by Alison Stone
He waited, his chest heaving. No answer. No one in sight. He grabbed the door handle and the ground beneath him shifted.
Lifting a corner of his flannel shirt to cover his mouth, he pulled open the screen door and pushed inside. Thick smoke rolled through the kitchen. A muffled coughing sounded nearby. He moved deeper into the kitchen. Jenny had her arm wrapped around Gram’s waist. “Help,” Jenny coughed out.
Patrick slipped his arm around Gram’s waist. Her head lolled against his chest. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Jenny was following, his eyes searching the smoky haze for any sign of Danielle. Panic tightened his gut. “Where’s Danielle?”
Jenny coughed in her sleeve, her eyes wide with fear. She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
The house moaned and creaked under the intense flames. With one arm firmly around Gram’s waist, he grabbed Jenny’s elbow with his free hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Once he had Gram and Jenny safely outside, Patrick glanced toward the house. Sirens sounded in the distance. Jenny bounced on the balls of her feet, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms. He sat Gram down on the dewy lawn and patted her hand. “You’re going to be okay. The paramedics are on the way. I’m going to get Danielle.”
Gram’s blue eyes widened. Soot marred her nose and mouth. “Help her,” she rasped.
Patrick turned to Jenny. “Where is Danielle?”
Jenny shook her head, tears making tracks down her dirty cheeks. “I ran to her bedroom. Her bed was empty. She wasn’t upstairs.” A shudder coursed through her body.
Patrick’s mind raced with the possibilities. “Where did you last see her?”
“In the kitchen.”
A second explosion sounded, sending Patrick and Jenny reeling back. He landed hard on his backside. Jenny landed next to him with a solid thump.
“You okay?” he asked.
Jenny groaned, her wide eyes reflected the brilliant flames consuming the house. “Find Danielle.”
A fire truck rumbled up the driveway. A firefighter in full gear jumped off the engine before it came to a complete stop and ran toward them. “Is anyone in the house?”
Patrick pushed past him. “Yes, a woman is in there. Danielle is in there.”
The firefighter blocked him. “You can’t go in there, sir. It’s not safe. Let us handle it.”
“I need to find her.” Patrick tried to push past the firefighter. Pure adrenaline fueled his forward motion, despite the scorching heat of the flames beating him back.
“Sir, you need to stay out here.” The firefighter grabbed Patrick’s arm and pulled him back. “I can’t let you go in there. And the more you fight me on this, the more time you’re wasting.”
Patrick’s shoulders slumped. He nodded to the firefighter and bowed his head. Bending at the waist, he drew in a shaky breath. His jittery legs gave way and he dropped to his knees.
Dear Lord, please keep Danielle safe. Guide the firefighters to her and bring her out safely.
Danielle’s mouth felt parched. The hard floor under her swayed. She lifted a hand to her pounding head. Her mind swirled with myriad clips, memories. The explosion. The fire. The calloused hand pressing her upper lip to her teeth. She ran a finger against her swollen lip.
Then darkness.
The haziness began to drift away. The flames. Her family. Danielle stifled a sob and pushed up on her elbow. Pain shot through her head. A wave of nausea rolled over her. She blinked her eyes and barely made out the shapes in the dark.
The scent of algae reached her nose. A subtle ding, ding floated in from the not-too-far distance. The rocking motion. Why was she on a boat? Maneuvering to her knees, she swallowed back the nausea and rubbed her pounding head. Getting her bearings, she pushed to her feet and stalked toward the door. Moonlight streamed in through a narrow window. She held her breath as she wrapped her fingers around the door handle. Her heartbeat in her ears was deafening. Locked. The door was locked. Her eyes scanned the room. No other way out.
She rested her back against the door and slid down. Threading her fingers through her hair, she tipped her face upward and pressed her eyes closed. Dear Lord, I know I haven’t exactly made You a part of my life. But I need You. Please, please, please, I beg You. Please let Ava, Jenny and Gram be okay. She gave her head a quick shake to dismiss the image of the fire, then immediately regretted it. Her nausea welled up. I haven’t always shown it, but I love my family. I need them. She squeezed her hands together. And I need You. Please help me.
From across the room, a shadow moaned, a deep, gruff moan that vibrated through her. She pushed her feet against the floor but failed to gain traction. Her pulse roared in her head. She had nowhere to go.
Her fear morphed into concern. Was someone else hurt? “Who’s there?” she whispered.
A male voice cursed. “What the…I’m going to kill that…” He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear. The figure seemed to be struggling.
The faint familiarity of the voice seeped into her brain. “Billy? Billy Farr?”
“It ain’t the Easter Bunny.”
She crawled over to him, noticing his hands and feet were bound. She stopped short of his reach. “How’d you end up here? I thought you were in the holding center.”
Billy moved his eyes toward the door. “Lucky me. I escaped.” His tone was droll.
Danielle’s pulse ticked up a notch. She scrambled away. “You escaped?” she asked. Alarm bells sounded in her head.
Billy pushed up on his elbow, but his bound hands sent him crashing back to the floor. “Stop your yapping and cut the tape off my hands before the crazy son of a gun gets back here.”
Danielle rocked back on her heels. Her body froze with indecision. Billy’s snarl when he’d threatened Ava at the fall festival flashed through her mind. She bit her lower lip, her mind reeling. Instinctively, she searched the dark room for any sign of something to free his hands. Should she?
“You threatened Ava at the fall festival.”
“I wanted your boyfriend to back off. I knew the police department was gunning for me.” He shook his head. “Okay, I’m not exactly a boy scout, but I’m not a killer either. And I never hurt your sister.”
Pinching her lips together, she couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Billy’s upper lip curled, then his expression relaxed. “You’re a smart girl. If I’m the bad guy, what am I doing on this rock-hard floor of my own boat? Stop overthinking and cut the duct tape off my hands.”
Danielle pushed to her feet but stayed crouched. She moved toward the opposite side of the room.
“There should be a pair of scissors in the top drawer of the desk,” Billy said.
Danielle glanced over her shoulder and gave him a pointed look, but realized it was probably lost on him in the darkened room.
“I told you. This is my boat.”
Danielle opened and closed three drawers before finding what she was looking for. She knelt next to Billy and worked on the duct tape on his hands. “You better hurry, speedy,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. She cut through the last bit of material and Billy rolled to a sitting position. He rubbed his wrists and glanced back toward the door.
“Hurry.” He yanked the scissors from her hand, causing her to fall on her backside. He glared at her. A silver moonbeam reflected on the metal shears. Sucking in a breath, fear chilled her flesh. A wicked grin flashed on his face. “You are such a prima donna.” He lowered the scissors to work at the reams of duct tape binding his feet. “If you want to get out of here alive, you’re going to have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” The expression “between a rock and a hard place” came to mind.
“For all your fancy education, you’re missing the obvious.”
“Which is…?” Her mind swirled. She wasn’t able to focus. For all she knew, she had lost her Gram and her sister tonight. Exhaling slowly, she willed her nerves to
calm down before panic consumed her.
Billy leaned in close, his face inches from hers. Moonlight glinted in his eyes. “Parker plans to kill us both and make it look like I did it.”
“Parker?” Jimmy? Horror squeezed her heart. “How do you…?” Her voice cracked. “Why?”
Her stomach lurched. Patrick’s handsome face floated into her mind’s eye. And what about sweet Ava? If Danielle died, the child would be… Danielle shook her head. She had to focus. Get out of this mess.
Billy lowered the scissor’s blades to the tape. He lifted his face to stare into hers. “He obviously has something to hide. Something that you must already know.” His nicotine breath whispered across her mouth. “Something he’s hoping to pin on me.”
Danielle shook her head. “I don’t know anything.” She touched her aching head. Dried blood matted her hair to her scalp in spots. “But he…” the images of tonight swirled in her head, “…he firebombed my house. He wanted to kill Jenny.”
After he had failed the first time.
Patrick tapped the back of the ambulance. Jenny and Gram were safely inside. The driver took the signal and eased down the gravel driveway. Patrick had insisted they be taken to the hospital for observation. He ran a hand across the back of his gritty neck, steeling himself for whatever came next.
He turned and watched the firefighters drench the remaining hot spots. Tension twisted his gut. What if he lost Danielle too? He pushed the thought back. He refused to go there.
He paced the width of the driveway, never taking his eyes from the house. The heavy flames had been extinguished, but an acrid smoke choked the air. Black marred the white siding around every window. Two firefighters searched inside the charred house for any sign of survivors. Any sign of Danielle.
Patrick clenched his hands into fists. He could only remember one other time he’d felt this helpless. When he was stationed in Iraq and his commanding officer had told him Lisa was in a coma. A world away, there was nothing he could do.
Like now.
He paced back and forth, trying to expend some of his nervous energy. One of his fellow officers approached him. “Can’t locate the chief.”
“I can’t deal with that now.” Patrick waved the young officer away.
“We got another problem, sir.” The new recruit seemed hesitant to speak up.
“Spit it out.”
“Billy Farr escaped.”
A cold chill ran down his spine, even as the heat from the smoldering fire coated his skin in a thin sheen of sweat. He fisted his hands and wanted to punch something. “When?”
“Sometime after dinner.” The young officer wrung his hands in front of him. “We think he jammed something into the lock to prevent it from latching.”
“Where was the officer on duty?” The man didn’t answer. “Was it you?”
He nodded. “Chief Parker came by. Told me to take my lunch.” He tipped his chin up, his jaw squared. “It was my job to make sure the cells were secure before I left.”
“The chief was gone when you came back?”
“Yes, sir. It’s not unusual to leave the prisoners in their cells. We have video surveillance.”
Patrick’s pulse roared in his head. “And you checked the video?”
The officer plowed his hand through his hair. “Yes, sir. It’s missing. I tried to call Chief Parker, but I can’t reach him.” The officer lifted his brows. “Um, sir?”
“Spit it out.” Patrick’s eyes scanned the charred house, terror slicing through him. Billy Farr was out for revenge. Patrick had no time for idle chitchat.
“I’m not one for gossip, sir, but when I contacted the tech about the missing video, he told me about the messages on Jenny Carson’s cell phone.”
Spinning around to face the young recruit, the world seemed to move in slow motion. “What messages?”
The recruit took off his hat and scratched his head, as if regretting his decision to speak up. “The technician said he found over fifty messages on Jenny’s cell phone the night she was hurt. The messages grew increasingly angry when she obviously didn’t reply.”
“Who were they from?” Patrick narrowed his gaze, his full attention now placed squarely on the young man.
“Jimmy Parker. I think he thought Jenny was out cheating on him.”
Patrick briefly closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Had Jimmy beaten up Jenny in a jealous rage? A lump clogged his throat. Had they pursued the wrong man? A cold chill ran down his spine. Did the chief—Jimmy’s father—know and cover it up?
“All clear.” The firefighter’s booming voice cut through his thoughts. The firefighter lifted his shoulders and let the Air-Pak slip off his back.
Patrick approached the firefighter. “No one was in the house?” His need for confirmation nearly choked him.
The firefighter took a long swig of water, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No. The house was empty.”
His legs weak, Patrick lowered himself onto the bumper of the fire truck. “Are you sure?”
“We did an exhaustive search. There are no victims in the house.”
A mix of relief and new fear threaded through him. Where was Danielle?
And where was Jimmy?
“You’re rather chatty.”
Danielle snapped her head around to find Chief Parker at the door. Her heart jackhammered against her ribcage. Parker. Chief Parker. Not Jimmy. Her head hurt too much to decipher what any of this meant.
“Now move.” Chief Parker had his gun drawn. In one fluid motion, he descended on Danielle and pushed her to the side. Billy lifted his hand with the scissors.
“Drop the scissors or I’ll put a bullet in your head.”
“Go ahead. You’re going to do it anyway.” Billy’s casual tone sent a chill down her spine.
Chief Parker hitched a shoulder and the corners of his mouth pulled down. “True. But I’m doing it on my terms. Now drop the scissors before I put a bullet through Miss Carson here.”
The scissors dropped with a loud clatter against the wood floor. Danielle’s breath came out in a rush.
Chief Parker’s harsh chuckle scraped across her nerves, sending goose bumps across the back of her neck. He tipped his chin toward Danielle. “You didn’t know if he’d do it, did you? You thought I was going to have to shoot you. Sometimes you just don’t know who you can trust.”
With the palm of his hand to her head, Patrick’s boss pushed Danielle to the side. Her hand did little to soften the blow as her shoulder and then hip slammed against the wall. She glanced over her shoulder to see Chief Parker press the gun against Billy’s head. “Grab the rope and tie up Danielle.”
Billy clenched his jaw, seeming to weigh his options.
“Do it or I’ll blow a hole through her head.” Chief Parker pressed a rope into Billy’s chest.
Billy shook his head and snatched the rope from Chief Parker. With a surprisingly gentle hand, Billy touched Danielle’s shoulder. “Sit down.”
Their eyes met and she searched his. She had to trust him. Lifting her chin, she slid down to the floor and allowed Billy to tie her hands. Then her feet. What choice did she have? Chief Parker held a gun inches from her head. Her brain struggled to reconcile the man’s position of authority with his actions. She closed her eyes and thought of Patrick. And poor sweet Ava. She was hardly a mother to the child, but hadn’t Ava already lost so much?
Her breaths grew shallow as Billy worked on her feet. The familiar surge of panic licked up her arms, threatening to consume her.
Talk to God. Ava’s small voice popped into her head. God is watching out for us. Danielle drew in a shaky breath and said a silent prayer. Dear God, I need You now. Please help me through this journey. I have trust You will deliver me to safety. I have faith.
A long-ago verse floated through her mind—I can do all things through God who strengthens me. She repeated the refrain over and over.
A calmness descended upon her like a warm soft blank
et. She opened her eyes and looked at Billy. He seemed to be trying to telegraph something to her with his eyes. She glanced down at her hands and realized the knot was loose. She quickly shifted her hands to hide the fact from Parker.
When Billy was done, Parker jammed his elbow into the side of Danielle’s head and knocked her over. Her body crashed against the wood floor. The wind knocked out of her in a whoosh. She struggled to stay alert.
Parker lifted his gun and brought it down on Billy’s head. The man crumbled to the floor. The crooked cop hitched a shoulder. “Would have been easier on everyone if he had stayed unconscious. Must have a hard head.”
“Wait here.” Parker bent over and shoved his gun into her ribcage. With bound hands and feet, Danielle wasn’t going anywhere soon.
From her position on the floor, she watched as Parker set the gun down on the table. He took up position next to Billy and jammed his hands under Billy’s armpits and pulled. “Man, he weighs a ton.” He flicked his hard eyes toward her. “Dead weight.” His lips pulled back into an ugly snarl. She stifled a gasp. Would this man’s face be the last she ever saw?
A plan formulated in her mind. She had to make him talk. She couldn’t just let him carry out his plan. Whatever it was, she knew it was evil. She had to slow him down. Pray help would come in time.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you are a royal pain. Like every other woman I’ve ever known.” He let Billy Farr drop to the floor. His head bounced off the deck, making Danielle wince.
Parker puckered his lips. “Don’t worry. He didn’t feel that.”
Realization began to dawn. “You were the first police officer on the scene of my sister’s accident.”
Silence stretched between them as she watched conflicting emotions play across his pinched features. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and placed it on the table. “I suppose I have some time to chat.” The phone vibrated. “Your boyfriend’s been trying to call. Oh man…” he rolled his eyes in a huge arc, “…the women in town are going to be swooning over him.”