by Amie Denman
Charlie turned to Karleen, keeping his body between her and the other man.
“Can we go?” the woman whispered to Charlie. “I need to get away from him.”
He offered her a hand. “Ready when you are.”
As Charlie helped his patient out of the house and into the back of the ambulance, he mentally reviewed any rental properties he owned that were empty. He’d do anything it took to help Karleen find a new home. Even though he’d never be half the man his father was, he could try.
CHAPTER FIVE
NICOLE AWOKE TO the sound of sirens. Wailing sirens. She lay awake listening for a moment and then drifted into a dream that was her worst nightmare—a startlingly realistic memory of her brother.
* * *
TALL, HANDSOME ADAM. He was blond and green-eyed like her and had the gift of long limbs and broad shoulders. The last time she saw him, he was boarding a plane in Indianapolis to go out West for his summer job with the forestry service. He already wore the T-shirt with the fire insignia on the front and one large word on the back: FIRE.
In the dream, he smiled and waved to her and her parents as they stood in the area just before the airport security line. They watched him navigate bag check, walk through the metal detector and head off to fight flames and save lives. He turned and smiled at her one last time.
* * *
NICOLE AWOKE AGAIN, sweat drenching her nightshirt. She had never seen him alive again.
The sound of noise in the kitchen, clanging pots, metal on metal, had awakened her this time. She pulled on a thin robe and headed toward the clamor.
Claudette lay curled on a kitchen chair, watching Jane pour coffee into a large thermos. The tabby cat kept one sleepy eye open, and Jane herself was wide awake and zipping around her small kitchen.
“Sorry to wake you up,” Jane said. She screwed the lid on the thermos and filled another, smaller carafe.
“You’re making coffee at one in the morning?” Nicole asked. Her dream still made her feel disoriented, almost as if someone was going to knock on the door and deliver the news that was every family’s nightmare.
“Fire down the street, and it looks like they’ll be there awhile.” Jane opened the cabinet over the sink and pulled out two sleeves of disposable white cups. “I’m taking the guys coffee.”
Jane was already dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Although it was early May, the nights on the Virginia coast were still chilly.
“Can I help?” Nicole asked.
“Spare blankets. I keep them in the closet outside the bathroom, bottom shelf. Would you grab three or four? And you could throw on some clothes if you want to help carry this stuff.”
Jane flipped the switch to brew another pot. She glanced up and met Nicole’s eyes. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”
Nicole hesitated. She wanted to help. But her dream was still so raw, her damp nightshirt clinging to her and chilling her. She swallowed and steadied her breathing. “I’ll get dressed and grab the blankets,” she said.
Claudette followed her down the hall, winding between her legs and apparently hoping for something interesting to happen. Nicole dressed quickly in jeans and a sweatshirt, slipped into sneakers, and went to the linen closet. She wanted to hurry, but her legs were lead. The door creaked in the nighttime silence and she pulled the chain to turn on the bulb in the closet. Claudette crept stealthily inside, her tail twitching. A stack of industrial-looking rough blankets were on the lower shelf. Nicole pulled out four of them, toed the cat out of the closet, turned off the light and closed the door.
She gathered the blankets in her arms and steeled herself. She was going to a fire in the middle of the night. There would be firefighters, flashing lights, danger. Was anyone hurt? She nearly lost her nerve, but she took solace in the fact that Jane would be there with her. It would be okay. Starting over in a new place meant she had to face the things that were holding her back. But she wasn’t sure she could.
As they went through the front door, Jane lugging the big thermos and cups and Nicole holding blankets, they saw the flashing lights and spotlights of the fire scene only eight houses down the street.
The house on fire was a large one, a storybook house with fancy trim and detailed paint. White with rose, sage and soft gold accents. She’d snapped a photo of it two days ago when she took an evening walk with her camera slung over her shoulder.
Fire trucks with hoses snaking from hydrants robbed the house of its fairy-tale quality. Neighbors gathered, their faces red and white in the flashing lights. Jane walked quickly, but Nicole lagged a few steps behind. Lights were on in houses they passed even though it was the middle of the night. It appeared the whole neighborhood had beaten them to the scene.
But Nicole and Jane had an advantage. They had coffee and blankets.
A small group of people wearing bathrobes and sweatshirts, clothing disheveled and untucked, gathered just outside the fire scene. Nicole stopped, but Jane stepped over a hose and walked right up to a firefighter in full gear. A reflective stripe defined the bottom of his heavy yellow coat. The word Zimmerman flashed in reflective letters across his back. Jane put her thermos on the truck’s silver running board and waited next to Charlie while he listened to a radio pressed against his ear and adjusted gauges on the massive pump on the side of the truck.
Nicole felt like she was in a war zone. She didn’t follow Jane, hanging back and mutely holding on to the blankets. How could Jane be so brave? Not only had she marched up to the scene, but she was talking with the father of her baby. Putting other people’s problems before her own—that was the source of Jane’s bravery.
“Can I borrow those?” A police officer, an older man whom Nicole recognized as the officer who wrote the report on her car, stood at her elbow. “The family would sure appreciate it.”
He took two blankets off the top and cocked his head, indicating she should follow him. She wanted to help, wanted to offer comfort to people whose house had windows broken out, charred furniture on the lawn, smoke seething from the upper floors. She took a breath and followed the police officer, resolving to be strong. Her brother would be in there fighting the fire.
If he were here.
If he were alive.
“Here you go,” the police officer said. He handed a blanket to a woman wearing a nightgown and a man’s coat that was much too large for her. She wrapped the blanket around a little girl and tucked in the folds in front. The girl sat down, the long tails of the blanket spreading around her as if she were on a picnic.
A firefighter came over. Kevin Ruggles. “Any accelerants in the garage or basement? Gas cans, propane tanks, anything like that?”
The little girl’s father shook his head. “No gas cans. We have a lawn service. Nothing else like that.”
Kevin nodded, his helmet bobbing. He pushed his helmet up and nodded to Nicole.
“Thanks,” he said. He turned and trudged back to the front porch where a man in a red helmet was giving orders.
The little girl got up and followed him, her blanket dragging on the ground. Her parents didn’t notice, but Nicole did. She waited, watching. The girl wasn’t in danger. Kevin was talking with the man who appeared to be in charge of the fire scene, and the worst seemed to be over. The girl pulled on the edge of Kevin’s coat and looked up at him. He leaned down and put his ear as close to her as he could manage with his helmet on, listening and nodding. Then he turned the girl around by her shoulders and pointed at her parents.
“Where did you go?” the mother asked, panic and despair in her voice as her daughter approached. “I told you to stay close by, honey. It’s dangerous.”
“I was asking him to look for Eddie,” she said, and started to cry. “I can’t find him. What if he died in the fire?”
The parents exchanged pained looks.
Oh, God, Nicole t
hought. Who is Eddie? Her brother? She felt tears stinging her eyes as she relived the pain of losing Adam.
“He was sleeping on my bed when the smoke alarm woke me up,” the girl continued.
“Maybe he followed us out,” her father said, putting an arm around his daughter. “He can see really well in the dark.”
Nicole let out the breath she was holding. Okay, we’re obviously talking about a pet. Breathe.
“I asked the fireman to look for him and he promised he would,” the child continued.
“I’m sure he will, baby,” her father said.
“I’ll help you look,” Nicole offered. “Is Eddie a dog or a cat?”
“Cat,” the girl said.
“Maybe he followed you, just like your dad said. We could stay out of the way and look around together.”
Nicole had no idea why she was insisting on searching for a cat that probably perished in the fire. But in a way, she understood the girl’s grief. Knew what it was like to hope someone or something you loved had somehow survived against the odds.
“I’m Nicole,” she told the girl’s parents. “I’m staying with my friend Jane who owns the art gallery in town.”
“We know Jane,” the mom said. To her daughter, she said, “If you stay far away from the firemen and the trucks, you can go with this nice lady and look around.” Her face softened. “Maybe he climbed a tree to hide and he’s just waiting for you to come get him.”
Nicole took the girl’s hand. “What color is your cat?”
“Black. He’s all black.”
Great. Looking for a panicked black cat that may or may not even be alive. In the darkness. At least it was better than watching the firefighters systematically carry out smoldering furniture and other belongings. Anything was better than that.
“I’m Julia,” the girl said, her voice small. Her dark hair fell around her face and she looked tiny under the rough blanket. “Do you think we’ll find Eddie?”
“Yes,” Nicole said, trying to sound convincing. “He could be sound asleep in the mailbox.”
“Or my sandbox.”
“I’ll bet you’re right. We’ll check those places and then start looking under plants and in trees. Is Eddie a good climber?”
Julia wrinkled her forehead. “He never goes out of the house. He usually sleeps all day unless I’m playing with him.”
“So,” Nicole said. “He’s a beginner climber. That’s good. He won’t be too far up. But we’re going to need a flashlight.”
Nicole took the child’s hand and approached Kevin, who was now digging through a cabinet on the side of one of the fire trucks.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Do you have a flashlight in there we can borrow?”
At the sight of Nicole and the little girl, his brows came together in a skeptical look. “What are you planning to do with it? You can’t go in the house.”
“I’m not a fool,” Nicole said. “We’re looking for Eddie.”
Kevin glanced at the little girl. “The cat?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” Julia said. “Nicole is helping me find him. We’re looking in the mailbox and up in the trees.”
Kevin smiled. “That’s really nice of Nicole, and I’m sure you’ll find him. He’s probably just scared. Fires are scary.”
He took a flashlight from the large front pocket of his heavy coat and handed it to Nicole.
“I’ll bring it back,” she said.
“I know where to find you,” he replied, smiling at her and holding eye contact as if he wanted to emphasize that they were on the same side.
“Thank you,” Nicole said. She took the child’s hand and they crept around the edge of the property, checking every hiding place they could find on the lawn. Trying to ignore the damp, smoky smell of the fire, she swept the flashlight into trees, under shrubs and beneath the swing set. Nicole smiled encouragingly at the little girl even though it seemed hopeless.
One set of searchlights went off. A fire truck left, and neighbors went home. It had to be two in the morning at least, but there was no sign of Eddie. Nicole felt tears of frustration, exhaustion and something she didn’t want to think about well in her eyes. Julia’s mother found them in the backyard and claimed her daughter’s hand. “Sorry we didn’t find Eddie tonight,” Nicole told the girl, “but I’m sure he’ll come back tomorrow.”
“We’re staying with my sister across town,” the mother said. “If you happen to see a lonely black cat around, here’s her number.”
Nicole took the scrap of paper and promised to keep an eye out. She watched the family climb wearily into an SUV with only the clothes and blankets on their backs. The fire chief and another firefighter put up yellow caution tape across the doors.
Nicole still had the flashlight and most of the trucks had left, so she approached the man in the red helmet. “Please give this to Kevin Ruggles,” she said, her voice faint with disappointment and unshed tears.
“He’s right here,” the chief said, handing the light over Nicole’s head to a man behind her. She turned and faced him.
Although he was covered in black grime, the light from the remaining fire truck illuminated his smile. “Did you find the cat?” he asked.
She shook her head, not wanting to talk about the cat or anything else related to the fire.
“Hope he didn’t die,” Kevin said, “but I’m afraid it’s pretty likely. Animals tend to hide and the flames go right over them.”
Nicole thought her heart would explode. Her brother, when he realized he couldn’t outrun the forest fire, had hunkered down with his partners under fire-resistant blankets. Two of his partners survived, although seriously burned. Adam did not. He was lying under the blanket when they found him.
She couldn’t help it. Tears ran down her cheeks and a sob choked her.
“Hey,” Kevin said, touching her arm. “Sorry. I didn’t think you knew the...uh...cat.”
Jane appeared out of the darkness. “Ready to go home?” she asked.
Nicole nodded, unable to speak. Kevin took off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair. “I think we’re all ready for this night to be over,” he said.
Jane glanced at Nicole and she knew her teary face must look a mess.
“Okay, Nikki?”
In answer, Nicole turned and headed toward the street. She heard Jane murmur something to Kevin and then her friend was at her side, arm around her, as they trudged home.
* * *
KEVIN AND THE chief were the last two on scene, finishing cleanup for the time being. There would be plenty to do tomorrow when the fire and insurance inspectors showed up.
“Call it a night,” the chief said.
Kevin tossed the flashlight Nicole had returned to him into the side compartment of the truck. It bounced against the back of the bin and rolled out, falling on the ground and rolling under the truck.
“Dangit,” Kevin said, dropping to his knees to look for it. The flashlight was hidden in the grass, but he saw something else under the truck. A black blob. The black blob moved and light reflected off a pair of eyes.
“Hey, buddy. You must be Eddie.”
He ducked low and reached for the cat, but the frightened animal recoiled and slunk farther back.
“Don’t make this hard on me, cat.”
He extended his arm slowly toward the animal and then made a quick lunge, grabbing the cat before he could run away, but whacking his head on the running board of the truck at the same time. He held the cat in one hand and got up. Tucking the cat inside his coat, he glanced down the street toward Jane’s house. It had only been a half hour since the women left. Could they still be awake?
“Got everything?” the chief said.
“Yup. And I think I found the homeowners’ cat under the truck.”
“We didn’t run over it, did we?�
� the chief asked. “I hate when we do that.”
“No, he’s alive. Can we stop by Jane’s house on the way back to the station? If she’s still up, I think she can help us with it.”
The chief stared at the lump inside Kevin’s turnout coat. “Didn’t know you were such a cat person,” he said.
Kevin shrugged. “You drive.”
They parked in the street in front of Jane’s house. Lights were still on inside. “Be right back,” he said.
Approaching the front door, Kevin tried to gauge which rooms had lights on. He guessed they were the kitchen and living room. A good sign.
He tapped on the door just loud enough so anyone who was already awake would hear him. A moment later, someone moved a curtain, and the porch light came on overhead. Jane opened the door wide.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
Not what Kevin expected. “Happened?”
“Your head. It’s bleeding. Come in.”
Kevin stepped into the house, keeping one hand on the warm lump inside his coat. He toed the door shut and swiped the other one over his forehead. Blood smeared his grimy hand. “Oh,” he said. “I guess I did that when I was trying to fish the cat out from under the fire truck.”
“You found Eddie?” Jane exclaimed.
Nicole appeared behind Jane wearing only a short pink nightshirt. Her hair was wet and her bare feet and legs under the short edge of the shirt riveted Kevin’s attention. “You found Eddie?” she echoed.
Kevin pulled open the flap of his coat and revealed black fur. “He’s been fighting me under here.” Eddie stuck his head out and hissed.
“Did he claw your head?” Nicole asked, gesturing over Kevin’s eye.
“Nope. That happened while I was trying to catch him. He was hiding under the pumper. He’s fast for a house cat.”
“Poor Eddie,” Nicole said. She approached and reached toward him, her fingers brushing his neck. Her wet blond hair tickled his chin.
He would bring home a wild cat every night of the week for attention like that. But it was over too soon. Nicole unsnapped his coat and pulled out the cat, cuddling him against her chest. His coat flapped open and he wished he could think of a reason for her to reach in again. Her green eyes were darker in the dim light of the entryway. She smelled like shampoo, as if she’d just stepped from a shower to erase the soot and smoke of the night.