by Brenda Novak
She stopped pacing. “That’s it? He’ll get them back?”
“That was the original plan. He’s not a permanent resident. We thought he’d take the dogs and go, leave the area. No one around here likes killing animals.”
That was certainly the case with Callie. But those stitches on Levi’s arm created a horrific picture of what had occurred. “You said that was the original plan.”
“It was...until one of the dogs tried to take off the hand of a volunteer who was attempting to feed it.”
Callie hated hearing this—but she wasn’t surprised. It confirmed that another attack would likely occur if the dogs were released. “So now animal control is going to put them down?”
“That’s what’ll happen to Sauron. Denny can still save Spike. He might only have attacked Levi because he was following the lead of Sauron, who’s more aggressive. He seems to behave as long as he’s kept separate.”
“So pack mentality got him in trouble.”
“That’s my guess. But once a dog like that gets a taste for blood he might not settle down. It’s a risk to release him, like I said, but no one, especially me, wants to be responsible for euthanizing an animal that could live if only it had a more responsible owner.”
“How did Denny take the news?”
“He’s mad as hell. Said his dogs wouldn’t even be in the shelter if it wasn’t for Levi trespassing on his property.”
Too worn down to keep moving, Callie perched on the edge of her bed. “How does he explain this latest show of aggression?”
“Claims Sauron acted up only because he’s in unfamiliar territory, that he got spooked.” He sighed. “Believe me, he has all kinds of excuses. But there’s nothing he can do at this point. When Sauron attacked again...that sealed his fate.”
“As much as I don’t care for Denny, I feel bad. I know that in his own way he loves those dogs. It would kill me to lose Rifle.” Who was sitting in front of her, wagging his tail every time she looked at him.
“He’ll have Spike—if he pays the fine and Spike doesn’t act out before then.”
Keeping one was better than losing them both....
“How’s Levi doing?” Godfrey asked.
She summoned the energy to get up so she could saunter over to the window and gaze out at the barn. Light gleamed around the edges of its wide, heavy doors. Levi was still up. “His wounds seem to be healing. But he’s been working hard, despite those stitches.”
“He can take it—he’s young and strong. If he’s around in a few more days, give me a holler. I’ll stop by and remove his stitches. It’s not like they’re the fancy disappearing kind. I had to make do with what I had.”
“We’re grateful. Thanks for everything,” she said. Then she shook her head as she hung up. We’re grateful? She’d said that as if they were a couple....
* * *
Rifle jumped on Callie’s bed and howled at the ceiling, waking her from a deep sleep.
“What is it? What’s going on?” she gasped, struggling to come to full awareness.
He didn’t wait for her to gain her bearings. He barked, howled, then barked again and jumped down, after which he dashed out of her bedroom.
“Rifle! What’s wrong with you? Come here, boy!” She managed a short whistle despite her grogginess, but the dog wouldn’t obey. He was going berserk out in the living room—running and barking and throwing himself against the front door, from the sounds of it.
Her heart pounded as her mind raced. Did they have another visitor?
That was her first guess. But Rifle wasn’t acting the way he’d behaved when Levi showed up—or even how he’d behaved when the steroid-crazed Denny and Powell paid her a visit. Her German shepherd wasn’t trying to scare off an intruder or make her aware that they had company. He was upset.
No, he was frantic. Why?
A crash—the sound of shattering glass—made her blood run cold.
Had someone just broken in? If so, they’d managed to silence Rifle. She could no longer hear him barking.
“Oh, God!” As she scrambled out of bed, she considered pulling on a robe but didn’t dare take the time. Already dressed in a pair of silky pajama shorts and a matching spaghetti-strap top, she figured that would have to be good enough. She was afraid her dog had been killed—and that she might be next!
“Rifle?” she called while searching for her pellet gun. If her dog was dead, she was going to need some way to defend herself. There was no telling if Levi even knew they had trouble. It wasn’t as if he had a cell phone she could call.
She found the pellet gun leaning against the wall in her closet, where she’d put it yesterday. But before she could reach the living room she caught a whiff of smoke and paused. Something was burning! The house?
Fires were supposed to be loud, but...she couldn’t hear any crackling.
Maybe someone had thrown a bottle rocket through the front window and it was setting the carpet on fire....
“Rifle!” Now she felt completely frantic. But she forced herself to proceed with caution. She didn’t want to be stupid, didn’t want to walk into trouble.
Gun raised, she crept out of her room and scanned the shadowy furniture, searching for her dog, for any sign of fire, for an intruder. Besides the broken window, she couldn’t see anything amiss. Her dog was simply...gone.
Then she heard Rifle bellowing and realized he was outside.
What the heck? Relieved but perplexed, she kept her gun at the ready and slid over to the window to peer out.
Her jaw dropped and her arms sagged to the point her weapon nearly slipped from her hands. Bright orange-and-gold flames leaped from the barn, sending up a roiling black smoke.
She’d found the source of the smell.
And something else became clear. There was no glass on the carpet. No one had broken her window, attempting to get in. Her dog had jumped through it, desperate to get out.
Rifle was going for Levi. She could hear his howl as he reached the barn. But the structure appeared to be consumed by flames, and Callie feared it was already too late.
14
Levi felt a tug on his arm, then several sharp teeth sank into his flesh. He assumed he was being attacked again—and yet he couldn’t fight. He didn’t have the strength. His mind ordered him to react, to defend himself, but his body was sluggish and resistant.
It wasn’t real, he decided. He was having one of those dreams, the kind where he ran and ran but never went anywhere. This dream involved dogs because he’d recently had a bad experience with them.
As soon as his mind conjured up that answer, which seemed to make sense, he began to sink back into sleep. That was all he wanted to do...drift away into peaceful nothingness. He didn’t have to muster the energy to fight if the threat wasn’t real—
But those damn teeth.
Something dragged him halfway out of bed before letting go. Then the animal—it had to be a dog because of the barking—jumped on top of him, leaped off and barked some more before trying to drag him farther.
When fresh pain lanced through his arm, Levi finally got mad enough to battle the lethargy. Damn it! He wasn’t going to be mauled again!
He came up swinging, which sent the dog flying, but the determined animal crept toward him again. Only this time, he didn’t come so close. He made a racket while dancing around, just out of reach.
It wasn’t until Levi tried to shout at the damn thing to get away and couldn’t draw enough breath to do so that he recognized Rifle. At the same moment, it occurred to him that the night was far hotter than any he’d ever experienced. The heat pressed in on him from all sides.
What was going on?
Then it hit him. This might be surreal, but it wasn’t a dream. Neither was it another dog attack. He was in his room in the barn at Callie’s, and Rifle was trying to wake him because the barn was on fire.
Shit! Panic gave him a burst of energy. As he glanced around, taking in the flames devouring the old wood, he
couldn’t believe his eyes. The fire had sucked most of the oxygen out of the enclosed space, leaving carbon monoxide and Lord knew what other noxious gases. No wonder he couldn’t seem to come around. That was what he’d been breathing—what he was still breathing.
“Go!” He managed a hoarse cry to the dog and stumbled to his feet. The back door hung slightly ajar. He pointed at it while lunging forward. “I’m up! Get out!”
The dog started to obey, but once he got to the door he doubled back to prod Levi on.
Levi wasn’t sure he would’ve reached the yard without Rifle’s badgering. The dog provided him with a focus as well as a constant reminder. Crouch low. Keep moving. He thought that over and over—because the darkness that hovered at the edges of his mind could’ve overtaken him at any time. He had to push it away, resist its strange allure, or he wouldn’t come out of this alive.
What was probably only a few seconds seemed like an eternity, but he finally staggered through the door—and almost knocked Callie to the ground. She was just entering the barn, obviously looking for him and her dog.
“Get back!” He dragged her with him into the cool, clear night, but it wasn’t easy. His skin felt as if it was melting off, and his lungs were seared. He struggled to get enough oxygen even now that he was away from the worst of the smoke.
But luckily, no one seemed to be hurt. His bike was, for the moment, safe in the clearing. And he couldn’t see any flames coming from the house. Those things bolstered his strength. The fire seemed to be concentrated in one place—but it wouldn’t be long before it began to spread....
* * *
Callie changed out of her pajamas before heading back outside. She also gathered up the clothes Levi had in the laundry to take out to him, since he was in his underwear and couldn’t go into the barn to reclaim what he’d removed when he went to bed. Fortunately, adrenaline lent her the strength she needed to remain on her feet. Otherwise, she doubted a person in her condition would be able to hold up under such a strain. But she was determined to battle through the fatigue for the sake of the farm.
Levi had her gardening hose, which was long enough to reach almost anywhere in the clearing. He was using it to wet the buildings closest to the fire so that one of the sparks floating in the air wouldn’t cause something else to ignite.
But he needed to get off the premises. The fire department was on its way. No doubt the police would follow. They’d want to know what had started the blaze. She wanted to know the same thing. After hearing Godfrey tell her how upset Denny was, she suspected this was the retribution he and Powell had promised a couple of nights ago, but she wasn’t about to make any accusations. Not until she learned more about the origins of the fire.
“Let me take over,” she said. “You need to put these on and get out of here.”
He resisted her attempt to give him his jeans and grab the hose. “Stand back, I’ve got it.”
“The fire department will arrive any minute!”
“You look like you’re about to keel over from shock. I’m not going to hand this off to you.”
The way she looked had nothing to do with the shock—or not that much. But she was glad she didn’t have to lie. He’d supplied his own answer. “You’re the one who came coughing and stumbling out of the barn only a few minutes ago.”
“I’m fine. Take Rifle and go in the house so the two of you don’t get hurt.”
Rifle was darting back and forth, barking at the fire as if he could scare it away.
“If the fire department doesn’t get here soon, we won’t be able to keep this from spreading,” he said. “I’ll come for you if it gets anywhere close to the house.”
Callie was afraid it would destroy the entire farm. Fortunately, Godfrey lived far enough away that it wouldn’t threaten his property. He had no clue there was trouble, or she knew he’d be here, doing what he could to help. Anyway, this was her problem, not Levi’s, especially when protecting it put him at risk. “Don’t you understand? Chief Stacy or someone else will come, too.” She had to shout to be heard over the fire and the splat of water hitting wood. “They’ll question you, maybe discover something that’ll lead them to those speeding tickets.”
When she tried to take the hose again, he held it away from her. “I’m not leaving this to you!”
“But I’m worried.” She didn’t want his gallantry rewarded with jail time. “They could lock you up if...if what you’re running from is serious enough.”
“Some things are worth doing time for.”
His response brought Callie a measure of relief. Whatever he’d done in the past couldn’t be too bad or he wouldn’t take that chance.
“You like this place as much as I do,” she said.
“I was talking about you,” he responded matter-of-factly. Then he asked her to hold the hose so he could jerk on his clothes and went to get another ladder from the garden shed. The one he’d been using to fix the barn roof was too close to the blaze, and he couldn’t retrieve it. This was shorter, but tall enough that he could reach the tops of the smaller buildings he was hoping to save. Her grandfather had used it to pick grapefruit and oranges.
Since the only other hose was connected to a spigot inside the barn, Callie could do nothing but watch him work. He was efficient and strong, and she was glad to have his help. She barely felt capable of staying on her feet; she couldn’t have carried that hose and climbed up and down that ladder.
But there wasn’t a lot he could do to put out the fire on his own. They needed more hands and more water. If the fire department didn’t arrive soon, the barn, at least, would be completely destroyed.
She was about to go inside to call the dispatcher again when she heard the sirens and checked her phone. It’d taken them twenty-nine minutes, which wasn’t bad for a country department made up almost entirely of volunteers.
Wringing her hands, she tried to wait as patiently as possible, but watching the flames leap higher and higher wasn’t easy. It was important to her that the farm survive and go on, even if she didn’t.
* * *
The dry, sun-bleached wood of the barn made such perfect tinder that putting out the fire turned into a real battle. After two hours, they managed to save part of the structure, but the back section had burned almost completely to cinders, including the room Levi had been using. Seeing the charred remains of the bed where he’d been sleeping when the fire broke out left quite an impression on him.
But he couldn’t focus on that. Not right now. Chief Stacy had just approached him, asking if he’d come inside the house so they could talk.
Levi was tempted to put him off, to act as if he was still trying to salvage some of his belongings from the ashes. He might be able to slip away among the departing firemen, many of whom had shown up in their own vehicles. He’d fixed his bike, so he had transportation. Only his promise to paint the barn stood in his way, and there was no longer anything he could do to fulfill that commitment. It would take a minimum of two weeks to rebuild what had been damaged. And the labor would cost far more than the few hundred bucks he owed Callie.
He could send her the money for the impound fees and those bike parts when he landed his next job. He had to leave, move on before his past caught up with him.
But he couldn’t abandon her on the heels of such a traumatic event. If it was arson, as he suspected, there was a good chance Denny was behind it. Who else would do this? Besides Kyle and Godfrey, Levi hadn’t interacted with anyone in Whiskey Creek. And Callie couldn’t name one other person who might have a grudge against her.
Levi wanted Chief Stacy to look into the possibility of Seamans’s involvement and, if he’d done it, hold him accountable. Levi wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave Callie alone until he knew she’d be safe—not when it was helping him that had endangered her in the first place.
“Well?” Stacy prompted.
Levi figured he was probably making the wrong decision, but he wiped his sooty hands on his jeans and agreed.
Stacy started toward the house with the expectation that Levi would follow, and Levi did. If he wasn’t going to move on right away, he could only hope to get through the coming interview without divulging too much.
As soon as they walked in, Rifle dashed out of the kitchen where Callie was making breakfast. He hadn’t liked being shut up, away from all the action. But he had a several cuts on his forelegs from when he’d jumped through the window, and Callie had wanted to clean them and keep him inside so he wouldn’t sustain any more injuries.
“You two hungry?” She’d followed her dog as far as the doorway between the two rooms and was looking from one to the other as if eager to ascertain the tenor of their business.
“No, thanks. But a cup of coffee would be great.” Stacy removed his hat and placed it on the table at his elbow as he took a seat in one of the wingback chairs.
“Levi?” she asked.
“Nothing for me.” He carried the wooden bench from its location near the door over to the couch. His clothes were too dirty to sit on the upholstered furniture.
Callie disappeared and came back with Chief Stacy’s coffee. She brought sugar and cream, too. Then her cell phone rang. With a final anxious look in their direction, she said, “It’s my parents. I’m afraid they’ve already heard about the fire, so...I have to take this.”
Levi nodded, and she went into the kitchen to answer it, but Rifle stayed by his side. “What can I do for you, Chief?”
Stacy had been busy fixing his coffee. At this he glanced up. “Let’s begin with the fire.”
Levi inclined his head. That seemed like a good idea to him.
“Can you tell me how it got started?”
“No.”
He paused to take the first sip from his cup, grimaced as if it was too hot but swallowed, anyway. “You don’t smoke? You weren’t burning candles or setting off firecrackers?”
Firecrackers? What was he? Twelve? “No, sir. Everything was calm and quiet when I hit the sack. Next thing I knew, Rifle was trying to drag me from my bed.”
“How’d he do that?”