Through The Window

by Wendy Campbell

  He wouldn’t know how much the red baseball hat meant to her. It’d been the only spark of light in the nightmare Mick tricked her into as a child, forced her into as a teen. The fact that Jordan gave it to her even after she’d been caught in his bedroom, made that hat the most precious thing she owned, and she wouldn’t leave it behind.

  With a forced casualness, she took the hat off her dresser, put it on and walked out the door with Charm jumping at her heels.

  “Get your ass back here,” Mick yelled.

  She kept right on going.

  “Damn it. We got work to do.”

  She started the engine, but something inside her demanded a final show of defiance so she turned on the overhead light, gave him the finger, and drove off.

  “You’ll pay for this.” His shouts faded as she drove away.

  The numbness started in her belly. She rolled down the window to suck in the cool night air. The wind tossed her hair across her face, but it seemed to match a curious sense of newfound freedom. How long had Mick messed up her life? How long would she let him? With a certainty that came as a surprise, she realized the game was over. His blackmail, his threats, and most of all his ability to ruin Carley’s life, was over.

  Just after nine, Standish answered the door at the fire station and smiled when he saw her. “Change your mind, beautiful?”

  She stared at him, suddenly stricken by the knowledge that Mick was right about one thing. Everyone in the Valley would hate her if they knew the truth. Even Standish. There’d be no more teasing or flirting, just disgust. Tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks.

  “Uh-oh.” Standish let out a bellow for Jordan and immediately disappeared.

  The door at the top of the stairs opened and Jordan jogged down.

  “Hi,” she said, wiping the tears away.

  “What’s wrong?” Strong hands gripped her shoulders, his beautiful eyes showed concern. The thought of him not wanting her was like a knife in the gut. The tears started all over. She wanted to melt into his arms and hide from the world.

  “After I picked up Charm, I went to the cabin. When I opened the door, there was an awful smell and,” she swallowed and told herself this wasn’t a lie, “the biggest rat I’ve ever seen.” Mick could definitely be classified as a rodent. “It got into the garbage, and I just can’t deal with the mess right now. Would you mind if I stayed at your place tonight?”

  “Of course not.” He pulled her into his arms. “I wish I could give you a hand.”

  “You’re working.” It would be okay. She inhaled his spicy scent and knew she had to make everything okay. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” Somehow, she’d do just that.

  “I’ll stop by when I get off work.”

  “Don’t bother.” She pulled away. “I’ll deal with it after my morning meeting. Sorry I dumped on you. It’s been a long day, I guess I needed to vent.”

  “No problem. Give me a call, and I’ll meet you there.”

  She tried to inject her tone with a calm, female confidence she didn’t feel. “I’m a big girl. I can handle a rat. I just prefer to do it in the daylight.”

  “I don’t mind—”

  “I know, but I do. It’s an independence thing. Can you imagine the practical jokes Alex will come up with if he thinks I need help against a stupid rat? It’d haunt me for the rest of my life.”

  “You have a point.” He flicked the bill of her hat with a finger. “Nice hat.”

  Did he remember giving it to her? She couldn’t ask, because if he didn’t, it’d break her heart.

  Before she could figure out what to say, he gave her a smoldering look and kissed her. “I’d prefer to find you in my bed when I get home. Any chance you can reschedule your meetings?”

  “No, but I’ll give you a rain check.”

  A half-hour later, she let herself into Jordan’s house. The casual comfort of his home once again enveloped her, but it would take a while for her nerves to settle. She randomly opened and closed cabinets in the kitchen, not sure what she was looking for until she found hot chocolate. Perfect. After she made a cup, she sat on the deck swing, cradling the warm mug in her hands.

  As her panic faded, she reviewed options, discarded steps, and added new ones until she was relatively sure her plan could work. If it did, tomorrow would be the last time she’d see Mick.

  To keep from rehashing her options all night, she brought in her suitcase and got ready for bed. On Jordan’s dresser sat a large stuffed sheepdog with a purple tag in the shape of a heart. Mel read the words, carefully printed in a child’s handwriting; “Fluffy loves you Uncle Jordan, and so do I. Justine.”

  Mel smiled and put her hat on the dog. Perfect. Now it’d be safe from Mick. She snuggled between the navy and white striped sheets and thought of Jordan. Finally feeling safe, she closed her eyes and slept.

  ****

  After a quick breakfast, Mel put Charm in the backyard and started out the door, pausing when the phone rang. Only Jordan knew where she was, and he’d call on her cell. She touched the outside pocket on her purse to make sure her cellphone was still there and pulled the door closed.

  On the way to the cabin, she rehearsed her plan. The burning fear Mick had fostered now simmered like a glowing ember, and she intended to douse it. Permanently. Taking its place was the strange, icy calm that washed over her yesterday. It was time.

  Mick sat with his elbows propped on the kitchen table, staring into a mug, but it wasn’t coffee she smelled. It was fire, and the sickening, acrid stench that follows it.

  “What did you do?” she demanded.

  “Damn you,” he said with a furious glare. “You couldn’t be bothered to give me a hand for a couple hours. I made you the best, I taught you everything! For what? So you could run off when I needed you, when Sara needed you, you selfish bitch? The money was for her, for the store. Now you’ve ruined everything, but you’ll pay. Hell, yeah, you’ll pay.”

  She took a slow, deep breath and got a plastic bag from the kitchen. Without a word, she walked around the cabin, tossing his shirts, a few stray socks, and a windbreaker into the bag. She picked up the empty cup and dropped the bag in its place.

  “Get out and don’t come back. Ever.”

  Even though his eyes were gritty enough to have been rubbed with sandpaper, she could see an evil gleam.

  “I’m never going with you again.” She picked up the phone, held it out. “Call the police if you want. You used me for years, and now you’re trying to screw up my life again.”

  Mick opened his mouth.

  “Shut up,” she said. “You threatened to turn me in for murder, but we were the only ones there when that man died. No one else knows what really happened. I’m sure the authorities will believe you killed him, not a scrawny ten-year-old girl.” For the first time she caught a glimmer of uncertainty in his dark eyes.

  “I rewrote the events of that night in a young girl’s diary,” she lied. “Along with enough entries to make it realistic. It’s very compelling. All I need to do is deliver it to the cops.”

  “They won’t believe you,” he said, but the faint tremor in his voice gave her confidence.

  “It’s your word against mine. I figure I have better than a fifty-fifty shot. If I win, I’m off the hook, and you’ll rot in prison.” She waited a beat. “I’ll chance it. Will you?”

  “What game are you playing?”

  “This isn’t a game, Mick.”

  “You want money? Is that it?” That was Mick to the core, putting money over everything else.

  “No. I want something bigger.”

  “What?”

  “For you to leave the country. Today. I’ll buy you a one-way plane ticket. Forget you have family here. Change your name. Disappear. If I ever hear you’ve contacted anyone in this town, I’ll head to the police station.” Her words rang with truth, because despite the small white lie about the diary, she had every intention of following through. This was her plan, and she’d make it
work. This was her plan to get her life back.

  As he glared at her, she could almost see the wheels turn in his head. The phone rang in her hand, and she glanced at the caller ID. Cedar Valley Fire Department. She wasn’t finished with Mick, but Jordan rarely called her from the station, so she walked out the back door and answered it.

  “Miss Quinn?” a woman’s voice asked.

  “Yes.”

  “This is Stacy Carter. I’m the receptionist for Cedar Valley Fire Department. Jordan Stone asked me to contact you.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “They have a structure fire in progress at 425 Westland Avenue. I understand it’s your office. Can you go there now?”

  “Yes.” She ran inside and grabbed her keys, dimly aware that Mick had vanished.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Plumes of smoke rose from downtown. Main Street was blocked, so she parked on a side street and wove through the crowd until she reached the tape. Flames curled up the side of the building, and the thick smoke made her eyes water from a block away. Knowing Mick had been here made her eyes tear even more. Damn him.

  Her anger dissolved into fear at the sight of the three fire engines parked in front of her building. A ladder reached out from one, and a firefighter stood on the top, his hose spraying water. Was it Jordan? Clouds of smoke obscured the name printed on the back of his helmet.

  Firefighters in bunker gear jogged toward the fire from the farthest engine. Together, two of them held a hose and the third, an ax. They disappeared through the front door. She ducked under the tape.

  A police officer frowned, and motioned something as he headed toward her, but she couldn’t hear him. The fire trucks rumbled, people yelled and underneath all that was the roar of the fire.

  “Get back,” the officer yelled.

  “I work here,” she said in a rush. Thank God Nicholas was still in Oregon. She didn’t want him to see this.

  “Over there,” the office pointed to a white SUV with flashing red lights and Battalion Chief written on the side. A group of men in uniforms and hard hats stood next to it. One spoke into a hand-held radio.

  “Excuse me,” she said to a tall man. He didn’t respond, so she tapped him on the shoulder and yelled. “I work here. They asked me to come.”

  “Is there anyone in there? The crews inside are looking, but they haven’t found anyone yet.” The man’s gaze locked on the burning building.

  Mel checked her watch and shook her head. “The construction crew doesn’t start until eight.”

  “Is there anything in there we should know about? Chemicals, anything unusual?”

  “Just the usual office supplies and equipment. A few tools in the front office, on the right. That’s it.”

  “Got it. Please stand aside.” He gestured vaguely toward the crowd.

  She went to the far side of the truck, but she didn’t go back to the crowd. Smoke spilled from the vents and windows, mixing with the flames on the south wall. Sirens wailed, people shouted, and yet above all of it, she thought she could hear the angry hiss of water meeting fire.

  The fire trucks sprayed water in huge arcs that would have been beautiful at a town picnic, but now seemed small and inadequate. Sirens blared, another fire truck turned the corner and maneuvered around a police car before stopping. Crowds surrounded the area, but inside the tape the firefighters moved with the precision of a military drill. Mouths open and closed, arms gestured, but the shrill sirens made hearing them impossible.

  Anger flared inside her, burning bright as the fire. Mick did this. Firefighters, police, even the onlookers were here because of him. Her dreams were drifting away with the smoke, because of Mick. He was ruining her life, and risking the lives of those fighting this fire.

  Another team of three went inside. She knew some of the men battling the fire, even if she couldn’t pick them out and her stomach clenched. She hadn’t truly appreciated the dangers of fighting fire, the intensity of the towering columns of flame, the smoke and noise. It overwhelmed her, and she was a block away. She couldn’t begin to imagine doing anything like this. The flames reached, stretched and devoured, flickering forward and back like a snake’s tongue, alive and hungry.

  A three-man crew suited up next to Engine 2. She looked closely, saw Jordan in the middle. Dread warred with pride as he slipped an arm through a strap and settled the big yellow tank onto his back. He fit a mask over his head and attached the black hose, as did the other two. It reminded her of the first time she’d seen him wearing bunker gear at the car fire.

  Air masks covered their faces and hoods were barely visible beneath their helmets. Dressed in a yellow so deep it was nearly orange, with black and white reflective stripes on their arms and chest, they looked like they’d just arrived from outer space.

  Jordan picked up a huge axe. The others grabbed a hose, and they disappeared into the burning building. Seconds dragged into minutes, then into what felt like hours. She wanted to tell them not to worry about the building, to just get the firefighters out, but they wouldn’t listen to her.

  Another engine arrived, disgorging a handful of firefighters. Finally, three figures emerged from the building, but the smoke was so thick she couldn’t tell who they were. Then more. One, two, and there, appearing through the smoke like a mirage, the third.

  “Abandon the building!” The order thundered through the air. “Imminent collapse!”

  She spun toward the chief’s vehicle to see a man with the bullhorn, and the world turned to chaos. Rapid-fire staccato blasts ripped through the air with a deafening roar. Firefighters sprinted from the building. A man with a video camera on his shoulder ran and tripped. A firefighter grabbed his arm, and they both ran.

  Fear pounded through her. Clamping her hands over her ears, she realized the fire engines were sounding their horns—air horns, Jordan called them. They seemed to give extra speed to those final stragglers racing away. That’s when the roof started to move. With a ponderous ripple, it shifted to the left. Everything happened in slow motion, like an old movie where every second is stretched to ten. Barely visible through the billows of smoke, the roof tilted, sank, and disappeared. An instant later, Mel heard a muffled crash, and the ground shook as wild flames leapt up in greedy satisfaction. There was a pregnant pause as the air horns went silent.

  Yells suddenly split the air, motors rumbled, and flames crackled. There were creaks and groans, and another crash when the front wall collapsed. The chief gestured in what she prayed was an “all clear” confirmation. Tears stung her eyes. Firefighters attacked the fire, but their actions were controlled, they movements precise. She couldn’t see a rescue crew preparing to go inside and prayed that meant everyone had escaped.

  Blinking hard, she ducked under the tape. An arm slid around her shoulder, and Alex looked at her with concern and sympathy. Tears trickled down her cheeks, but she managed a half-hearted smile.

  “How long have you been here?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” She leaned on him. “When I got here, there was still a roof.”

  “Is Jordan there?”

  She nodded, and they watched until the flames subsided and smoke and steam wound skyward. Every time a new spout of flames shot up, the firefighters would attack, until all that remained were messy black shapes where her building once stood. Rivers of ash flowed down the gutters, disappearing into the storm drains, taking her dreams with them.

  Alex stayed with her, nodding to friends and handling the small talk. He must have known she couldn’t speak. A while later, the crowd thinned, and Anna appeared on her other side.

  “Sara’s at Last Chance.” Anna put a hand on Mel’s shoulder. “She’s swamped or she’d be here. I’m going to give her a hand, but I wanted to check on you. How are you doing?”

  Mel shrugged.

  “Where’s the boss-man?” Anna asked.

  “Oregon. I have to call him.” The news would break his heart. Setting up the branch had been a first for both
of them, and she felt like they’d failed.

  After Anna left, they watched the firefighters use shovels to search for hot spots. As most of the crowd left, she saw two men she didn’t know park next to the chief’s truck. After a brief conversation with the chief, they talked to the firefighters and made notes on a clipboard. Were they from the insurance company? She didn’t even know which company Steven hired to insure the building. They pulled on coveralls and started poking around, carrying clipboards and a toolbox instead of shovels.

  A second fire engine finished up and drove away as Jordan walked over. Alex squeezed her shoulder and waved to Jordan on the way out.

  Jordan watched her as he pulled off his gloves. “How are you holding up?” He’d taken off his coat and wore a white T-shirt and suspender style bunker pants with heavy black boots. He touched her cheek, but didn’t hug her, probably because he was filthy. She could have used his shoulder to lean on.

  Exhausted, she tried to smile, but her body felt numb, and she couldn’t quite manage it. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not yet. Why don’t you give me an hour to clean up, and we’ll have lunch?”

  “I don’t think I can eat.” She pressed a hand to her churning stomach.

  “Probably a combination of stress and the smell. The fumes coat the inside of your nose if you’re around them long. A hot, steamy shower will help clear your head. Go back to my place if you want. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay.”

  Someone called for Jordan, and they both turned.

  “Hang on a minute.” Jordan jogged to the chief, who stood next to the two men in coveralls. They exchanged a few words and Jordan came back.

  “Do you feel up for talking to them?” Jordan asked, nodding toward the group.

  “I’ll give it a try. Who are they?” She followed him across the sidewalk.

  “Investigators.”

  The image of Mick’s eyes, hard and full of revenge, flashed in her mind. That smell, burnt and acrid, was the same smell that burned her nose now. Fury clouded her vision, made thunder roar in her head. She could hear Jordan’s voice, like he was calling from far away. Everything spun in circles, distant and vague like a nightmare she couldn’t wake from. She was dimly aware Jordan had lifted her into his arms.