by Lia Kane
I stepped outside and called the officers over to the car. “This young lady is Nazareth Jeffries,” I told them. “And she shouldn’t be sitting here in handcuffs like a criminal. She made the call that saved many lives from a fire, so that makes her a hero. She’s going to explain to you everything that happened and answer whatever questions you have.”
Naz gave me a brave smile as I left her to the police officers. I focused on the house again. The flames appeared to have been extinguished, but the firefighters continued to blast the foundation with water to keep the remains from reigniting. I told myself that we were lucky to be alive, but I was still sickened by the sight of the burned down house in front of me. This was intentional. This was a message.
This was a failed mission.
When I realized that my hands were trembling, I clasped them together in an effort to steady myself. The ambulance with Claudia and Sarah aboard pulled out of the front yard and disappeared down the street. The paramedics called out to me from the back of the remaining ambulance. “Ma’am? We need to take you to the hospital now. Please come back inside.”
I started across the yard toward my caregivers, stopping abruptly when I heard the noisy rumble of an engine and saw headlights approaching. Victor’s Humvee came flying down the road toward Hope House. It wove through the fire trucks, parking at the curb. He jumped out of the driver’s seat, still in his pajamas – a white V-neck t-shirt and grey sweatpants, tearing across the yard.
“Jerrika!” he called out to me. “Are you alright? Are the children okay?”
Before I even had the chance to answer him, he swept me into his arms, lifting me off of my feet. He hugged me so tightly that I almost couldn’t breathe. “Everyone is okay,” I told him. “The children, Sarah and Claudia are on their way to the hospital on ambulances. There’s one waiting for me too.”
“You should go,” he insisted. “Let them take care of you. I’ll follow you over there.”
Victor walked me to the ambulance and I climbed in, resuming my place on the gurney. I closed my eyes as the medic replaced the oxygen mask over my mouth and nose and started a new I.V. line on my arm. The engine rumbled to life and we pulled out onto the road. I watched out the back window as the headlights of Victor’s Humvee followed us. Then my eyes scanned around the ambulance and settled on the wristwatch of the paramedic at my side.
“It’s 2:34 in the morning?” I asked.
He glanced at his wrist to confirm. “On the dot.”
I couldn’t help but wonder what Victor was doing up this time of night. How had he known to come? Did my text message go through after all? And if it did, why had he been awake to read it? Had he checked his phone, just by coincidence? Or had someone called to notify him of the fire? I quickly decided that it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had come to see if I was alright. That was far more important than how he’d found out, I told myself, and willed the nagging voice in my head to be quiet.
Exhaustion finally overpowered the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I drifted off to sleep.
• • •
I awoke in a hospital bed to find Dr. Miles hovering over me, listening to my chest with a stethoscope.
“Breathe normally,” he instructed. “Good.” He pulled the earpieces out, then looked down at the pulse oximeter sensor on my finger. “Pulse ox is good. You’re going to be just fine, Jerrika.”
“What are you doing here?” My voice was hoarse.
“I’m your doctor, remember?” He smiled.
“Are the children okay? What about Claudia and Sarah?”
“Everyone’s fine,” he said. “Minor smoke inhalation. You’ll probably be coughing up a lot of mucous with black stuff in it over the next few days, as your lungs will be clearing out all of the smoke you breathed in. If anyone gets worse instead of better, I want you to come right back here to the hospital. Otherwise, everyone should be fine.”
“That’s great,” I said. “But where are we supposed to go? The orphanage was torched to the ground.”
“I’m taking care of that,” Victor said as he breezed into the room. “I just reserved a large suite at the Holiday Inn downtown. It has four bedrooms that will sleep up to twelve. They’re rounding up cribs for the babies. It will do for a little while, until you can figure out a long-term arrangement.”
“Oh,” I said, a bit bewildered. “That was… fast.”
He took my hand. “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds. I just wanted to help you and the children –”
“No,” I said a little too quickly. “Not at all. I appreciate everything, Victor. I really do. I’m glad to have your help.”
Dr. Miles jumped in. “You’re ready to go now, Jerrika. I’ll send in the nurse with your discharge paperwork. Get some rest, okay?”
“I will,” I promised as he left the room. Then I turned to Victor. “Are you still driving around your VAM-hating Hummer?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m afraid I am.”
“Are you planning to use it to transport all of the kids to the hotel? Because that would be just beyond funny.”
“The passenger seat of the VAM-Hating Hummer is all yours. For the children, I called my friends at the car dealership and they’re loaning us a van and a driver to get the children, Sarah and Claudia moved to the hotel.”
I shook my head. “You’re amazing. You’ve taken care of it all.”
He smiled. “I like taking care of you.”
After I was discharged, we left through the ambulance entrance of the emergency room. The hospital staff warned us that news of the fire had broken, and a newspaper reporter and camera crew from the local news station were waiting for us the lobby. I wasn’t prepared to make any kind of comments about what had happened.
The sun was beginning to rise when we left the hospital. At the Holiday Inn, Victor took charge as usual. Fighting sleep and hunger, I waited in the hotel lobby for him to finish the check-in process. The van arrived right behind us with Sarah, Claudia and the kids, who were equally as shaken and exhausted as I was. Haley cried when she saw me and showered me in hugs. Jermaine, Jervonne and Jonathan did the same, but fought back tears.
Sarah and Claudia gathered the babies and children and ushered them to the suite. Shortly after, Lucy arrived with the morning shipment of blood, explaining that Sarah had contacted her from the hospital to share the news of the fire and the temporary relocation to the Holiday Inn. She immediately asked for Jonathan and I pointed her to the suite to see him.
Then a dark blue sedan parked in front of the hotel and two men stepped out. Although the men were in plainclothes, the guns and badges on their belts were a dead giveaway that they were cops. When they opened the back door of the car, Naz bounded out onto her feet. They escorted her into the building, and she nearly knocked me over when she saw me. We hugged while the officers made small talk with Victor for a moment, then approached me.
“Miss Jerrika Rand?” asked the taller, more physically fit of the two. He was a middle-aged man with cocoa-brown skin and a handsome face. “I’m Detective Patterson,” he said. “This is my colleague, Detective Bishop.” The scrawny, older Barney Fife-lookalike gave a friendly nod. Both of them handed me business cards. “The fire marshal is still working at the scene this morning, but the latest word is that this is an arson case. Someone doused the perimeter of the house with gasoline, then entered the crawlspace underneath to set the foundation on fire. We’ve been assigned the criminal investigation, so we’ll be your primary points of contact as we’re working the case.”
I was speechless. Part of me had been hoping for the news that the fire had been electrical, or accidentally set – or any other number of non-malevolent causes. Hearing for certain that someone had tried to murder myself, two other women and eight children was more than I could take. I backed into one of the overstuffed arm chairs in the lobby to sit down.
“We know this is a lot to take in,” said Detective Bishop. “We’re going to do everything
we can to find who did this, and bring them to justice.”
I tried to clear my head long enough to focus on the issues needing my immediate attention. The teenage girl stared at me and shuffled her feet nervously.
“What about Naz?” I asked, “What did you do with her last night at the police station? Is she in trouble?”
“Not at all,” said Bishop. “We took a statement from her, and based on what she shared, we don’t believe that she had any involvement in the fire – other than reporting it. In which case, yes, what you told our officers last night is correct – she is indeed a hero.”
I mustered a smile in her direction. “Of course she is.”
Patterson continued. “It was still dark outside when we finished up, and she was exhausted, so we let her get some sleep on a cot in the locker room. When we offered to take her home this morning, she said that her home is with you. We tried the hospital, but you had already left. Dr. Miles told us we could find you here. So is this correct? Are you responsible for her?”
Naz looked at me with pleading eyes.
I sighed. “We’re… in the process of assessing her for admission into Hope House,” I said. “So yes, she can stay with us for now.”
The teenager’s face softened with relief. Victor offered to walk her to the suite, which was all the invitation she needed to follow him down the hallway in search of a place to resume her rest. With the two of them out of earshot, I stepped closer to the detectives.
“I know who did this,” I told them. “Didn’t the officers tell you last night? It was Bill Jeffries. I saw him yesterday evening, and he threatened me and the orphans, then he vandalized Mayor Drake’s car–”
“It wasn’t Bill Jeffries,” said Patterson. “We checked, and he had a solid alibi. He called an emergency meeting of his church congregation last night, and held an all-night anti-VAM revival. He gave a list of two dozen people who could vouch for his whereabouts.”
I shook my head, disgusted. Apparently, Jeffries’ reaction to the news of his daughter’s diagnosis had been to rally people together to pump up their hatred and fear of VAM. He was a sick, spiteful little man.
“So if it wasn’t Jeffries,” I began, “it had to have been someone from his church. Even if he didn’t directly order anyone to do it, he stirred up all of the anger that led to it. He uses religion to manipulate people’s emotions.”
“We have one lead, but we don’t think there’s any connection to Jeffries,” Bishop said, reaching for a folded piece of paper in his pocket. “Naz gave us some information that we think may be helpful. She remembered seeing a vehicle parked in the woods near Hope House. She couldn’t remember a tag number, but described a light-colored Volvo station wagon. We searched DMV records and found three Volvo station wagons registered to residents of Blue Sky. The first belongs to a woman who is an elderly shut-in, and the car has been sitting in storage for years. The second belongs to a man who travels overseas on business, and is parked in long-term parking at the Charlotte Douglas airport. The last station wagon is registered to someone you may know.”
He handed the folded slip of paper to me. When I opened it, the name that he had written was one that I clearly recognized. My stomach dropped to my knees.
Kelly Holt.
• • •
I entered the suite quietly, hoping that the kids were resting. The sight of Naz passed out on the living room sofa made my body ache for sleep. I was finally starting to cough up smoke, and was happy to see Sarah step out of the kitchen with a wad of tissues. After I spent several minutes hacking up a mouthful of black mucous, she gave me a coffee cup filled with blood. I shamelessly drained it in a little less than a minute.
“Thank you Sarah. Where is everyone?” I asked.
“I’ve got the school-age kids spread out in two adjoining bedrooms. Claudia has the babies and toddlers resting in cribs in a third bedroom. Lucy got everyone fed, then left to go back home.” She pointed to the closed door of the fourth bedroom. “And behind door number four is Blue Sky’s one and only Mayor Drake.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s he doing in there?”
“He looked exhausted. He’s been up all night long trying to help us out, so the least we could do is give him a place to rest. I told him to catch a nap on that big, comfy king size bed, and he had no objections. I think he’s hoping you’ll join him.” She winked at me.
“That wouldn’t be appropriate,” I blushed. “Besides if the kids wake up and see us in a bedroom together, it might confuse them –”
“Sweetie,” Sarah grinned, “no one is going to be confused about anything. We almost died last night, and not a one of us – young or old – cares about anything right now other than the fact that we’ve lived to see another day. The man is just tired, and so are you. The bed is big enough for two. Just go. Get some rest.”
I relented and entered the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind me. The room was completely dark, other than a narrow slit of sunlight peeking through the drawn curtains. Victor was on his back in the middle of the king bed. I lay down next to him and his arm closed around my shoulders.
Then he turned his face toward me. His mouth quickly found mine, and his tongue pried gently at my lips. I drew back with a jolt.
“Victor, no!” I cried.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I can’t,” I said. “I just can’t. I want to, but I can’t do this to you.” Tears sprang to my eyes as I pulled away from him.
“Jerrika, what is it? Please, just tell me.”
I sat up, shrinking back against the headboard. “I’m sorry, Victor, but I can’t kiss you… I can’t do anything with you, because I have VAM. I don’t want to be responsible for infecting you. I don’t want to ruin your life. I should have told you earlier, and I’m sorry I didn’t,” I wept.
A long, painful pause followed. Then he reached for me, pulling me back into his arms. “Don’t be sorry,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re not scaring me away that easily.” He brushed my bangs aside and kissed my forehead.
I fell into the most blissful, peaceful sleep that I’d had in a very long time.
Chapter Thirteen
I AWOKE TO find myself alone. According to the digital clock on the nightstand, it was a little after two in the afternoon. I turned on the lamp to find that Victor had left a stack of twenty dollar bills and a note.
Hope you had a good night’s (morning’s?) sleep. Sorry I had to leave you, but work calls. I’ll do my best to help you keep the media at bay so you can focus on taking care of yourself and the children. I will continue to do everything I can to protect you and keep you safe. Here’s a bit of cash in case you need to pick up anything else in the meantime.
See you soon again.
Victor
I thought back to the almost-kiss we had shared just hours ago, and smiled at what he had told me after I revealed my VAM status to him.
You’re not scaring me away that easily.
The idea of a romantic relationship made me absolutely giddy, but so much about this situation scared me. I didn’t understand my appeal to Victor, and honestly had no clue what was in it for him. I was no catch, I knew. Glancing into the mirror hanging over the dresser, I stared at the dark circles under my eyes and the sunken depressions that were once my cheeks. I looked as though I had lost another pound or two. For someone my size, that was all it took to make the difference between looking marginally attractive and terminally ill. There was no doubt in my mind that I looked as ridiculous and mismatched next to Victor as the robust Kelly had.
Barring my lack of physical beauty, I knew he realized now that a steamy sexual affair was out of the question.
And there was absolutely no good that could come to his reputation and career, should word of a relationship with me become public. A highly respected mayor getting involved with a much younger director of a controversial VAM orphanage, which as of last night, had been torched the ground, was the equivalent of politi
cal suicide. I wondered if anyone had seen him leaving our suite this morning, and if the rumor mill was already abuzz with Mayor Drake’s early morning walk out of the Holiday Inn. I shuddered at the thought.
I couldn’t think of one good reason for Victor to want anything to do with me, and yet I wanted to believe that it was because I was special. That he saw something he saw in me that I didn’t.
There had to be a reason why he would be willing to risk so much to be with me.
There just had to be.
I needed to talk to someone. I thought about Whitney and wondered if she had received my cry-for-help text last night. I wondered too if she had heard about the fire. I wanted to call her but my cell phone hadn’t made it out of the orphanage with me.
I coughed a few more times and raced to the bathroom to spit in the sink. The smell of smoke followed me, and I realized that I was in dire need of a shower. On the bathroom counter, I found a plastic shopping bag filled with new clothes. A few basic items in my size – tees, pants, undergarments – had been left in the room for me.
I stripped my clothes off and climbed into the shower, pulling the curtain shut around me. I started the water and held my nose as it sloughed smoke and ash out of my hair. Then I remembered…
Kelly Holt.
The police detectives had stunned with me with the news they had shared earlier that morning in the hotel lobby. If the car that Naz had seen parked in the woods near Hope House belonged to Kelly, what was it doing there? Had Kelly set the fire? What reason would she have had to burn down the orphanage? It didn’t make sense. The police had said that someone had crawled underneath the house and doused it with gasoline. As big has Kelly was, it wouldn’t have been physically possible for her to fit in the crawlspace. If she had been involved, she couldn’t have been acting alone.