by Lyn Cote
Boom! Another wrenching, ear-splitting explosion. Burke pulled Keely close to his side. Debris burst skyward along with bright flames.
Still screaming, the crowd ran back toward their seats, their arms over folded over their heads.
Burke managed to get his phone out of his belt. "Get Rodd out here!" he shouted into the phone. "I think someone's blowing up cars in the parking lot!"
Chapter Thirteen
Leaving the stands where the audience now huddled together, Burke ran toward the parking lot. Someone might be injured. And he had to put a stop to the explosions if he could.
A sheriff's siren whooped, and the other deputy swerved to a stop at the street side of the parking lot. Backup--great.
Keely was at Burke's heels. He turned to her. "Go back to the athletic field! Get both coaches to help you!" He handed her the bullhorn. "Keep order!"
She didn't argue but took the horn and swung back. "Don't worry. I can handle it!"
Hating to leave her, Burke ran on. Ahead, he saw the flames still shooting skyward. One car that had exploded was parked cockeyed in the middle of the street, not in the lot. How had it gotten there? Another car, parked nearest the first, also blazed, sending up billows of orange-gold flames. Burke felt the heat on his face.
An anguished scream echoed through the crisp night air. "Help! Help ...me!"
Burke recognized the voice and raced toward it. He spotted Grady lying on the parking lot asphalt. He ran to him and dropped to one knee. "I'm here."
He reached for Grady's wrist and stopped. The teen was burned on the arm and wrist he'd been intending to grip. The same side of Grady's blackened face was burned--red and blistered. Burke took the other wrist and felt the pulse. It was rapid. Burke scanned Grady and saw no other injuries. "Were you out here when the car exploded?"
"How do you think I got burned?" Grady shouted. "It hurts! Hurts!" The kid began swearing.
The other deputy appeared at Burke's side. "The ambulance is on its way—"
The sound of the fire engine cut him off. Blasting their air horn, the crew pulled up and began running the hose to the nearest hydrant.
"Check the athletic field," Burke instructed the other deputy. "Ms. Turner may need help to keep everyone inside the stadium and out of the firefighters' way. If not, come right back."
With a nod, the deputy jogged away, talking into his cell phone.
Grady moaned loudly.
"Don't worry. Help is coming," Burke assured him. "Did you see who did this?"
"I did this," Grady snapped. "I pushed the old bag's car out in the street and set it on fire—"
"Hold it," Burke stopped him. "I'm a police officer. Everything you say can and will be used against you in court. Don't tell me anything you don't want me to know."
"I did it, you dumb jerk!" Grady yelled at him. "I wouldn't have had to do so many tricks if you'd been smart enough to catch me!"
"You wanted to be caught?" Burke stared at Grady. The kid reeked of gasoline and was clearly in intense pain and maybe shock. Where was the ambulance?
"I wanted to get out of this hick town! I thought my dad would have to send me away if I got in enough trouble! What's wrong with you? I dug holes, shot out windows, set the bleachers on fire ..." The kid moaned again.
The teen's ready admission shocked Burke. Hearing this would kill Keely. Could he believe her brother, or was he just talking crazy? "Grady! You're confessing a whole string of crimes to me. Are you sure you're in shape to be talking like this?"
"Don't you get it?" Grady bawled. "I want out! I want out and I don't care how I do it!"
As the man who loved Grady's sister, Burke wanted to stop her brother from saying another word. As a police officer, he had to keep this kid talking. Taking a deep breath, Burke did his job. "Why did you dig the holes?"
Grady spat out the name of a girl, followed by several derogatory terms. "She wouldn't go out with me. I wanted her to take the fall, but that other girl hit the holes first." Grady swore loud and long, groaning and twisting on the asphalt.
"You say you set the bleachers on fire," Burke said. "Did you also set the fires in the waste bins?"
The other deputy returned but hung back, listening. He'd be Burke's corroboration.
"Yeah, I found out I kinda like setting fires." A ghost of a smile lifted Grady's pained expression. "It was fun watching them. And then all the excitement. I liked watching, hearing about the fire." Grady screamed suddenly, "Help me!"
"Why did you set the Family Closet on fire?" Burke continued the questioning. The truth had to come out. It would hurt Keely, but this would be over—finally. "Everything else was done on school property."
"I was just going to pay back my sister for making me work there. It was like having to work at the Salvation Army!" Grady cursed again and called his sister a name.
"Don't say another word against your sister!" Then Burke slammed a lid on his anger.
"I didn't mean for the whole place to burn down," the kid whined. "I just wanted to burn the back porch." Grady writhed with the pain, moaning. "So I started the fire and then tried to call the fire department to report it. But my cell phone's battery was dead. I just had to make a run for it!" He screamed again, rocking with pain, "Help me!"
The ambulance roared into the parking lot. Burke stood up and waved his hands. "Over here! Man down! Burns!"
Pulling up, the EMTs jumped out of the ambulance. Burke stepped back beside the other deputy to let them surround Grady.
As he watched them work on the teen, he thought about Keely. The mystery was solved. Nick was only guilty of letting air out of tires, setting off firecrackers, and fighting with Grady. Everything else Grady had admitted to. Burke took off his hat and raked his hair with his fingers.
Keely stood in the brightly lit room at the clinic. Fear rampaged inside her. Her baby brother lay limply on the gurney, with reddened and blistered skin and blackened, shredded clothing from the blast. He'd been in the parking lot when the car exploded.
This fact loomed inside Keely, making it hard for her to breathe. Grady, does that mean you set the explosion? I've dreaded this and now it may be true. What more could I have done?
Burke had his arm snugly around her. "Hang in there," he whispered in her ear. "It's not as bad as it looks."
"He's right," Dr. Doug spoke up. "Your brother's only got first and second degree burns. And I don't see any problem with his lungs."
Grady lay on his back staring up at the lights overhead without expression. That wasn't like her brother. He didn't take pain well. Even though the EMTs had given him medication immediately, she'd expected him to still be complaining. But he just lay there, silent and immobile.
"He's in shock," Dr. Doug said as though reading her mind. "And the morphine is taking the edge off all his reactions, not just the pain."
"What ..." she faltered, "what ...treatment will he have to have?" The unreality of everything since the explosion seemed to be slowing her own ability to think.
Burke tightened his hold on her.
She wanted to say something to him, but the words couldn't get past her lips. She felt disconnected, cut off, abandoned.
A powerful voice boomed through the quiet clinic."Where's my son?"
Keely stiffened. Her father had arrived. She pressed closer to Burke.
Her parents hurried into the examining area. "What happened?" her father thundered.
Wendy Durand, the sheriff's wife on duty at the clinic tonight, hovered near him. "Mr. Turner, please quiet your voice. We have patients—"
He pushed past her and went to the doctor. "Tell me."
Dr. Doug turned away from the chest X ray he'd been examining. "Your son was burned in a fire at the high school."
"Fire? Another fire?" Her father sent Keely and Burke a scathing look. It shouted, This is all your fault!
Burke shook his head at the man. How could he expect me to stop Grady?
Dr. Doug began, "Grady was in the parking
lot when a car exploded—" Suddenly, Dr. Doug called out, "Catch her!"
Wendy caught Keely's mother as she fainted. Burke left Keely's side and helped Wendy get the woman safely into a bedside chair.
"You!" Turner launched the word at Burke. "Where were you when this was happening to my son? If the sheriff doesn't get rid of you—"
"Mr. Turner," Burke replied, "I was at the game when it happened. I had just patrolled the parking lot not ten minutes before the explosion. We had no way of knowing that someone was going to blow up a car."
"That nephew of yours has gone too far this time!" her father continued. "This isn't just a misdemeanor—"
"Father, when the explosion happened, Nick was on the field playing football." Keely refused to let her father get away with false accusations. "He couldn't have done it."
"A timer!" Turner snapped. "He must have set a timer!"
Burke shook his head. "The sheriff is examining the crime scene himself right now. But I don't think we'll find anything that elaborate."
Missing Burke's warmth, Keely folded her arms around herself. More bad news was coming. How would her father take it?
Burke picked up Grady's unburned hand. "I can smell the gasoline on his skin, can't you?"
"You can't put this off on my son." Her father's face was deep red now. "You better watch yourself."
Keely felt tears coursing down her face. "Burke told me he's admitted it, Father."
"The initial car blown up was Veda McCracken's," Burke continued, not letting her father break in. "She informed against your son for the Family Closet fire. That gives him an excellent motive."
"Everyone hates that old biddy," Turner replied.
"I don't hate her," Grady mumbled. "I hate you."
The words stilled everyone. They all turned to stare at Grady.
"Why did the other car blow up?" the teen asked. "I only fixed it so the old lady's car would blow—"
"Grady, you don't know what you're saying," his father interrupted.
"Yes, I do. I hate you and I blew up McCracken's car."
"Grady," Burke said, "I've cautioned you repeatedly and I've read you your rights. Remember, anything you say can and will be used against you—"
"My son is no criminal!" Turner roared.
"Mr. Turner," Burke said in a patient but implacable tone, "your son obviously wanted to be caught. Doesn't that tell you something? He needs help and he's trying desperately to get it."
"When I set the other fires, you never found any evidence ,did you?" Grady asked, his voice weak and devoid of emotion. "My old man thinks I can't do anything right, but—"
"Grady," Turner ordered, "shut your mouth!"
"Will he be scarred?" Keely's mother, revived, asked in a plaintive tone.
"Only my soul, Mother," Grady said with a sarcastic twist. "Give me some more drugs. I'm floating."
Mrs. Turner began weeping.
Keely felt like she were floating, too, in a nightmare. She wished she could wake up and all this would disappear.
"Grady may have to have some slight plastic surgery," Dr. Doug answered as though unaware of the potent currents swirling in the room, "but he should heal fine. He needs to stay here until he's well enough to go home in a few days. He was lucky he was far enough from the blast that he only got a lick of the flames. At least, that's my guess. If he'd been closer, it would—"
"I ran as fast as I could," Grady went on in that odd voice, still staring at the ceiling. "But the flames just went so fast on the gasoline trail I made to her car."
"Shut up, Grady!" his father ordered. "Don't say another word."
His son looked at him. "What's the big deal? You can buy the old lady another car. The one I blew up wasn't worth anything. If I'd realized how fast the flames would eat up the gasoline—"
Turner pushed Burke out of the examining area. "Out! Out! I'm calling my lawyer!"
"Your son needs help," Burke urged. "Some kids use suicide attempts. Some use setting fires—"
"I won't listen to you," Turner raged. "You aren't the one to lecture me."
Burke stared at him. "Don't try to move your son out of this clinic." His voice sounded firm and cold. "He's to stay here under guard until the doctor releases him, and then he will be charged with arson."
Turner tried to object.
"Father," Keely said with as much force as she could muster, "just let it go now. Let it go."
For once, her father subsided. The resistance went out of him visibly.
Burke told her his intention and then went to wait at the clinic entrance for Rodd to arrive. Keely watched him walk away and felt as though he'd left her completely. She and Burke had just begun drawing close. Now she couldn't even imagine the attraction that had refused to be ignored.
Keely and her parents sat in the doctors' lounge. Dr. Doug had let them use it while he finished treating Grady's burns. Later, they'd go to see him settled in his room.
"This is awful," her mother said, weeping. "I can't face anyone."
"Grady didn't do it," her father maintained.
Keely looked back and forth between them. They were acting just as she'd expected they would, so that must not be upsetting her. What had snapped inside her? "This is a terrible shock to all of us."
"Grady didn't do it," her father repeated.
"How will I ever face anyone in this town again?" her mother moaned.
Keely closed her lips. Her own shock was too fresh. What could she say to them? She felt both her mother's shame and her father's denial flowing inside her. She tried to hold back tears but couldn't. Why had this happened? She'd worked so hard. She'd prayed in such earnest. What would be her father's next move? Would he be able to keep Grady from being prosecuted?
"Father, I have only one thing to ask you," Keely said in a voice that trembled. "How can you keep denying this? Grady admitted it in front of witnesses."
Her father didn't even react.
Burke was right. Grady was shouting for help. But would her father ever listen? Her brother could be dead now.
"Keely, this is Burke. If you're there, please pick up."
It was the next afternoon. Still in her pajamas, Keely sat in her family room, overlooking the lake. She stared at the phone.
"Keely?"
She didn't move. He hung up.
All the feeling had gone out of her. The sound of Burke's emotionless voice as he'd repeated what Grady had told him had started the freezing of her emotions.
She'd suspected Grady herself--but not of everything. And not that he'd go as far as he had. Did he have any conception of the wrong he'd done? What were people thinking? What was her father going to do? He was capable of going to any length to protect his own.
Burke, we knew this wouldn't work out from the start. Why didn't we save ourselves from this pain?
I should get up and go to the clinic and see Grady. But her resolve to go on had somehow withered. She slid onto her side on the sofa and closed her eyes.
Early the next Saturday morning, a bright cold day, Keely drove into the Kainz driveway, dreading this meeting. But she had to come. Both Penny and Jayleen had asked her to be present. Why do they want me? I have nothing to do with this.
She parked her car and got out. The Weavers' minivan was already here. Patsy Kainz had invited Penny over to talk to Jayleen about Rachel's future. At Jayleen's request, it was to be just the four women. Bruce would stay home with Zak. What do they think I can do? I can't even run my own life.
She considered all she'd learned this past week. Grady had pushed Veda's car into the street, opened the gas cap, and poured a trail of gasoline from the car to the curb. Then he'd dropped a match. Trying to imagine him doing this while she and Burke sat inside the athletic field hit her as unreal.
Not only had Veda's car exploded but also the car nearest it. Evidently, it had had an undetected crack or the first explosion had cracked its gas tank. And the disaster hadn't ended there. Three other cars had been destroy
ed by the ensuing fire. Fortunately, Veda's tank had been nearly empty or it could have been much worse. Maybe Grady would have been killed in the explosion. Keely's father had already been served with papers suing him for loss of property.
Keely had taken Monday and Tuesday off from school. She hadn't wanted to face the crime scene. But she'd forced herself back to school on Wednesday, just as she had forced herself to answer Burke's next call that same day. But she hadn't been able to make herself talk to him since.
Each day it only became harder, not easier, to get out of bed and go to her office. Her deep sense of involvement and failure became heavier and heavier. She told herself she wasn't responsible for what Grady had done. But she didn't think that was what was dragging at her, weighing her down.
Nightmares plagued her every attempt at sleep. In her murky dreams, she'd be standing outside the Family Closet as it blazed. Someone was inside;someone needed her, but she couldn't move. She couldn't get the person out. then she'd wake up, her heart pounding.
Keely walked over the newly frozen ground. Her exhaustion making her more susceptible to the chill, she knocked on Patsy's bright red door.
"Hello!" Patsy greeted her and ushered her inside. "It's getting cold out there all right. We'll be getting snow before you know it."
"I hadn't noticed," Keely said in all honesty, sitting down at the table in the kitchen where Penny and Jayleen already waited. Her knees shook she was so tired. December had arrived. The fundraiser and the holidays loomed ahead, and she couldn't work up an ounce of enthusiasm over anything. If I could just get a full night's rest. But would that be enough to help her?
Patsy bustled around the red-and-white kitchen, pouring tea and putting out sugar cookies shaped like turkeys. Watching the older woman's energy only heightened Keely's fatigue. The scent of the apricot tea and the sugar cookie sweetness was cloying.
"We have to finish these up. Time to bake Christmas cookies soon." Usually Patsy's upbeat liveliness charmed Keely. Today, she really couldn't take very much of anything. Can't we just get to the point?