Trial By Fire

by DiAnn Mills

  She pressed in Paul’s number and told him what she’d learned. “We’re looking at revenge here. If he’d been hired, even at his own church, he’d be alive today. He wasn’t married, so the teenage daughter must be our person of interest.”

  “A seventeen-year-old arsonist.” Paul’s frustrated tone matched her feelings. “I bet the pastor knows or suspects her.”

  “I agree. He’s lost one child and will do anything to protect the others.”

  “I’m pulling up Facebook to see if I can match up a name and face. I should have asked to see the Golden family yesterday. Got it. Lisa Golden . . . she looks like the one who nabbed our Cloud.”

  Relief spread through Savannah, but she could only imagine what this would do to Pastor Golden. “I’ll call her father. I doubt cooperation is in his vocabulary.”

  “Wish we knew if Lee Jr. applied at any other churches.”

  “Maybe he knows the answer to that. We need to get someone on it. I’ll get back to you after I talk to him.”

  She hesitated to press in the pastor’s office number. A gamut of emotions swirled. Telling this pastor his youngest daughter had been identified in an abduction attempt, was a person of interest in a series of church fires, and had threatened an FBI agent would be difficult. A parent’s unconditional love for a child went a long way when it came to forgiveness, but the girl needed to be tried for her crimes. Those deep-rooted emotions were foreign until three weeks ago when Savannah faced losing Travis. How would she react under the same circumstances?

  Lisa Golden was underage and probably grieving her brother’s death. Who knows—maybe it had caused a break with reality. At least Savannah hoped the girl’s actions were not premeditated. Or that her mother or sister weren’t encouraging the actions.

  She forced herself to make the call. “Pastor Golden, this is Special Agent Savannah Barrett. We’ve identified the teen who attempted the abduction of my granddaughter on Saturday.”

  “Is the girl in custody?”

  “Not yet. I don’t like to bring bad news, but it’s your daughter Lisa.”

  “Oh no . . . I thought it was over.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Lisa is highly intelligent. Top of her class. She just secured a full ride to Rice, planned to study English literature. But my baby is extremely troubled. Her brother’s death caused a complete breakdown. We thought the counselor was making progress. This will destroy what little sanity her mother and sister have left.”

  “Does Lisa have a slight limp?”

  “Yes. She also wears a cross and her brother’s dog tags inside her clothing. As much as I hate to implicate her, she was absent from school the day the other church fire occurred. Agent Barrett, when the news indicated she was leaving rhymes, I should have responded. Just couldn’t bring myself to think the worst.”

  The agony in his confession touched her. “Is she in school?”

  “I assume you have to bring her into your office.” His voice choked. “Can I meet you there?”

  “Of course. We learned each of the churches that were burned were ones where Lee Jr. had applied for a youth minister position. Were you aware of that?”

  “He didn’t tell me what churches, but his mother knows. He also talked to Dr. Phillips about working as a youth minister, but we didn’t have an opening.”

  “Why do you think your church wasn’t burned like the others?”

  “You’ll have to ask Lisa. Maybe she felt remorse.”

  “This is tough, and I understand. I’ll meet you at Crestview High in thirty minutes.” Savannah dropped her phone into her purse. Before the day was over, the media would learn about Lisa’s part in the crimes.

  Paul drove them to the high school. Normally they were excited when a case moved into the solved zone, but no one had ever expected a teen to be involved.

  “I called Dr. Phillips,” Paul said. “He’s aware of the seriousness.”

  “Was he surprised?”

  Paul shook his head. “I think he suspected her too.”

  In the visitor parking area, Pastor Golden stood beside his car. A gaunt woman leaned into him. No doubt his wife.

  When Paul pulled in beside them, the woman dabbed her eyes.

  “Let’s make this smooth and fast,” Savannah said.

  “I’ll make the arrest. Better coming from me than you.”

  They greeted the Golden couple.

  “I should have told Lee when I found the tennis shoes, the size mentioned in the FBI press release,” Mrs. Golden said. “They belonged to Jesse, our son-in-law, but they were clean and in her closet.”

  Her husband took her hand. “We’ll work through this together.”

  She burst into tears. “Why didn’t I see she was truly ill? She’s had no interest in her friends, stayed in her room, and still I thought she’d get better.” She reached into her purse and produced a folded slip of paper. “This list of churches was in one of the shoes.”

  Paul unfolded it. “My church and two others are here.” He looked at Mrs. Golden. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s get this done,” the pastor said.

  Together the four walked into the high school office and greeted the receptionist. Paul and Savannah displayed their badges.

  “We need to talk to Lisa Golden,” Paul said.

  The woman spoke to the Goldens and focused on her computer. She frowned. “I’m sorry, but Lisa Golden didn’t come to school today.”

  * * *

  Savannah pulled into the driveway of her home. James had driven the children from day care, even offered to make their dinner. But she wanted to take care of her babies herself. She needed to hold them and tell them how much they were loved.

  A BOLO had been issued for Lisa Golden, and HPD had stationed officers at the churches on Lisa’s list.

  James had the children in the backyard, where Mac was giving his sisters rides in his new camouflage jeep.

  “Savvy, you’re home.” Prime ran to her. Mac stopped his jeep, and he and Cloud hurried too.

  Tears filled her eyes. She’d turned into a mush-filled grandmother, and she didn’t care one bit.

  She sat in the grass and pulled them close to her. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  “Has to be a lot,” Prime said. “You brought us to Houston, and you didn’t even know us.”

  “Count the stars. Then count them again. That’s how much.”

  James laughed. “I’ll find my way out.”

  She turned to him. They’d talked earlier about the day’s findings. He planned to keep the three at home tomorrow. “I appreciate you,” she whispered.

  “Special Agent Savannah Barrett has fallen in love.”

  “That I have.” She thought of Paul and how her heart had softened. For certain, she’d found two new loves.

  Chapter 12

  Tuesday night, Savannah couldn’t sleep. Paul was watching the house outside, and she texted him frequently while waiting for news.

  Lisa Golden hadn’t been located.

  Her church and the other churches on her list were under surveillance.

  She texted him one more time.

  i feel guilty w/ u losing sleep

  how guilty?

  She smiled. we r 2 old 4 that

  says who? marry me & u won’t feel guilty

  She was real close to accepting. can I bring coffee?

  sure

  A healthy dollop of half-and-half and three shots of espresso went into an insulated cup. After adding two homemade oatmeal raisin cookies, she slipped out the front door. For the first time since she’d known Paul, she regretted not applying lipstick.

  She must be losing her mind. A horrible case to close, and she was concerned about her looks. Closing the door behind her, she waved and made her way to his SUV.

  “Hey, gorgeous. The neighbors will talk.” He stepped from his vehicle.

  She handed him his goodies. “They already do.”

  “Are you ready to
make it legal?”

  Twice in the past few minutes he’d mentioned marriage. “One day I’m going to surprise you and ask for a ring.”

  “I already have it.” He took a sip of coffee.

  That startled her, but she continued in the light tone. “Where would we live?”

  “Sell both of our homes and buy a bigger one with a pool on a few acres. Add a horse and a dog.”

  She studied him. “We’re facing retirement.”

  “I have it covered.” He took a generous bite of his cookie. “You could open a bakery.”

  “I’d rather offer self-defense classes to moms and kids.”

  “You could do that at home or at my target range.”

  “You sound serious.”

  He smiled and leaned closer. His lips touched hers. “How serious is that?”

  Like a teenager on steroids, her pulse zipped to her toes. “Are you sure?”

  “Savannah, I’ve just been waiting on you.”

  She took a deep breath, feeling the flush of what was happening—wanting and fearing a commitment to Paul. “We’d have a ready-made family, and we’d be super old by the time they’re finished with college.”

  “Oh, why not. Love doesn’t blow smoke.”

  “I do love you.” There—she said it.

  He set his coffee and what was left of his cookies on the hood of his vehicle. Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her until her head spun.

  Two oldies on hormone overload.

  “You don’t leave me much choice,” she said hoarsely. “And since the neighbors are watching, the answer is yes.”

  “We are going to have so much fun. When do we tell the kids?”

  A whoosh captured their attention, and they both swung to the house. Flames shot up around her home, the home where her children slept.

  She froze. Paralyzed at the horror. Then her instincts took over, and she bolted toward the burning home.

  “Stop! FBI!” Paul raced across the street beside her, pulling his Glock. “If I fire, Lisa, you’re dead.”

  She hadn’t seen the girl, her thoughts on her children. Shielding her face from the flames, she attempted to rush through the roar of the inferno.

  “Savannah, I’ve called the fire department.”

  She tossed him a desperate look. The girl was cuffed and pushed to the ground. He had his phone to his ears.

  “My children!”

  “Savvy.” Prime’s cry alerted her to the second story. She’d opened the window.

  “Sweetheart, get your brother and sister.”

  Prime disappeared. Savannah’s lungs ached, and she coughed.

  “Savannah, we can catch them.” Paul stood beside her.

  She couldn’t bear to look at the cuffed girl, and she was afraid what she might do if something happened to her grandchildren. Sirens in the distance told her help was coming, but it wasn’t fast enough.

  “Savvy.”

  Prime, Cloud, and Mac stood in the window.

  “Jump!” She gestured.

  “We’ll catch you,” Paul said.

  Prime picked up Cloud. The little girl was hysterical.

  “Cloud.” Paul held out his arms. “Come on, honey.”

  Prime picked her up and tossed her out the window. Paul caught her. She ran to Savannah and grabbed her leg.

  Savannah trembled and held her close while her attention focused on the window. “Mac, you’re a superhero.”

  He shook his head. Prime grabbed him. He struggled and Prime shoved him out the window. Again Paul caught him.

  “Prime, it’s your turn,” Savannah said. “It’s easy.”

  The child stared as though frozen. The flames licked a few feet below her window. The fire trucks had arrived as well as HPD.

  A stream of water poured below her window.

  “Prime. We’ll catch you,” she said.

  “I can’t, Savvy. I’m afraid.”

  A hose flooded the front door. Paul sped along the pathway to the front door. A fireman grabbed his arm, but he tore out of the hold.

  “Paul, let them free Prime.”

  He shook his head without looking back and rushed inside the house.

  Savannah’s screams died in her throat. She crushed Mac against her chest and gripped Cloud’s hand.

  Please, God. Spare them.

  An officer escorted Lisa away from the scene. Savannah nodded and resumed her vigilance.

  “Where’s sissy?” Mac said. “Is Mr. Paul getting her?”

  “Yes. He’ll bring Prime to us.” She bent down to Cloud. “We need to pray for Prime and Mr. Paul to be safe.”

  And they did. Savannah prayed with her eyes open and hoped God didn’t mind.

  “Agent Barrett.” Pastor Golden placed a hand on her shoulder, kneeling beside her in the grass. “I don’t know what to say, except I’m praying.”

  She smiled into the lined face of the man who bore a tremendous burden. “That’s the best we all can do.”

  And she meant it while her gaze remained glued to the second-story window. “We love unconditionally, Pastor. As afraid as I am, I know in my heart that your daughter and my loved ones are treasured by the same God.”

  The child stood as a ghost in the window.

  She gasped. “Prime, please jump.”

  The girl didn’t budge.

  Had it taken Travis’s death, a daughter-in-law she’d never met, love for three precious children, and a dear man for Savannah to understand the fullness of God’s love?

  Tears poured over her cheeks . . . forgiveness of herself for a past she couldn’t undo. A simple equation of grace for a divine principle.

  Paul appeared in the window. He lifted Prime, but a leap of flames pushed them back. The two disappeared.

  “Please, God.”

  Pastor Golden prayed aloud. She couldn’t concentrate on the words. Time ticked in slow motion while the firefighters battled a blaze that fought back with rage.

  How long did it take to hurry down steps? What if the fire had destroyed the staircase?

  Paul appeared in the doorway with Prime cradled in his arms. Two firefighters rushed to help him. Savannah could only sob her thanks.

  * * *

  A week later, Savannah planned a Mexican dinner with Mr. Paul as a special guest. She’d moved into a condo with the children until new living arrangements were made. Child Protective Services had visited more than once to ensure the children were being taken care of properly. Tonight, the two planned to tell the children of their marriage plans. Savannah was secure in the decision—the children knew and loved Paul right from the beginning.

  She smiled a bit giddily and sliced onions and bell peppers for the fajitas. As long as the three didn’t think a family included Uncle Jim. At this point he’d be best man.

  Odd how a short time ago, she was concerned about retirement and where it would take her. Now she’d let God guide her and Paul.

  Prime looked up from setting the table with red-and-yellow napkins. “Is the girl who tried to hurt Cloud and burn our house in jail?”

  Savannah wished the little girl hadn’t learned the truth, but Cloud recognized Lisa Golden the night of the fire. “She’s in a hospital. Her mind is very sick.”

  Prime nodded as though she understood.

  The doorbell rang and Prime rushed to answer it. After saving her life, Paul had become her hero. His robust laughter rang through the condo. She set aside the skillet and made her way to greet him. The sight of him made her insides like jelly. Whoever said love didn’t happen after fifty had not met her Paul.

  “There’s my favorite girl.” He planted a kiss on her lips. Something he’d done a lot lately, and she didn’t mind at all.

  “I thought I was your favorite girl.” Prime looked like she might cry.

  “Me too.” Cloud did tear up.

  “You all are, and Mac is my superhero.” He bent down to the children’s eye level. “I’ve been thinking about marrying Savvy. What do you think of t
hat?”

  Their eyes widened.

  “Will you live with us here?” Prime said.

  “We’ll find a big house for all of us. So do you think it’s all right?”

  “I do,” Cloud said. The other two echoed her words. “What will we call you? Mr. Savvy?”

  Savannah met his impish grin. “I think he needs his own name.”

  Paul nodded. “When I was a kid, my granddad called me Buddy. Would that work?”

  “Does for me,” Savannah said. “You and I will be best buds and partners for a long time.”

  SATURDAY MORNINGS were Stacy Broussard’s escape, especially when life slapped her with stress. No better way to unwind from the week than to ride her quarter horse on Houston’s airport trail and enjoy nature. This morning promised to be the perfect distraction from a truckload of problems, from the anniversary of the death of her sister to seeking custody of a twelve-year-old boy. She looked forward to a lift in her spirit.

  She pulled her truck into the Aldine Westfield Stables. As usual she was the first one of the airport rangers to arrive. Chet’s pickup wasn’t parked beneath the moss-draped oak, and he normally arrived before dawn. Strange since he took his responsibilities as stable manager seriously.

  Finishing her latte, she grabbed her wallet and keys and stepped outside her truck to admire an incredible purple-and-gold sunrise. Not even an early morning aircraft landing disturbed her. She walked slowly to the stables, taking in the singing robins and the familiar humidity. The smell of horseflesh and straw tickled her nose.

  “Good morning, boys and girls,” she said. “Your friendly veterinarian is on the scene.”

  If anyone heard her, they’d declare her insane. Maybe so when she reflected on how much she preferred an animal’s company to a human’s. Except Whitt . . . the most fascinating twelve-year-old on the planet.

  Stacy ambled past each stall until she reached Ginger’s, greeting the horses by name, touching velvety soft noses, and visibly checking to ensure they were okay. Her pets looked healthy. Spending a few extra moments with Ginger eased the knots in her shoulders that no massage could ever eliminate.