by Cora Seton
His laughter in her ear sparked a wave of revulsion in her. “What’s wrong with giving the neighbors a show?”
“Chris!”
“All right, all right. Don’t get your panties in a wad.” He reached over and flicked the light out, then bumped her over toward the sink with his hip, his hands still worrying her waistband. “Bend over.”
She braced her hands on the edge of the sink, praying Adam would see her signal. Praying their plan would work. She bit back the scream that gathered in her throat as Chris slid his hands under her waistband, tugging her jeans and panties down.
His phone shrilled a strident heavy metal tune. “Goddamn it.”
“Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“I’ve got better things to do right now.” He grabbed the phone from his pocket and tossed it onto the counter to her right. It went quiet. A moment later it shrilled again.
“Just answer the phone! What if it’s Danny?” She knew it wasn’t, but Chris never skipped a message from Danny—his source for all things pharmaceutical.
“Fine. Damn, girl. Anyone would think you didn’t want to get fucked.” Chris let go of her and she turned around, taking the opportunity to zip and button her pants again. Chris noticed and scowled, but with the phone in his hand he could only tug at her waistband angrily. “Hello?”
She heard a woman’s voice on the line and sighed with relief. Turning to look out the window, she caught sight of flames in the neighbor’s yard and had to fight back a smile. Adam had pulled it off. She didn’t know how, but he had.
“Damn it,” Chris said, shoving the phone in his back pocket. “Alma Henderson’s shed’s on fire. It’s caught the back fence and it’s headed our way.”
“Why doesn’t she call the police?” Brynn pretended to just catch sight of the flames. “Oh my God—she’s right! We better go help!”
She ran for the door to the backyard, Chris’s swearing telling her he was hot on her heels. A fence made of vertical boards bordered most of the houses in this neighborhood, built decades ago when the neat, small lots were first laid out. Since then the area had fallen on hard times. Most of the fences were grey with age, their own included. The Henderson’s lot was kitty-corner to theirs, with the Douglas’s right behind them. Flames shot out of Alma’s ancient shed when they reached the back end of their yard. Vern Douglas was aiming his hose at the structure from the adjacent yard, but this far from the house his water pressure was minimal and the stream barely wet the east wall. Chris vaulted the fence into the Douglas’s yard and then vaulted the next one into the Henderson’s. Soon he had another stream of water aimed at the structure.
“Come on, Brynn. Get a move on!” She could hear his voice, but she couldn’t see him.
“I can’t get over.”
More cursing emanated from his direction. “Go around, then.”
She glanced at her watch in the light of the fire. It was past midnight. With any luck, she could stretch this crisis out overnight. After all, Alma would need comforting. She could spend most of the day here tomorrow, too—cleaning up the aftermath.
She backtracked and began a slow jog around the block. She was almost to Alma’s before she heard the sirens. As she approached the house a firetruck pulled into the driveway. Jacob and the others poured out of it, but she noticed Adam came out of Alma’s house to greet them. Like he’d promised Brynn earlier, he had started the fire when he’d seen her kitchen light go out, their pre-arranged signal. Given that it hadn’t spread to any of the fences, he’d done a good job arranging a controlled burn. She had no doubt he had enough equipment hidden away in Alma’s place to handle the blaze if it got out of hand, too.
In the end it was nearly noon the following day before she let herself back into her own home. Alma had kept up a spate of hysterics that lasted into the wee hours, until Brynn had started to wonder if she was in on the scheme or if she actually thought the fire had been real. Chris had wanted to go home after the blaze was put out, disgusted by Alma’s tears and shrieks, and Brynn had feigned helplessness. “I can’t leave her like this.”
“Get home as soon as the old bat settles down.”
She’d shared a small smile with him, as if they were on the same side of this equation. “If she ever calms down.”
He’d begrudged her a chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a mess.”
She shut the door behind her now, hoping against hope that Chris was still sleeping off the previous night’s excitement.
Twelve hours to go and this would all be over.
Chapter Seven
‡
“I don’t suppose you know how that fire started in Alma Henderson’s shed.” Ed laced his hands behind his neck, sat back in his office chair and waited for an answer.
“She asked me to dismantle it for her. Things got out of hand.” Adam didn’t like lying to his chief, but he didn’t have a choice today. Not if he wanted to keep Brynn safe from Chris—and her sister out of jail. He figured any chance he’d have with Brynn would go up in smoke if Netta had to pay for her crime. He still remembered what Brynn had said to him on their one date: “No one can save me.” Brynn had gone it alone all these years and he meant to show her she didn’t have to anymore.
“Out of hand.” Ed cleared his throat. “Arson carries a stiff sentence, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”
“Yep. That’s why it’s a good thing it was an accident.” Alma had played her part well—almost too well. She’d asked him over a month ago to help her take down the shed. Luckily, he hadn’t made it a priority. When he’d told her he might need to set the small building on fire in order to help Brynn, he was surprised how quickly she agreed to go along with it.
“I’ve been watching those two ever since she moved in with the bastard,” she’d said. At his shocked expression, she added, “Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy, Adam. The man deserves the name.”
She was right; Chris did. He was glad he’d managed to give Brynn a reprieve from whatever Chris had planned. He checked his watch.
Ed sighed. “It’s Thursday. I suppose I should expect trouble at the Price’s place today?”
“I hope not.”
“You hope not.”
“That’s right.” Adam stared his boss down.
Ed shook his head. “Just don’t get caught doing whatever the hell it is you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing anything, chief.” He stood up. Prepared to leave.
“Glad to hear it. I’ve got big plans for you.”
“Do they include a vacation to the Bahamas?” He’d always wanted to see the Bahamas.
“Can’t say that they do.”
“Then they’re not big enough.”
“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Netta asked when Brynn answered her cell phone just minutes after she made it home.
“Are you kidding? You can’t call me,” Brynn hissed and edged into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Chris was in the living room waiting for her. She’d told him she needed to freshen up before she joined him there. She knew he wouldn’t wait long.
“But—”
“I’m fine. I just have to get through a few more hours and this will all be over. Sit tight and keep quiet, okay?” She cut the call, and stared at herself in the mirror. Strain had washed out her complexion. Her eyes looked too big for her face. She hadn’t been eating well—hadn’t eaten much at all lately, actually. She couldn’t force anything down when she thought of what Chris wanted to do.
A sudden pounding at the bathroom door made her jump. “Hurry up in there.”
“Be right out.”
His footsteps trailed away. She waited until she knew he’d gone back to the living room before she opened the door.
To her shock, Chris stood directly outside. He grabbed the phone from her hand. “Thought so! Who are you calling, your fireman friend? I’ve got news for you; he’s not going to save you this time!”
Brynn tried to get the phone back but he captured her wrists
in one hand and searched her call history with his other.
“Who the fuck is this?” He clicked on the last call—Netta’s number. Luckily the phone didn’t display her name.
“Stop it!” Brynn kicked him, but he just laughed.
“Bet your boyfriend will be surprised to hear from me.” He tapped the number and held the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
Chris frowned at the female voice who answered. “Who is this?”
“Brynn?”
“Who is this?”
“Don’t answer him!” Brynn screamed. “Hang up!”
Comprehension dawned on Chris’s face. “Netta? Is that you? The arsonist returns, huh?”
Brynn heard Netta gasp. She must have hung up because Chris shook the phone. “Hello? Hello?” He tossed it aside and slammed Brynn against the wall. “This is priceless. She’s here, isn’t she? She’s in town. And you’re still trying to protect her. So what are you going to do, Brynn? Tell me how far you’ll go to keep her safe.” He pushed her down until she knelt before him, her back to the wall. Still holding her wrists above her head, he unzipped his jeans, tugged them down, and lifted himself free. He was hard and ready for her. Brynn turned her head aside. She couldn’t—she just couldn’t—
Her hand slipped free of his grasp. She had no room to pull her arm back and punch him, so she tightened her fingers into a fist and slammed it into his balls from underneath. Chris howled and doubled over in pain. He reached for her as she sprung up and away from him, his fingers tangling in her hair for a second before she pulled free. She grabbed her phone from the floor and dashed out the front door.
And stopped.
She couldn’t let Chris call in the arson. She couldn’t leave.
She turned around and walked back into the house.
Chapter Eight
‡
“Adam? It’s Netta. Chris knows I’m here.”
Adam swore. “Where’s Brynn?”
“At the house. He’s got her—they were shouting.”
“Damn it.” He ran a hand over his face, feeling the stubble already beginning to grow in. He was still on duty; he couldn’t just leave. “I can’t—fuck!”
“Are you at the station?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t go help her, can you?”
“Not unless there’s a fire.”
“I’m on it!”
“No—Netta! Fuck!” But she was gone. He hadn’t meant her to take that as a command. It was one thing for him to start a blaze he knew he could easily contain. It was another thing for an arsonist to set something alight.
“What’s wrong now? Was that Brynn?” Ed appeared at his side.
“No. It was—someone else.”
“Feels like we’re overdue for a fire.” Ed looked at his watch conspicuously.
“Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“You should have just fucked me, huh, Brynn?”
Brynn came to with a pounding headache. She tried to move and groaned when she found she couldn’t. She opened her eyes and saw Chris on his knees checking the knots in the rope he’d wrapped around her wrists. Her ankles were similarly bound. She sat propped against the hall wall, and her vision swum as she tried to lift her head.
The last thing she remembered was walking back into the house. Chris must have been waiting for her. From the pounding in her head, she figured he’d hit her—hard.
“You think you’re so smart, but you’re the dumbest bitch I ever met. You don’t even know a good thing when you’ve got it. You think Adam Carter would give you the time of day? You think any man would? They all know what you are. A dumb, fucking bitch.”
“What’re you doin’?” Her words slurred together and Chris went out of focus. She knew she had to wake up, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself together. Chris laughed.
“I’m putting an end to this. Time to say good-bye, Brynn. I should have thought of this a long time ago.” He stood up, hoisted a red plastic canister and undid the black cover. When he tilted it and splashed the liquid it contained all over her, Brynn realized what it was.
Gasoline.
“Chris.” She blinked until her eyes cleared. “Chris, wait.”
“Too late, baby. Everyone knows you’re a firebug. Everyone knows you’ve got a beef with me, don’t they? When I tell them you tried to kill me, they’ll realize how lucky I was to escape the fire alive. They’ll think you got what was coming to you.”
Brynn began to struggle against her bonds. “You’re crazy.”
“No. I’ll tell you what I am. Horny. And I’m sick to death of living with a frigid bitch. Gotta be some kind of insurance payout when this dump goes up. I’ll find me a new wife. A better one. Maybe your sister.”
Netta. Brynn struggled harder.
“She’s probably halfway here by now, don’t you think? You sisters were always tight. Netta would make a fine new wife.”
His words didn’t make sense, but that didn’t matter. If he was capable of killing her, he wouldn’t balk at hurting her sister. Brynn struggled to stand. Chris watched her, sneering. When she stumbled over her own feet and crashed hard to the wooden floor, landing in a puddle of gasoline, his laughter washed over her. “Good-bye, Brynn. It’s been nice knowing you.”
She watched his feet leave the hallway and turn toward the front of the house. A moment later the door shut. Any second she expected a sheet of flames to travel back along the trail of gas he’d left behind him, but he hadn’t struck a match.
Yet.
Brynn pushed up again and began to inch toward the front door, moving as fast as her bound hands and feet would let her. The stench of gasoline followed her through the kitchen and into the living room until she understood—Chris had drenched everything with it that could burn. How long had he planned this, she wondered wildly as she inched toward the front door. She began to think she could make it—only ten more feet. Had Chris changed his mind? Was that why flames hadn’t swept through the tiny house? A surge of hope swept through her. Maybe he’d only meant to put the fear of God in her. Maybe—
The door swung open and hit the wall behind it with a thud. Chris’s face was twisted with triumph. “I knew she’d come. Didn’t I say she would?” He flung Netta into the house and slammed the door shut again.
“Brynn!” Netta scrambled to her feet, holding her dripping hands out in front of her. “What is that?” She wrinkled her nose. “Brynn, that’s gas—”
Something broke through the front window and smashed against the wooden floor. Netta screamed and dove for Brynn as fire exploded in every direction. A sheet of flames spread to engulf the living room, lapping at the walls and curtains, setting the furniture alight. Another crash sounded at the back of the house and then another. Netta clawed at Brynn, got a grip on her clothing and hauled her to her feet.
“Out the back,” Brynn screamed and Netta half hauled, half dragged her into the kitchen, but the back of the house was engulfed, too. She spun around, but flames roared in every direction. Netta lunged toward the heart of the house. She manhandled Brynn into the tiny bathroom and slammed the door shut behind them. “What are you doing?” Brynn shrieked. “Netta, we’ll never get out.”
The bathroom shared no walls with the exterior of the house, but Netta reached over Brynn’s prone body to turn on the faucet in the tub. “Get in!” She pushed Brynn into the tub, but Brynn knew the gesture was hopeless. With the house burning like an inferno, they’d die of suffocation or worse before it was all over. Still, she didn’t have a better idea. She huddled in the tub with Netta’s arms around her as smoke filled the small room. Netta reached for a towel, wetted it and jammed it under the door, but Brynn knew it was no use.
“I’m sorry I came back too soon,” Netta said. “I didn’t know. I thought I’d gotten away.”
“You almost did.”
“I never dreamed anyone found out, or that Chris was blackmailing you.”
“Of course you didn
’t.”
“I should have come back. I never should have left.”
Tears slipped down Netta’s face as she worked at the ropes binding Brynn, finally undoing the knots at her wrists. When Brynn could move her hands, she turned around and Netta got to work on the knots at her ankles. “I’m going to get you free. We’ll wrap up in wet towels. We’ll make a run for it, and when we’re out of here I’m going to turn myself in.”
“Netta!” But Brynn could feel the heat from the inferno outside their door, and knew it was pointless to argue. If they opened it, they’d be goners for sure.
If they stayed, they’d roast alive.
“I love you.” Netta tugged the rope at her ankles and it finally came free. “Come on. We have to try.”
Brynn staggered to her feet, took the towels Netta grabbed from the cabinets, soaked them in the cold water that now half-filled the tub, then wrapped one around herself and handed the other one back to her sister. Her wrists and ankles stung when water touched them, but she didn’t care. These were the last moments of her life. The last breaths she would take. She wished she could have told Adam how much she’d cared all these years—that the memory of their one kiss was what kept her going.
She wished she could tell him—
Netta reached out to open the door and screamed when she burned her hand on the metal knob. Flames licked up the inside of the door and filled the room with smoke.
There was no way out.
Chapter Nine
‡
The half hour that passed after Netta’s call seemed like an eternity to Adam. When the fire bell clanged it was almost a relief. Ed stuck his head out of his office and shouted, “It’s Brynn—go!” Every member of the department, anticipating the call, leaped to man the engines.
“Holy fuck,” Jacob said and pointed to a glow in the sky long before the fire truck turned on the road leading to Brynn’s house. Adam’s stomach sunk and he leaned forward to peer out the front windshield. Netta had certainly started a blaze.