He touched the back of his hand to her cheek, a touch so gentle, so unexpected, that she felt her knees go to water. It took every last gram of her will-power to resist the urge to incline her head towards his touch, to prolong it. To extend it into something else entirely.
Mentally projecting that scenario rocked her to the core.
Where on earth had she put his clothes? She stood at the end of the bed, her hands locked on the top of her head, trying to think. At last it came to her. They were in the suitcase at the bottom of the built-in wardrobe.