“It’s what he knew.” Mark’s comment jarred her.
“He set the fire.” Her words shattered the night air. Like that, Addy’s secret was out.
“Oh...God...I’m sorry.”
“He knew fire,” she said. “He knew how to make it happen quickly and all at once.”
“A man who knows fire does not subject his family to that kind of hell.”
Intellectually she had it all figured out. “A rational man doesn’t subject his family to hell at all.”
She looked at Mark and wanted to curl up into him and lose herself within the strength and compassion he offered. “We were supposed to go instantaneously. All at once. It was his way to keep us together forever.”
At least that’s what she made herself believe. It was the only thing that made sense.
Nothing was forever. Not childhood. Not one’s safety. Not even life. The thoughts rolled over one another, gaining momentum until more than just her silence had been shattered. There was no great rumbling in her ears as the walls, weakened from the night before, tumbled down. No warning.
No big switch from Adele to Adrianna.
Just blistering rawness. Around her. On her. Inside her...
She was five again. Back in Shelter Valley. Shaking. Cold and hot and wet and scared. Tears running down her cheeks. Choking. Huddling in the thunder and the eerie silence. Thirsty. Waiting for someone to come get her.
Mark gave a gentle tug and she leaned into him, letting him lift her over to his lap where she settled in his arms. “I’m so sorry.” He said the words over and over as Addy finally admitted, full on, the horror of knowing that her father had killed her mother and brother.
And had tried to kill her, too.
CHAPTER TEN
MARK KNEW THE second his neighbor resurfaced from the hell she’d sunk into. She stiffened in his arms and he let her go immediately, acting as if nothing unusual had happened as she crossed back over to her own chair.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That.” She motioned toward him, but she was looking at her fountain. “I hardly know you and that was inappropriate. I’m not a crier. I assure you.”
The night was dark. Quiet. Warm.
“Don’t, Adele. Please.” Unlike him, who had Nonnie, she was alone. Completely alone. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I consider you a friend. And you needed a friend. I’m not sorry. I’m glad I was here. Any time you need to talk, or need anything, I’m here.”
In Bierly he’d never have had to say that. Folks just knew.
He could barely make out her nod in the darkness. And so he sat with her. It was just the silence, the night, the glistening water fountain and him. There with her.
Ten minutes passed in silence, and then she shook her head.
“You okay now?”
“Yeah.” She glanced at him, a half smile on her lips. “I don’t know what came over me. It was all so long ago. And I’m fine, really. I don’t make a habit of falling apart. Ever. I hardly even think about that time in my life.”
He wondered if maybe she should.
“Something’s obviously bringing the old memories to the surface,” he said. “Maybe it’s just that you’re away from home, out of your element. Starting a new life...”
He was going through similar adjustments. Reflecting on the life he’d had, the perceptions he’d held, all the things he’d thought he had known.
“Mark?”
“Yeah?”
“Back home, people call me Addy. Would you mind doing so?”
Did he mind? Hell, no. “Is that what your folks called you?”
“My mom, yeah.”
She sat straight up, apparently back in control of her emotions. It was as if she hadn’t just been sobbing in his arms minutes before. Her strength was impressive.
Her compassion—Nonnie couldn’t say enough about her—was noteworthy. And she was sexy as hell.
No wonder he couldn’t go an hour without thinking of her.
She seemed to need silence and he was happy to sit with her for as long as she wanted. Sleep was irrelevant.
“No one knows about my father.”
“That he set the fire, you mean?”
She nodded. “The fire marshal...he was a friend of my father’s. And back then, fire investigation was based almost solely on the opinion and theories of the fire marshal.”
“They didn’t have fire forensics like they do now.” She was in Mark’s territory now.
She nodded, and said, “If he’d ruled that my father started the fire, I’d not only have been emotionally scarred, but I’d have lost his benefits. There’d have been no money for the funerals, or for my care. So he didn’t. I’m sure the fact that my father was a firefighter and friend had something to do with it, too. They protect their own.”
“So what makes you think your dad set the fire deliberately?”
“I know he did. Several years later, my dad’s friend came to see my grandmother. I think he was checking up on me, actually. Anyway, they were in the kitchen talking and I could hear them through the register in the bathroom.”
“Did you say anything?”
“No. Not to anyone. Ever.”
So why him? Why now? And why wasn’t he feeling the least bit cramped by this...thing...between them? He wasn’t receiving replies to his texts to Ella, but things were still somewhat unresolved in his mind regarding the woman he’d expected to marry someday. The woman he’d mentally committed to.
He’d promised Ella he’d be back. It was a matter of his word, not whether or not she believed him.
Or maybe the situation was resolving itself. Maybe his heart knew what his mind was not yet processing—that Ella was not his one and only. That leaving her wasn’t reprehensible. Or wrong.
“You want to go out to dinner sometime?” His words sounded like firecrackers in the night.
“Depends.” Her gaze didn’t move from the fountain.
“On what?”
“Why you’re asking.”
He wasn’t sure. He’d just asked. Kind of like asking Ella to marry him. “You’re patient with my grandmother. We’re friends. I’d like a night out and don’t know anyone around here.” Not entirely true, but close enough. He didn’t know anyone well enough to want to hang out with them for a whole evening.
“So we’d be going as friends.”
“Sure, we can keep it at that,” he said. That was what he wanted, too. Except for when he was thinking about making love with her. Which he was trying not to do, semi-successfully.
“‘Friends’ is all I can offer you.”
He wondered why, but didn’t ask. “I’m good with that.”
When she didn’t say anything else he asked, “When do you want to go?”
“I’m assuming you’re talking about going to Phoenix, right? Other than diners there’s not much here.”
He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Phoenix, it is. When?” He could hear himself pushing her. And didn’t stop.
“Your schedule is a lot more complicated than mine,” she said. “I’m good with just about any evening.”
He was pleased to hear it. “I’m working the rest of this week and through the weekend,” he said. “As soon as next week’s schedule is posted, I’ll let you know.” He was a fill-in supervisor, good for any shift that he wasn’t in class. He’d told them he’d work seven days
a week.
So far, they were holding him true to his word.
“Sounds good.”
He held back a grin, already looking forward to their non-date to nowhere in particular, and feeling guilty as sin, too.
* * *
ADDY DIDN’T HAVE class Tuesday morning, but she was up bright and early, eager to get her homework done so she could get back to her purpose for being in Shelter Valley—the investigation. With yesterday’s find still chafing at her, she was afraid that she would uncover more—that Will was in more danger than she’d initially suspected. More danger than he’d feared.
She was planning to go through all of the personnel files on record, looking for any other inconsistencies in hiring, firing, commendations, raises, nepotism or relationships—all fodder for lawsuits.
She was eager to immerse herself in the job, and forget about the past. Forget, too, about Adele Kennedy—and her relationships.
Her cell phone rang five minutes after she was out of the shower. Recognizing Nonnie’s number, she picked up immediately.
“Can you do hair?”
She’d done Gran’s toward the end when her grandmother couldn’t get enough air in her lungs to make it across the room, even with her oxygen tank, let alone make it to the hairdresser’s.
“Yes.”
“Can you get it done before my grandson stops in after class? He thinks he’s going to do it for me before he goes to work, and as good as that boy is at some things, I don’t ever want him touching my curls again. I look like a damned boy when he gets done with me.”
“I’m sure someone at the shop in town would come out and do it for you,” Addy offered, because she was Adrianna Keller and had work to do. And because she wouldn’t always be next door to Nonnie Heber.
“I don’t want Mark to have to spend the money on it. If you can’t do it, I’ll be fine looking like a boy....”
She heard the ploy even as she gave in to it. “Do you want it cut and curled or just washed and cut?”
“I want whatever much you can do.”
“You got hair scissors and rollers?”
“Brung ’em with me.”
A full do would take her about an hour. Looking at the clock, Addy said, “I’ll be there in five.”
* * *
THREE DIFFERENT GIRLS made it privately obvious that they were vying to be Mark’s lab partner in his entry-level fire and combustion class. Three of the four girls in his class. He asked Jon Swartz, a guy he’d seen walking with a kid into shop downtown, to partner up with him.
He was the oldest guy in class. Jon was easily the second oldest. He didn’t need coed complications.
He wasn’t there to interact with students. He was there to learn about things he used to think he already knew.
“You want to light it or should I?” Jon asked, referring to the small mound they’d built in the stainless-steel utility sink—their rendition of combustible composition, solid fuel. They’d used a piece of construction paper, rolled and standing upright. They’d doused the paper in chlorine, which was an oxidizing agent. The dousing was their chain reaction. All that was missing was the heat.
“You light to flash point,” Mark said with a grin. “I’ll do fire point.”
Jon smirked. “Sure, man, you take the easy one!”
He had. And next time, Jon probably wasn’t going to give him the choice.
Half an hour later, they were walking out of class, both of them heading to the parking lot. “Good call, standing the paper vertically,” Jon said as they separated from the rest of the students in their lab.
The quicker burn, as opposed to the horizontal, slower burning position all of the other students had used, had won them bonus points on top of their A.
“Can’t say that I came up with that on my own,” Mark told his lab partner. “Cylinders at the gasification plant where I work are manipulated on a vertical axis when a quicker burn is needed.” He was only one week into his classes and just beginning to comprehend all that he had yet to learn, but at least some of what he’d learned back home was relevant.
“Where is there a gasification plant around here?” Jon kept pace with him.
“Sorry, where I used to work, back home. I work out at the cactus jelly plant now.”
“No kidding. I tried to get a job there. I really need the benefits. They work around your school hours?”
“Yeah. They’ve been great, so far.”
“You on the line?”
“Supervising.” It sounded egotistical so he added, “I’ve been doing full-time plant work since I was sixteen. My experience is what got me the position.”
“You’re supervising?” The dark-haired guy sent him a sideways glance. “You think you could get me in there?”
He had no idea but said what came naturally, “I’ll see what I can do, buddy. You working now?”
“At the gas station. But the hours suck. I can’t make enough to pay bills and I got my kid to look after.”
“You have a kid?”
“A son, yeah.”
“Where’s his mother?”
“In New York, last I heard. I thought we were in love but she was just having fun. When we turned up pregnant, she wanted an abortion. She agreed to have the baby instead as long as I took full custody. And here I am.”
They were almost at the student parking lot outside the building that housed most of the chemistry labs. Mark shook his head. “How old is your son?”
“Two.”
“Are you in touch with his mother?”
The younger man shrugged. “Nope, but Abe and me, we don’t need her, either.”
They’d reached their cars. “I’m on my way to work now,” Mark said, unlocking the door of his truck. “I’ll ask around and see what I can find for you.”
“That’d be great, man.” Jon’s vehicle was a an older truck, too, but unlike Mark’s his had a car seat in the back. “I’ll sweep floors. Anything they need.”
Mark believed him.
* * *
WASHING NONNIE’S HAIR wasn’t hard at all. After rolling the old woman’s chair up to the bathroom sink, she’d draped her bony shoulders with a towel and then helped Nonnie slide down in the chair until her head hung in the sink.
Addy took extra time massaging Nonnie’s head while she lathered and conditioned and rinsed.
“I think Mark likes school,” the old woman murmured while Addy’s fingers worked gingerly on her frail scalp.
“I know he does.”
“He told you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“He told me you applied for the scholarship for him,” Addy said. She was in Shelter Valley to do a job. And had to find out everything she could about anything having to do with Montford University.
“I told him I didn’t.”
“He thinks you lied.”
“What would be the point? He’s already here. Besides, I’m not afraid of my grandson.”
With the help of a cup, Addy rinsed Mark’s grandmother’s hair. Letting the warm water wash over Nonnie’s head as the woman scoffed.
“So you didn’t do it,” Addy asked, just to be clear.
“Nope.”
“Who did?” One of Nonnie’s friends? Someone else the old woman had wrapped around her finger?
“I’ve been wondering that,” Nonnie said. “I didn’t know a thing about it till it showed up in the mailbox. Just like Mar
k.”
Frowning, Addy wrapped a towel around Nonnie’s head, used a second to drape her neck and helped her to sit up. “No one’s come forward?” she asked. “Even after he accepted?”
“Nope. I got my ways of findin’ out things and, hard as I tried, I couldn’t find a damn thing.”
The situation was definitely odd. She’d get to the bottom of it. Now that she had personnel concerns, scholarships were further down on her list of avenues to investigate, but she would look into it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MARK WAS WAITING for Addy when she got out of her last class Wednesday morning. They’d compared their class schedules and locations the night he’d stayed with her after she’d had her nightmare. It was hard to believe that had been just three nights ago.
She saw him leaning against the side of the building as she exited the doors with the rest of the crowd leaving the lecture hall. In his usual uniform of jeans, a polo shirt and leather shoes he should have looked ordinary to her.
But he didn’t.
“I wanted to thank you for yesterday,” he said, taking her books from her as he walked beside her toward the parking lot as easily as if they made the trek every day. Which they had, considering this was only her second day of class.
“No need to thank me,” she said. “Being with Nonnie is a treat. She reminds me of Gran.”
“For some reason I thought your grandmother was conservative. Proper.”
“She was.”
“Nonnie’s outrageous.”
“She’s smart. Savvy. Perceptive. And most of all, she adores you more than anything in the world.”
His head dropped and she added, “My gran was the same way with me. It’s nice. Everyone should have someone so firmly in their corner.”
“Tell me she didn’t tell you about me spitting out my peas in my dresser drawer.”
Addy laughed. “You spit your peas in your dresser drawer?”
“I’d seen it on TV or something. A way kids could get out of eating vegetables they didn’t like.”
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