“Judy, don’t do this to me. I never hurt you!”
“But you did.”
“How?”
“You’d never know. Never. You’ve never been on the outside, looking in. Taking the crumbs. Standing outside the limelight while the audience went wild. Never mind, it doesn’t matter now. After the inquest, we’ll all get to go home again.”
Smiling, she reached into her pocket for something.
A book of matches.
“Tell Keith hi for me, and say that one day I’ll see you both in hell.”
She struck a match. The flame jumped up, a brilliant red, yellow, and blue.
She dropped the match... and smiled as she watched fire spread like a flaming sea over the bedcover.
There was no traffic. He drove at a breakneck speed, unable to understand the sudden panic that had seized him. He left the mainland, ripped onto the causeway, and burst onto the bridge to the island, ignoring everyone and everything in his path.
He drove up to his house, amazed to see that everything was quiet, the usual lights were on, and there seemed to be no activity.
Yet even as he jerked the car to a screeching halt and leapt from the driver’s seat, he saw the sudden arrow of fire, bursting out above the roof...
From the guest house out in back.
Mickey awoke, puzzled at first as to what had disturbed him. He heard nothing.
Then he realized there was something strange about the air. The smell of smoke....
He bolted up. Raced to the window. Dialed 911. Raced out into the hallway.
“Fire!”
Instinctively, he headed for Kathy’s room. Banged on the door. Screamed her name.
The sheets caught fire in a sudden, small inferno. Kathy managed to scream, and willed herself to roll. God! She shrieked silently, trying desperately to move! The fall to the floor was an impact for which she couldn’t really brace herself. Stunned, she lay where she’d landed, terrifyingly aware of how quickly the flames were spreading, how smoke was already beginning to fill the room.
She heard Judy’s laughter, a chilling sound. The woman was psychotic. An absurd realization. And one made too late...
She was aware that Judy was starting to move, ready to escape the blaze before it could devour her. Again, Kathy managed an aching, dragging movement, half rolling, half twisting her body toward the foot of the bed. Just in time to trip Judy as she ran.
Judy shrieked, falling herself, her head striking the footboard as she went down. Momentarily dazed, she stared at Kathy with glazed eyes.
Kathy lifted an arm, forced her fingers to grasp Judy, inched herself across the floor.
With every aching, grasping movement, her limbs fought the drugs that froze them.
Yet as she slowly struggled, the fire flickered, then spread. With a violent whoosh, the drapes went up in flames. The bed was now an inferno.
Someone had to come. God, she had survived the bed! Someone must come...
But smoke was blackening the place, and she was spasmodically coughing, choking—moving inch by inch.
The stairs. She pulled herself along Judy’s body, moving like a snake, slithering, desperate to reach the stairs. She came to them. She pushed herself—slid, tumbled, moved downward...
“No!” Judy was up, after her. Falling, crashing, coming down the stairs herself. She fell upon Kathy at the landing. Kathy fought her hold, until she realized that Judy wasn’t fighting her. Judy had knocked herself out again; it was just her weight that was holding Kathy down.
She could hear the fire. Within seconds, it had swirled into a wild, raging thing. The drapes were ablaze on the ground floor. Tongues of flame were dancing down the stairs. A sofa shot up into an orange inferno.
She crawled. Elbows on the floor, toes trying to find a hold. The door was so very near. So very far... The smoke, oh, God, the smoke was blackening the room, it was filling her lungs, she couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t fight.
She had to, had to...
Her eyes teared, her mind worked in an hysterical fashion, warning her to keep close to the floor when she could do nothing less. She kept crawling, no slithering, for what seemed like eons but was only seconds. She prayed...
Then hands were on her. She discovered that she had a voice again. She shrieked out, thinking it was Judy holding her back, trying to take her into the flames. She wouldn’t be like Keith, unconscious. Nearly paralyzed, she would be unable to move quickly enough to escape a searing agony. She would...
Die.
Oh, God, she would die.
She had to keep moving, had to fight the smoke, the coughing, the heat, the flames, licking closer and closer to her, oh, God, oh, God...
Somebody was trying to grab her, hold her. Oh, sweet Lord, maybe help.
She twisted around. Judy. Judy, her face blackened and shadowed, her eyes wild. She had something in her hands. A broken piece of two by four, charred by the fire, still smoking. She shrieked out in fury, and started to swing it downward with all her strength.
Kathy discovered that she again had the power to scream.
“Sweet Lord!” Vicky Sue gasped, bolting up in bed. “Larry, dammit, wake up!”
Haley bolted up, dazed, dragged from a deep sleep. Vicky Sue punched him in the arm, pointing to the window.
The guest house was ablaze.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “I don’t believe it. Thank God Jordan’s at the hospital. It’s uncanny. The damned thing is burning to the ground again.”
Derrick Flanaghan woke. “Judy?” He ran his hands over his wife’s side of the bed.
He could hear shouting. “Judy?” he repeated, his voice trembling.
Ten years ago, he had awakened to cries of “Fire!” while alone in his bed. Now, he was doing so again.
He put his hands to his face and a shuddering sob escaped him.
God, no.
Yes...
They began to gather on the patio.
Just as they had gathered once before.
Miles, Shelley. Larry, Vicky Sue. Miles had told them to stand back when he’d tried to enter the burning house. The heat had thrown him back at first, but Larry had gotten him the hose so that he could soak himself and go in.
Then suddenly, Alex Treveryan came racing pell-mell out of the main house, shrieking. “My mother! My mother isn’t in her room. Oh, God, my mother!” Tears streaming down her face, she raced toward the guest house.
“Stop her!” Shelley shrieked. “For the love of God, stop her! It’s an inferno!”
Miles flew into action, struggling with Alex, who hit him in her frenzy to escape. Yet even as she broke Miles’s hold, she was suddenly caught up again.
“Get back!”
Startled, Alex went still, focusing on the man in front of her, gripping her arms. Her father.
“Mom!” Alex cried hysterically.
“Get back! I’ll get her. I’ll get her.”
“Jordan!” Miles cried. “Jordan, you can’t—”
But he could. He pushed past Mickey, letting Larry soak him with water as he did so, and went into the house.
Sally, Gerrit, Bren, and Jeremy hurried out of the house, Sally sobbing. Jeremy caught hold of Bren when she would have followed her father. Gerrit held Sally.
“He’ll get her. Believe me. He’ll bring her out alive. Have faith.”
He heard Kathy’s scream, leaped over a burning piece of cypress fallen from the roof, tore through the kitchen. Kathy was close to the door, rolling in just the nick of time to escape a blow from the smoke-blackened figure standing over her. The figure screamed in rage, raising its club of charred wood again. Jordan let out a roar, racing forward, plummeting into the figure, knocking it away from Kathy, ready to take on any foe.
Judy. He landed atop her. Judy Flanaghan. He was so stunned that he merely stared at her for precious milliseconds. “Good God!” he breathed out.
She shrieked something, trying to strike him then. He hadn’t the time. H
e leapt up. When she charged him, he sidestepped her. She screamed in anguish, falling onto the burning sofa.
Mickey burst into the blazing house, a drenched housecoat over his head and shoulders.
“It’s Judy, get her,” Jordan yelled. “But watch out!”
He knelt down by Kathy. She was still. Oh, God, the smoke. So much smoke.
He started to whisper her name, like a chant, over and over as he swept her up, praying. Don’t let her be dead, God. Please don’t let her be dead. Please, please, don’t let her be dead. Please...
He burst out of the house, carrying her, stumbling onto the grass. There was an explosion from within; windows shattered and sprayed shards of glass, flames shot high into the night. He covered Kathy with his body, heard the scream and shriek of sirens.
He lifted his weight from her body and looked down, still praying, half-aloud, half in silence...
Her eyes were open. “Hi.”
Her voice was husky, rasped by smoke inhalation. And her cheeks were smudged, her eyes a startlingly rich amber, like a good whiskey.
She was beautiful. Never more beautiful.
“Thank God you know when to come home,” she managed to whisper.
He smiled down at her, shaking. Thank you, God, thank you, God, thank you...
“Think you know when to come home?”
She smiled. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. Is that an invitation?”
“Maybe. No—that’s exactly what it is.”
She smiled, then winced. Her throat was burning and raw. Her lungs ached, her head ached. “Oh, Lord!” she gasped out. “Judy... was in the fire.”
“Mickey got her.”
Kathy nodded. There were suddenly firemen everywhere. Nothing else that could be said between them because Alex and Bren were crying, half sobbing, half laughing, falling on the grass beside their mother, hugging her. And Sally was there, with Gerrit. Shelley, Miles.
The hugs, Kathy thought vaguely, were so tight they were almost painful. Wonderful. And, dear Lord, by some sweet miracle, she was able to hug back.
But for a precious little time. The paramedics came, putting her on a stretcher. Jordan managed to make her understand that she had to be treated for smoke inhalation, and she realized, looking at him, that he appeared somewhat strange—parts of his eyebrows had been singed away. He didn’t seem to notice. He rode with her in the ambulance, holding her hand.
“It was Judy,” she said incredulously.
“I know.”
“So strange. We just didn’t see it.”
He folded both his hands around her fingers. “Well, life is kind of like that great manuscript of yours. The one you just bought for your company. So much seems so obvious. We tend to believe what we think we see without looking beyond it. Not trusting other instincts. I should have trusted you.”
“Yeah. You should.”
“And you shouldn’t have run away.”
“Maybe not. But you were a miserable wretch.”
“Agreed. I’m still a miserable wretch—sometimes. Want to marry me anyway?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
“There won’t be any problem with Muscleman.”
She smiled very slowly, looking directly at him. “Not if we make sure to ask his boy friend to the wedding. He’s a wonderful person, too. You’re really going to like him.”
He stared at her, shocked. Then he started to laugh. “Oh, I deserved that. Hell! I’m telling you, the husband is always the last to know.”
“Ex-husband.”
“Soon to change.”
“What about Tara?”
“Oh, I think she’ll be all right. I’ve promised her a discreet breakup. Her career, you know.”
“Ah!”
“So you will marry me, have my baby, all that stuff?”
“I’ve had your baby—twice. Remember those beautiful little creatures following behind us?”
“Ah, yes, how could I forget?”
They reached the hospital. One of the E.R. nurses had been on duty the night he’d come in with Tara.
“Mr. Treveryan, I have to say, sir, it seems you are just hell on women!”
“Oh, he is. He’s hell on women,” Kathy agreed. She was sooty, singed—a mess. So was he. And strange with those burnt eyebrows.
It didn’t matter. She willed herself to find strength. With him, it seemed easy. She stood on tiptoe, threw her arms around him, and kissed him.
Their prime, she decided, was just beginning.
Epilogue
NATURALLY, DUE TO THE circumstances, the benefit performance by Blue Heron was postponed. Judy came out of the fire alive, but Derrick was devastated.
Kathy was somewhat surprised to realize that she didn’t hate Judy for what had happened, but her own life was so full that she could pity a woman so jealous of those around her that she would resort to murder.
The papers had a heyday with everything that had gone on, and Blue Heron music had never been more popular.
Alex’s twenty-first birthday was celebrated in a far more quiet manner than had been intended, but that was all right with Alex. She was surrounded by her family and very close friends. And Angel gave her an elegant diamond, one he had saved long and hard to purchase. She assured her parents it was the best twenty-first birthday a girl could possibly have.
Tony Grant, Jeremy’s just-as-nicely-muscled roommate, arrived Thursday morning, anxious because of the shocking news stories. Kathy noted with humor that Jordan was delighted to welcome him, and that he and Jeremy quickly became good friends with Jordan, just as they had earlier with Kathy and the girls.
As for Tara, she became engaged to a well-known doctor before she left the hospital.
Kathy didn’t leave the publishing field. She wasn’t going back to a full-time job; she was never leaving Jordan again. But she would work freelance, editing certain manuscripts at home. She also made Marty very happy by promising him that she would try to write that book on Blue Heron as soon as she had a little distance from the events that had just occurred.
In September, while under psychiatric observation, Judy expired of congestive heart failure. Jordan, Kathy, Miles, Shelley, Larry, and Vicky Sue attended the funeral with Derrick. He seemed broken and lost. He wasn’t ready to work with them yet, but he was grateful for their presence.
In October, Jordan and Kathy were remarried in the beautiful cathedral where they had first exchanged their vows. Gerrit was best man, while Sally was matron of honor. Those two had recently been married themselves.
And Sally had changed her tune. She now claimed that any time of life could be prime time. It depended on what one made of it.
Kathy and Jordan didn’t go on a honeymoon right away because the postponed performance by Blue Heron had been rescheduled for the end of the month. By the time they played, Derrick had rejoined them. He was a different man. He’d developed an inner strength. Though still sad, he was glad to be playing with them again. They had their ghosts—Keith and Judy—but they had a new lease on life as well. Gerrit was going to join them for a few numbers; and on three songs, the girls were singing. Life had its cycles, but as Kathy knew, all of them could be good. For one number at the performance, three generations of Treveryans were on stage. That was very special. The audience went wild.
Tara was a guest that evening. She found Kathy backstage after the show, hugged her fiercely. Kathy hugged her in return.
“I had to tell you... the director called me—well, I think Jordan had something to do with it. I’m going to play you in the movie! That is... if you don’t mind.”
Kathy started to laugh. “I think it’s great. I would have suggested it myself. I’m delighted.”
Late that night—very late—after the press had disappeared and the party was over, as was everything else that went with the performance, Kathy and Jordan finally left for their honeymoon.
He’d suggested Paris; she’d asked for something very quiet. They’d decided on a private Fre
nch island in the Caribbean. And near noon on the following day, they were lying together beneath an umbrella on an absolutely secluded beach, lazily watching the endless waves and the white sand that surrounded them.
“So, did you suggest Tara for the movie?” Kathy asked.
Jordan lifted his sunglasses, but couldn’t quite see Kathy’s eyes beneath the darkness of hers. “Yes, I did. I admit to some guilt on her behalf. She’s a good little actress. Do you mind?”
Kathy smiled, shaking her head. “Not at all. She’ll get an actor as Jordan Treveryan. I get the real thing.”
He grinned, tossing aside his sunglasses, tossing aside hers. Then he poised above her in the sand, balancing his weight over her. “I do love you, Kathy. So much.”
“And I love you. Have loved you. For all of my life.”
He bent his head down and kissed her.
And kissed her...
And indeed...
... it was the prime of life.
A Biography of Heather Graham
Heather Graham (b. 1953) is one of the country’s most prominent authors of romance, suspense, and historical fiction. She has been writing bestselling books for nearly three decades, publishing more than 150 novels and selling more than seventy-five million copies worldwide.
Born in Florida to an Irish mother and a Scottish father, Graham attended college at the University of South Florida, where she majored in theater arts. She spent a few years making a living onstage as a back-up vocalist and dinner theater actor, but after the birth of her third child decided to seek work that would allow her to spend more time with her family.
After early efforts writing romance and horror stories, Graham sold her first novel, When Next We Love (1982). She went on to write nearly two dozen contemporary romance novels.
In 1989 Graham published Sweet Savage Eden, which initiated the Cameron family saga, an epic six-book series that sets romantic drama amid turbulent periods of American history, such as the Civil War. She revisited the nineteenth century in Runaway (1994), a story of passion, deception, and murder in Florida, which spawned five sequels of its own.
In the past decade, Graham has written romantic suspense novels such as Tall, Dark, and Deadly (1999), Long, Lean, and Lethal (2000), and Dying to Have Her (2001), as well as supernatural fiction. In 2003’s Haunted she created the Harrison Investigation service, a paranormal detective organization that she spun off into four Krewe of Hunters novels in 2011.
For All of Her Life Page 32