The Tour

by Shelby Rebecca

  My heart is pounding as I hold Riley’s hand, watching the door as the EMT puts an oxygen mask on her—and then on me, too.

  A police car pulls up along with all the other sirens. Then another. “The caller said there was arson,” the male police officer says as he’s getting out of the car. He walks toward me as I sit on the edge of the ambulance floor, my legs shaking uncontrollably. “Can she talk?” he asks the EMT.

  I take the mask off and nod, “It’s Katharina Inez. She broke in and put some accelerant on the floor. Then she threw a bottle filled with it. I ran out with my sister, but Kolton and Deloris are still upstairs.”

  “Well, the fire’s out, ma’am. What’s your name?” he asks.

  “The fire’s out?” I blurt the words, along with a heavy, relieved breath, all at once. I jump up and I’m shaking my hands—so full of adrenaline.

  “Yes, the body guard reported that the sprinklers did their job. My officers are heading up now to make sure it’s safe for the EMTs to go in.”

  “Can the firemen do CPR if they need it?”

  “Yes. But they can’t go in when there’s a crime in progress. It sounds like a hostage situation.”

  “Oh, no. Are they alive? Please?”

  “It’s too early to tell,” he says, walking away and talking gibberish into the walkie talkie. I jump up into the ambulance again and check on Riley. She’s got her mask on and is sitting up on the gurney. She nods to me and lets more tears fall. I put my hand on my chest to try and calm the fast pace of my heart, and the racing of my mind.

  “Breathe, Riley. Take a deep breath.” I say, as I do the same.

  A loud bang rings out from high up in the air. Everyone jumps, including me. People scream and I’m frozen in place. That was definitely a shot.

  Heart beating. Breath shallow in my ear. Sirens.

  I don’t remember her having a gun. Did she?

  It seems like a million frozen-clock minutes until there’s another clue. A gurney being wheeled toward the elevator. Then two more.

  “What’s going on?” I ask the air around me. “Did they die? Did they?” I jump down off the ambulance, bare feet against the black asphalt. “I’ll be right back, Riley,” I say as she looks on, wide-eyed and little. The things she’s seen in her young life… things no one should have seen.

  I run inside the foyer and watch as they take the folded up gurneys into the elevator. In my peripheral, I see someone coming down the stairwell. White hair. A nightgown drenched. “Deloris?” She’s holding her cat and it’s digging its claws into her arm, but she won’t let him go.

  She’s breathing heavily, her face pallid. Her eyes and mouth open wide. When I reach out for her, she falls into my arms and onto her knees. “Help!” I scream. “Deloris, is Kolton—?”

  She’s shaking her head. Tears are falling and she’s gasping for air. I realize she’s run down thirteen flights of stairs. That must’ve taken a long time for her. She probably wasn’t even there when the shot went off.

  An EMT comes up and helps her onto a stretcher. Another one is putting a blanket over her and they’re checking her eyes for dilation, and then her pulse. She still won’t let go of that damn soaked cat. They push the gurney toward the ambulance Riley and I were in.

  The elevator door opens, and the firemen are pulling a gurney out.

  I see Kolton’s shoes first. His legs are completely still. His face is obscured by an oxygen mask. He’s alive!

  “Oh, thank God!” I say, reaching my hand out to him.

  As they wheel him past me, Devon and Manny come out of the second elevator.

  I run along the side of the gurney trying to see him, to touch him. It’s then I catch his green eyes as they come into contact with mine. His eyes look wild—imprinted with all that he’s just been through… what he’s seen. Or maybe what he had to do to make it out. I take a breath. He is alive and that’s all that matters. I feel lightheaded but full of relief.

  “Kolton,” I whisper. He closes his eyes and coughs into the mask. “Are you hurt?” I ask, but he does nothing to respond.

  I don’t see blood anywhere. Or burns. Is he burned? I can’t tell. Then he puts his arm out to me, and I gasp. There’s blood running down his arm.

  “Ms. Phoenix,” Manny calls to me as Kolton puts his hand out long enough for me to feel the warmth of his skin. He’s soaking wet, from water, I think. When I look down, blood falls into my hand. He grips me tightly.

  “Is he okay?” I ask, my voice breaking up into chunks of high-pitched squeals.

  “You can’t come with us. Please step back, ma’am,” I’m told before I’m pushed out of the way, forcing Kolton to let go of my hand when they put him into the back of the ambulance.

  “I love you,” I say, as the doors are closed and the ambulance drives away. I’m standing in a daze. Barefoot. Covered in stage makeup that must be oozing down my face. There’s blood on my hand. And as I look at it, my hands are shaking.

  A flash bursts through my moment of shock and fear. And when I lift my head, I find that photographers are starting to embed themselves amongst the scared people who’ve been evacuated in the middle of the night.

  A news van pulls up and the reporter jumps out, followed by a camera man. I put my head down and realize I don’t know what hospital my sister was taken to, or Deloris and Kolton, either. I’m so lost, and time seems to turn in circles around me. I am alone amid so many people out to scoop this story.

  I look for my body guard, Manny, and walk toward him, ready to ask him what happened to Kolton when I spot Devon, who’s pacing as the police question him. I watch as they pat him down and take his gun.

  “Manny,” I ask. “What happened?” The look on his face is one I’ve never seen. He has sweat on his forehead, his skin is flushed, and his eyes are jittery, busy scanning the scene. “Is Kolton okay?” I ask, “I mean, can someone tell me anything at all?” I’m begging, holding my hands in the prayer position.

  As he opens his mouth to speak, he looks up and his eyes grow wide and wary as two officers walk up to him. “Put your hands against the wall,” one says. He stiffens, sticks his chin up, and does as he’s told. They pat him down, and take his gun, too. The photographers snap shots, but I don’t bother to try and hide from them. I can’t even move. I’m dizzy and feel stuck. My heart is beating fast, my chest is rising and falling, but I can’t get enough air.

  Both Devon and Manny walk toward the police car, and I’m watching to see if they put handcuffs on them. I mean, why would they pat them down and take their guns unless they’ve—unless they’ve used them? Unless they—shot those guns.

  Unless the only other person who hasn’t come down in a gurney didn’t come down because there’s no reason to take her out in an ambulance.

  A female officer walks up to me as I’m piecing it all together. “Mia Phoenix,” she says.

  “Is she dead?” I ask. “Katharina?”

  “Can you come down to the station with us?”

  “I need to go to the hospital with my little sister. I’m her guardian,” I say.

  “Your sister is not in any danger,” she says, her voice too calm, like she’s cushioning me from the truth. “We need to get a better understanding about what happened tonight,” she says, decidedly.

  “Is Kolton going to be okay?”

  “As I said, I need to ask you a few questions.”

  “My sister, Kolton, and Deloris—who are my only family—are all going to a hospital. Can you imagine what we’ve just been through—and, oh my God, I don’t know—” I’m crying in short bursts of words, probably barely audible. “I need a ride over there or I’m not saying a word to you. I need to make sure they’re okay. Then we’ll talk.”

  When she doesn’t say anything, I start pacing. I wish I could just drive myself, but I don’t have the keys to the Audi. And Manny and Devon are both inside the cop car. At least they’re not in handcuffs. That’s when I remember the media’s already here. And I think abo
ut how Kolton told me they would always be there, especially when I didn’t want them to be. I clutch my arms around my stomach to ease the knots forming there, twisting and turning, making me ache for some type of normal.

  “Please. Just get me out of here. I need to be with Riley.” I feel so exposed and open. It reminds me of standing on the grass—of the flames reaching up and out like orange snake tongues, sinister and life stealing. And of the loss that’s still ever present, which will always be so unmistakable in Riley’s and my life.

  How could I not be reminded of that? Maybe that’s what she wanted. To hurt me like she was hurting. So, in that way, she’s won.

  “Okay,” she relents, glancing at me with the saddest note in her eyes. “I’ll take you to the hospital first.”

  As we drive away from the Wilshire Thayer, I think about Katharina Inez, still upstairs, and a chill runs up my spine. I know it’s an evil thought, but the depraved justice-seeking part of me hopes she’s not going to be around anymore to lie about me, stalk us. But if she’s dead, I don’t know how we’ll get over this. I just don’t know.

  I close my eyes to shut out the last moment I saw her. A flash of Kolton being wheeled out on a stretcher smacks me right in the heart. What happened to him up there? I mean, this…it changes everything. I relive seeing Riley, doe-eyed and stunned, and Deloris falling into my arms. Is Deloris going to stay with us after all of this?

  Riley’s going to be devastated if Deloris leaves.

  And Manny and Devon. What’s going to happen to them? Are they going to be arrested? They were doing their job—protecting Kolton.

  For now, all I can do is watch the brick building turn into a memory in the rearview mirror as I try to calm the shaking of my hands and the voices in my head that say it’s not going to be okay.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It’s a Secret

  I think she said something to me—the cop—but I can’t understand anything she’s saying. I feel like I’m in a tunnel and spinning down some deep, dark hole… alone.

  I’m shivering like I do when I’m having an anxiety attack, and I’m sitting on my hands, trying to keep them still. The shaking, it happens whenever I think about the fire that took my parents and left me with scars on my feet and ankles.

  From where I sit, I can’t see the still-red, tainted skin because the car is dark, but I know they’re there, like a secret you hold it in and it festers. They’re itching from when I stepped in the accelerant; they are a constant reminder of the darkest day, the longest night. When we pull up to the parking lot and follow the red emergency sign at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, I get out and run toward the entrance. My feet are bare on the black asphalt which is still warm from having the hot LA sunlight on it all day, even in the winter.

  The moment I’m out of the car, I’m lit up by photographers, as well as the hum of reporters asking me what happened. I want to scream, I don’t fucking know! Instead, I allow the female officer to help shield me from the life-vampires making their living off our trauma.

  I burst through the glass doors and see that, in Beverly Hills, emergency rooms are upmarket and subtly stylish. The front desk is first class and it puts me in my place causing me to hesitate. The lady at the desk begins to ask if I need help.

  “My sister, Riley. Deloris. Kolton.” I’m out of breath, and that’s all I can say.

  A knowing look crosses her face. “Mia Phoenix, come with me.” She motions for me to walk toward the long hallway down the extra shiny white floors. “I’ll take you to your sister,” she says. “She’s in the same room as—”

  “Deloris?”

  “Yes, we don’t need to keep Riley. She’s fine—her carbon monoxide levels were normal, showing she didn’t inhale much smoke. Deloris is being held for treatment. Her levels were high, and we needed to give her oxygen.”

  “What about Kolton?”

  She says nothing but shakes her head and takes me along, passing the soothing green walls and intermittent curtains, and into one of the rooms. Deloris is lying down, eyes closed, and Riley is sitting in the chair beside her. There’s a police officer standing at the end of the bed. Waiting.

  When I walk a step more, Riley looks up and darts out of the chair, and then her arms are around my waist. I run my hands through her long blonde hair and feel her little body shaking from the release of tears. I hold her while I speak to the nurse who brought me in. “Is Deloris okay?” I ask.

  She nods and ushers Riley and me out past the curtain. “Do you have any shoes?” she asks me.

  “I—?” I’m shaking my head ‘no’.

  “You can’t walk through the hospital without shoes,” she says and I’m dumbfounded. She walks back to the desk, and I’m seething, nerves making my face hot, when she comes back carrying some green booties. “You could step in blood, or God knows what, and get sick. Skin absorbs a lot more than we think, being our largest organ.”

  Yes. I remember being drugged at the nightclub by a guy putting LSD on my hand the night that I went out with the other contestants from the show, and I’m grateful for something to cover my feet. I let go of Riley long enough to snap the elastic on my heels.

  Once she sees that I’ve done as I was told she continues, “Deloris came in having significant smoke inhalation symptoms. We’re measuring for levels of carbon monoxide with the CO-oximeter.”

  “Okay,” I agree.

  “That’s not always as dependable so we took blood,” she explains and I nod. “We’re waiting for those results now and then we’re going to take her to get imaged with a series of chest radiographs before moving her to an observation room for the next thirty-six to forty-eight hours. There’s probably nothing to worry about as she’s asymptomatic now, but we need to watch her. She’s very shaken up. The officer is talking to her now that your sister’s with you. Once they’re done talking, we’re going to take her for the images.”

  “Okay. What about Kolton?”

  “Listen. I’ve already given you more than I should. You’re not family.”

  “Excuse me? I’m his girlfriend. He’s going to be irate when he finds out you’re leaving me in the dark.” Her lips purse together and her eyes darken a little.

  “He’s in surgery.”

  “For what?” I ask, panicking, remembering the blood as it fell into my hands. When I look down, I can still see some of it, dried and black, embedded in the creases of my hands.

  “If you’d like to wait for him we have a waiting room outside the operating suites.” I nod, thanking her, and take Riley, still in pajamas and booted feet like mine, toward the waiting area full of chairs and stiff two-person benches. The female police officer who brought me here peeks her head in.

  “Here you are.”

  My back stiffens; I don’t want to talk to her.

  “Apparently, my sister doesn’t need to be admitted. I’m not going to be able to talk to you with her here.”

  “This will be quick,” she says. “Can you tell me what happened when you and Kolton came out of the elevator?”

  “Riley, can you wait in here for a couple of minutes? I’m going to be right over there.” She nods and pulls her knees up to her face, hiding her mouth. Several minutes later, the officer, who I now know is named Martinez, says something into her walkie talkie and leaves us be. She wouldn’t tell me where Manny and Devon were, even after I asked multiple times, in multiple ways.

  I come back and let Riley cuddle up to me. While I rub her back, my eyes close for a second and a female voice pokes its way into my semi-dream. “Ms. Phoenix.”

  I open my eyes and see a middle-aged woman holding a blanket and a file. “I’m a social worker here at Cedars-Sinai. I understand that you were a victim of a fire tonight and that you may not have a place to stay.”

  “No, we don’t, actually. Do you happen to know where my bodyguard is? Has he come in looking for us?”

  “No,” she answers simply, handing me the blanket. Just then Gina DeYoung, my publicist
, walks in looking disheveled and wild-eyed. I jump back a little.

  “Mia,” she exclaims, taking my hand with both of hers. “Oh my God. I came as soon as I heard. My phone was going off like crazy, but I’m a deep sleeper. Listen. I’m going to book you a hotel room for the night. I’ve already placed a call to have a substitute bodyguard come right away. Devon called and instructed me on that himself.”

  “Are Devon and Manny in trouble?”

  “Honestly, Mia. I don’t know anything. What’s on the news is all just speculation but we know that Katharina Inez is deceased.”

  “Holy shit, Gina. Holy fucking shit.” I’m rocking back and forth, Riley’s sleeping head in my lap. I feel like I can’t breathe. My chest is constricting around my heart like a closed fist and a huge knot forms in my throat. I’d thought it, wished it even, but to hear it’s actually true—that’s a whole different sensation. Dead. She’s actually dead.

  “Mia, I’m sure it’s all going to be okay,” Gina says, patting my knee.

  The social worker pulls up a chair and sits down in front of me. “My name is Sara. I’ll be here for you to help transition all of you through this. I can help find you a place to stay. We can call you when Kolton Royce is out of surgery if you’d like to go to the hotel now.”

  “I need to wait,” I say to Sara. “Gina, what’s going to happen next?”

  “Mia, if you want to stay, I can take Riley to my place. Like I said, I’m going to book you a suite nearby. And I’ll issue a statement on your behalf. Kolton also has a PR team. They’re working on this, as far as I know—”

  “I don’t care about how this looks. I know that’s your job, and I trust you. I need to know if Kolton’s okay. Then we can go to the suite or to your house, or whatever.”

  Sara stands and hands me her card. “I just need to know the alias you’d like him checked in under.”

  “Simon Drake,” Gina answers and Sara nods, writing it down. “Please call me with anything you need. This is my direct line.”