“Can’t think of anybody offhand, but I’ll let you know if I do.” Dogs made her nervous, to put it mildly. As a child she’d been petrified. The Morgans’ little Quincy had helped her get her fears somewhat under control, but she avoided large dogs if at all possible.
When they pulled up in front of the new homeless shelter a few minutes later, Jenna forced herself to be brave and wait in the car with the dog while Bryn ran in to talk to Susan Marlowe, the shelter’s director.
The dog paced the floor of the car’s backseat from window to window, letting out a low growl. Grateful for the high seat backs that created a barrier between her and the animal, Jenna tensed and grabbed the door handle, poised for a fast escape. “What’s wrong, buddy?” Zach had always told her dogs could sense her fear, but it was impossible to keep her voice from trembling.
She did not like the way this dog was acting. Quincy sometimes yapped, but Sparky was five times the size of the Morgans’ dog and his growl held menace. The Lab stuck his nose out the crack in the window behind her and let out a sharp bark, then pawed at the glass.
“What’s wrong, boy?” she said again. Cautiously she unlatched the door handle. Feeling a little foolish, she slipped out of the car, closing the door behind her. While the dog kept up the racket, she leaned against the fender, trying to think how she would explain her exit from the vehicle.
She was relieved when Bryn pushed through the shelter’s front door carrying a stack of manila envelopes. She must have heard the barking because she took off at a jog toward the car. “Is everything okay?” She eyed Jenna. “What happened?”
Jenna shrugged. “He just … started barking.”
Bryn pushed the dog’s nose back inside the car window and spoke harshly. “Sparky! Hush!” She went around and climbed into the driver’s seat, tossing the envelopes on the console. “Has he been barking the whole time?”
“For a while.”
“He must have seen a squirrel or something.”
“I didn’t see anything.”
Sparky kept it up even when Bryn put the car in gear. “Something’s really bothering him.” She shifted back into Park and got out of the car.
Jenna followed suit.
“I’ve never seen him like this. Except—” A strange look came over Bryn’s face.
“What’s wrong?”
“He got all wound up like this the night of the fire. It was before any of us even smelled smoke, but I’ve always wondered if Sparky tried to warn us.”
Jenna sniffed the afternoon air and smelled only the pungent scent of earth moist from recent rains and leaves decaying on the grass. She looked across the street to where the original shelter had stood. “Do you think he remembers?”
Bryn followed Jenna’s gaze but shook her head. “Surely not after a year. It’s not like there’s anything there now that he’d recognize. But you do hear stories about dogs finding their way home from hundreds of miles away, so maybe he remembers something familiar about this place.”
The burned-out shelter was nothing more than a deep gouge in the lot now. According to Bryn, Susan Marlowe hoped to someday put a park on the property so the children of families staying at the shelter would have someplace to play. Susan was also a widow of the Grove Street fire.
Bryn checked her watch and opened the car door. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to let him run a little bit. He’s been cooped up in the car all morning and he’ll have to be kenneled at the vet. Sorry, I know you’re probably starving.” She gave Jenna an apologetic look.
“No, it’s fine.” Jenna shrugged, not excited about the idea, but feeling at Bryn’s mercy since it was her dog and her car. “Lunch will taste that much better when we finally get there.”
Bryn clicked her tongue and Sparky shot across the shelter’s patchy lawn, then quickly changed direction, darted around the side of the building, and disappeared.
“Sparky!” Bryn shouted and took off after him.
Jenna followed, not thrilled at the turn this day was taking. She picked her way through the tangle of weeds behind the building, trying to stay on the path Bryn had tromped down. Even as she followed, she plotted a route of escape in case Sparky headed her way. Not that she could outrun him.
The dog was digging in a pile of rubble behind the building. Bryn crouched near him and when she rose, she held up what looked like a soggy white handkerchief. “Come on, Sparky. Come!”
He ignored her and she finally dragged him by the collar with her free hand, still holding the rag in her other. When she got closer, Jenna saw that the rag protruded from a plastic water bottle with an inch or two of amber liquid in the bottom.
“What is that?”
Bryn sniffed the bottle gingerly, wrinkling her nose. “It smells like gasoline. Sparky went straight for it.”
Jenna started back for the car, keeping plenty of distance between her and the dog.
Sparky fought against Bryn all the way back to the car. “I don’t know what his problem is,” she growled, manhandling him into the backseat again. But instead of going around to the driver’s side, Bryn held up her find. “I think Susan needs to see this. I’ll be right back. …”
“I’ll come with you.” No way was she going to be left alone with that dog again.
She followed Bryn to the front entrance. The door was locked, but Bryn pounded loudly, then peered through the glass door.
A few seconds later they heard keys rattling and Susan opened the door. She looked past Bryn. “Jenna! I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Not since Bryn’s sentencing, probably. “Hi, Susan.”
“Bryn said you two were having lunch.” She turned to Bryn, then noticed the bottle she carried and furrowed her forehead. “What’s that?”
Bryn explained how Sparky had dug it up from behind the building. “It smells like gas. I don’t know if somebody was cleaning paintbrushes or what, but it seemed a little dangerous to have it lying around. I could just imagine one of the guys going out for a smoke and …”
Susan winced at the suggestion. “Nobody’s been painting for a couple of weeks.” She took the rag from Bryn and sniffed, then made a face.
“Sparky went straight for it.”
“Show me where you found it.”
Susan led them inside, where Bryn took the lead, walking through a large dayroom furnished with a mismatched collection of sofas and recliners. She pushed open a back door by the kitchen and pointed out the spot where she’d discovered the odd find.
“Maybe the crew that mowed the lawn left it?”
Susan rolled her eyes. “As you can see they never got around to mowing the place last summer.” She took the bottle from Bryn, who sniffed her fingers, then bent to wipe her hands off in the dry grass.
“I think maybe I should show this to Pete,” Susan said. “After everything that’s happened I don’t want to take any chances—” She stopped short and her face turned crimson. “I’m sorry, Bryn. I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s okay. I think you should report it. It seems pretty suspicious.”
Susan seemed relieved that Bryn wasn’t offended by her remark. She quickly changed the subject and led them back to the front door. “Thanks for letting me know about this. You guys have a great lunch.”
“Thanks,” they said in unison.
Back in the car Sparky had calmed down, but Jenna gave an inward sigh of relief when they dropped him off at the vet a few minutes later.
By one o’clock she and Bryn were enjoying fragrant cream of potato soup in bread bowls at the new deli downtown, but Jenna couldn’t seem to put all her worrisome thoughts aside and simply enjoy the afternoon with her friend.
She took a risk with Lucas because at least he understood what the fire had cost …
5
Monday, November 10
Jenna, it’s Maggie. Sorry to bother you on such short notice, but I have a couple here who’d like to look at the house.”
“Hey, don’t apologize for doi
ng your job.” Jenna tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder and started loading breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be out of here.”
Thank goodness she’d cleaned up the kitchen after baking this morning, and the house was perfumed with the scent of homemade blueberry muffins.
“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I think your house might be just what they’re looking for.”
“Let’s hope so.” She put more conviction behind the words than she felt. Not that she had any other option but to sell her house, but she’d spent the weekend mourning the nicest home she’d ever lived in—and trying to imagine what it would be like living with Bill and Clarissa. The Morgans’ house was twice the size and ten times as fancy as this one, but she was starting to have second thoughts about losing her freedom.
Maybe she should take Bryn’s lukewarm reaction when she’d heard Jenna was moving in with Zach’s parents to heart. Not that she’d come right out and said she thought it was a bad idea, but Jenna could read the skepticism in her friend’s expression. What choice did she have, though? It would only be for a while. Until she could find a job and a place of her own.
She finished straightening the house—an easy task since she’d cleaned top to bottom before it went on the market last week—then grabbed her purse and car keys. Maggie Preston had shown the house only once before today, but she assured Jenna things would pick up once the listing appeared in the Courier.
Winding her way down her street, she met Maggie’s car and they waved. Maggie had promised to call her cell with the all clear when she was done. Jenna decided to drive through for coffee and maybe pick up a sandwich to take home for later. Surely it couldn’t take that long to show the house. She’d probably only have to kill an hour.
There were four cars in line at the drive-through at Java Joint. It would be quicker to go in. She could find a cozy chair and wait for Maggie’s call. She parked the car and went inside.
There were half a dozen people seated inside, and two women in line ahead of her. A lone barista was trying to handle both the counter and the drive-through traffic, and from the look of things she wasn’t having much success. Jenna inhaled the wonderful fresh-brewed coffee aroma and lopped her jacket over a comfy armchair in the corner to reserve a place.
She was paying for her latte a few minutes later when she heard a familiar voice.
She turned to see Lucas Vermontez coming through the door. Zach’s buddy walked with a pronounced limp, and with aid of a cane, but Jenna was surprised he was on his feet at all. He’d been in a wheelchair the last time she’d seen him. And in the throes of depression. At least, that was what the Hanover Falls grapevine rumored.
Almost a year ago.
Lucas had been one of Zach’s best friends at the firehouse. He was the only survivor of the crew who’d gone inside the homeless shelter the night of the fire. Lucas’s father, the captain of Station 2, had died in the blaze that night, too. Jenna had met Manny, but hadn’t known him well. He was one of Zach’s bosses when he and Lucas were rookies in the same training class.
Lucas had hung out at their house sometimes for Monday night football and pizza—when the guys weren’t pulling a shift. And he’d helped Zach hang Sheetrock the year they finished out the basement family room. Jenna felt as if she knew him better than she really did because Zach talked about him so much. Zach practically idolized Lucas—the way he would have a big brother—even though she thought Lucas was a few years younger.
Lucas seemed thinner than she remembered. His Cuban heritage was evident in his jet-black hair and olive skin, and it was good to see him smiling. She noticed his entrance turned more than a few female heads in the coffee shop, and it wasn’t because of his shuffling gait or the cane. Yet he seemed oblivious to the female eyes following him.
She was tempted to pretend she didn’t recognize him. What if he didn’t recognize her? There was talk that he might have suffered a degree of brain damage.
But he seemed like his old self, greeting strangers with a friendly nod and grinning at the toddler perched in a highchair at a table by the door. She didn’t want to be rude, so she picked up her order from the counter, gathered her courage, and wove her way between tables.
She caught his eye. “Lucas?” She held out a hand. “I don’t know if you remember me …”
His eyes lit. “Jenna!” He switched his cane to his other side and shook her hand firmly. “Of course I remember. Good to see you again.”
He sported the same crooked smile she remembered—as if he were about to burst out laughing—but the smile didn’t quite make it to his dark eyes.
Nodding at his cane, she brightened. “You’re getting around a lot better than the last time I saw you.”
He shrugged and dipped his head, and Jenna wondered if he remembered that the last time they’d come face-to-face was just a few weeks after the funerals—which Lucas had missed because he was still in the hospital.
“Well … I’m glad to see you back on your feet.” She cast around, looking in vain for a graceful exit. The line at the counter had grown longer while they exchanged greetings, and she grabbed at the excuse. “Sorry … I’ve made you lose your place in line.”
“Not a problem. I’m in no hurry. Just … killing time.” He glanced around the sunny room where tables were quickly filling up. “Are you staying? Would you mind sharing a table?”
“Oh …” She glanced toward her chair in the sunny corner near a book-lined wall. “I’m over there. In that chair. It doesn’t look like—”
“Help yourself.” An elderly man in the chair adjacent to hers apparently overheard. He rose slowly, plopping a worn fedora on his head. “I was just leaving.”
“Are you sure?” She wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but she could hardly say that to Lucas.
“Absolutely.” The man winked and tipped his hat. “You kids enjoy.”
Settling in the chair, she moved her jacket to reserve the other spot for Lucas while he ordered. She scrambled to think of something they could talk about that didn’t involve the fire.
He carried his coffee over and set it on the wide windowsill behind their chairs, then used his cane to lower himself into the low-slung chair.
Leaning the cane carefully against a nearby bookcase, he let out a sigh and gave her a sheepish grin. Pushing his forearms against the chair’s armrests, he joked, “I may need a crane to get out of this chair when it’s time to leave.”
She glanced around, then felt silly, realizing she must look as if she were searching for a crane in some hidden corner of Java Joint. “Uh … we’ll figure something out.”
Lucas didn’t seem to notice. He took a sip of his coffee, then searched her eyes. “So how are you doing?”
She was never sure what people expected when they asked that question. In the first weeks after Zach’s death, there was no doubt they were referring to her loss. But now that the first anniversary of the tragedy had passed, she never knew whether to answer the question in relation to Zach and the fire, or in relation to her “new normal.”
She took a risk with Lucas because at least he understood what the fire had cost the community, even if he didn’t know her own pain. “I’m hanging in there. How about you? How is your mom?”
A shadow darkened his countenance. “She’s doing well. Moving on.”
“Moving on? As in … literally moving?”
“It looks that way. It’s not public knowledge yet, so don’t say anything, but she’s … I think she’s getting married.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Too late, she saw in his eyes that he didn’t agree. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that isn’t easy for you.”
He shrugged. “She’s happy. She wasn’t for so long, I really can’t begrudge her this.”
“I hope she’s not moving too far away.”
“Just to Springfield. That’s where Geoff lives. Geoff Morrison.”
“Well, tell Emily I’ve been
thinking about her.” She looked at her lap. “You too. I’m glad to see you’re doing so well.”
He grunted. “If you can call it that.”
“You were in a wheelchair last time I saw you—with casts up to here.” She drew a line above her knees, then gestured to his cane. “I’d say this is a huge improvement.”
He shrugged. “I’ll consider myself improved when I can get back to work.”
“Any idea when that might be?” She felt as if she was prying, and worried he heard the skepticism in her voice. He didn’t look anywhere near ready to return to the rigors of firefighting.
But he didn’t seem offended. “I really don’t know. Ma just told me a few days ago—about Geoff. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it.”
“I’ll bet.”
He grinned, obviously trying to put her at ease. “Oh well, I’m a big boy. Twenty-seven next month. It’s probably time I was out on my own.”
“Where will you go? Have you looked at apartments yet? I’m going to be looking one of these days, too,” she confessed.
“You’re moving, too?”
She nodded. “Not leaving the Falls, but I can’t afford to keep our house.” It made it seem so real to speak the words aloud. “I’ve got it on the market. Actually, that’s why I’m camped out here. The Realtor’s showing the house right now. I’m a little afraid it’ll sell right away.”
“Maybe you can just move in here.” He winked and pointed toward the counter. “All the coffee you can drink, bathrooms in the back …”
“I’m moving in with Zach’s parents for a while. And I just turned twenty-nine.” She smiled, realizing the irony.
He cocked his head. “Really twenty-nine, or the twenty-nine all women claim after a certain age?”
“No, really twenty-nine.”
He looked skeptical. “And you’ll be thirty on your next birthday? Or twenty-nine again? Just checking.”
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