The Christmas Stranger

by Beth Cornelison

  She had to do something to save herself.

  Could she crack the door open for a peek to see how far the fire had advanced? The storage room was quickly filling with black smoke. She coughed on the choking thick fumes, deciding the question for her. She didn’t want to die here, not having tried at all to get out on her own.

  Wrapping her shirt around her hand to protect her from the heated metal, Holly turned the knob and pushed.

  The door didn’t budge.

  She shoved harder, her panic growing. Using all her strength, she managed to open the door an inch, enough to see someone had blocked the door with the large shelving unit from the opposite wall.

  She had heard someone on the stairs. That someone had trapped her in the dark storage room.

  And left her to die.

  Chapter 14

  Matt sat back on his heels and rolled the ache from his shoulders. He surveyed the shower unit in the middle of the bathroom floor and sighed. He’d done all he could with the installation until Jon returned from the hardware store.

  As he did a bit of straightening from an earlier project, a thumping sound drifted through the heater vent. He stopped crumpling a plastic package wrapper long enough to listen. Was the furnace on the fritz? If so, that repair had to take priority tomorrow. Colder weather was settling into the mountains.

  A muffled voice joined the distant sounding thumps. Holly’s voice. He strained to listen.

  Although he couldn’t distinguish words, Holly’s tone sent a tingle of alarm chasing down his spine. Something was wrong. She sounded scared, frantic.

  Shoving to his feet, Matt jogged toward the stairs, ignoring the numb ache that set in from kneeling so long. “Holly?”

  He charged downstairs, checking the living room, the front porch, the family room. As he neared the kitchen, he smelled the dark scent of toxic smoke. Not the fragrant scent of wood smoke from the fireplace or the telltale aroma of burning food, but the acrid, foul smoke of burning plastics and man-made fibers.

  “Holly?” he shouted, real fear tripping through him now.

  The kitchen was empty, but a haze of smoke filled the room. The smoke alarm sounded with a shrill screech that wound his nerves tighter. “Holly!”

  Matt pulled his shirt over his nose, then grabbed a towel from the sideboard and dampened it quickly in the sink. Holding the wet towel over his nose and mouth, he scanned the room, searching for the source of the smoke. Black puffs rolled under the closed door to the basement. Had Holly noticed the fire and gone downstairs?

  Matt’s pulse drummed an anxious rhythm in his chest.

  Grabbing the fire extinguisher from the pantry with one hand and holding the protective towel with his other, Matt rushed for the stairs. When he opened the basement door, he winced from the heat that slammed into him. Pulling the extinguisher pin, he hosed the flames dancing on the steps and waved futilely at the smoke clouding his vision. “Holly!”

  Leading with a spray of foam from the fire extinguisher, he headed down the steps cautiously. Despite the towel over his mouth, Matt choked on the thick smoke. He almost turned back, desperate for a clean breath. But the notion that Holly could be lost somewhere in the toxic black clouds urged him forward.

  Holly! his head screamed even though he could no longer draw enough breath to call out.

  He stumbled blindly down the last steps. Using the fire extinguisher, he doused the base of the flames until the fire sputtered out. Sinking to his hands and knees, closer to the cleaner air near the floor, he felt his way through the smoke. He groped blindly for Holly, for the door he knew was at the other side of the small landing.

  But instead of a door, he found a wooden structure. Shelves. During recent trips to the basement for tools or to bring up the Christmas decorations, Matt remembered seeing a shelving unit on the wall opposite the storage-room door.

  Had he gotten turned around in the dense smoke?

  He squinted through the haze, still groping with his hand, scooting forward on his belly. His hand bumped a large plastic container in his path, and he dragged it closer for a better look.

  A gas can. Matt’s gut tightened, but he had no time to consider all the ramifications of this find. He continued, feeling his way hand over hand, until he reached the far wall. The space where the shelves had been was empty.

  He hadn’t been disoriented. Someone had moved the shelf, blocking the storage-room door. But why?

  An eerie prickling sensation chased down his spine.

  “Holly!” he shouted, but smoke strangled his voice.

  Behind him, the embers still sizzled. Thick smoke still clogged the air, smothering him. He had little time to find Holly and get out alive.

  The need for clean air burned in his lungs, but he didn’t dare take a deep breath. Pulling himself up to his knees, he shoved the emptied shelving unit out of the way and found a door knob.

  With the towel over his mouth, he drew a shallow strangled breath, then used the protective cloth to turn the knob. Inside, he found Holly’s limp body huddled on the floor. Bile surged into his throat.

  Adrenaline and panic jolted him into action. Scrambling to his feet, he hoisted her into his arms and stumbled blindly toward the stairs.

  When his lungs seized, deplete of oxygen, he took an instinctive breath.

  Sour dense fumes clogged his throat, and he sputtered, coughed.

  He had to get Holly out. Had to get to fresh air. Had to stay conscious…just long enough to…get her outside….

  He staggered up the stairs, choking and gasping for air. In the kitchen, the smoke alarm still screamed, echoing the urgency pounding in Matt’s brain.

  He wouldn’t, couldn’t lose another woman he loved.

  His heart jolted, twisted. He was falling in love with Holly. Despite all the reasons a future with her seemed impossible.

  Somehow, acknowledging what Holly had come to mean to him gave Matt a second wind, the spurt of energy he needed to stagger with her through the mudroom.

  He shouldered the screen door open. Falling to his knees and gulping cold December air, he laid Holly on the frozen ground. Once he’d drawn another cleansing breath or three, he stumbled back to his feet. Grasping Holly under her arms, he dragged her clear of the house and did a quick check of her vitals. She had a pulse, but he didn’t detect signs of breathing.

  He patted her cheeks, trying to revive her. “Come on, honey. Hold on. Breathe for me!”

  When he got no response, his heart rose in his throat. Wasting no time, he dipped his head and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

  Matt’s heart pounded an anxious rhythm as he blew one breath after another into Holly’s lungs.

  Finally she coughed, her head rolling to the side, and she sucked in a deep breath. Relief pierced the bubble of tension squeezing Matt’s chest. He sat back on his heels and allowed her to cough again, allowed her to recover her own natural breathing rhythm, ragged though it was.

  She blinked rapidly and lifted a panic-stricken glance. “Matt…” she rasped hoarsely.

  “Shh, don’t talk. Save your breath. You’re okay now, sweetheart. You’re safe.”

  In the distance, he heard the wail of sirens, growing louder, until the volunteer firefighters drove down Holly’s driveway.

  “It started in…the basement,” he shouted to one of the men between breaths, his voice gravelly and choked from inhaled smoke.

  Firemen in their full bunker gear filed past him into Holly’s house.

  One of the firemen jogged toward him with a medical kit and dropped to his knees beside Holly. “What have we got here?”

  “She was…in the basement…where the fire started,” he gasped, his own throat raw and his lungs still clamoring for oxygen. “Don’t know how long…she was breathing smoke.”

  Combined with the gas can and the unexplained fire, the moved shelf indicated foul play, but he’d keep that tidbit to himself until the police arrived.

  As if conjured by his thoughts
, a patrol car wheeled down Holly’s driveway, kicking up gravel. Robert jumped from behind the wheel and raced over to Holly. Sending an accusatory glare toward Matt, Robert barked, “What happened?”

  “Fire. Started in the basement.”

  Robert bit out an expletive and knelt beside Holly, who breathed oxygen through the mask the EMT held over her mouth and nose. “I was on my way home when I heard 9–1–1 dispatch all first responders to Old Pine Road. I had a hunch—” He glanced around at the fire trucks and huffed. “Looks like my suspicions were right.”

  “Robert—” Matt cleared his throat and met the police officer’s gaze. “I found…a gas can downstairs.”

  Robert frowned. “You think this was arson?”

  “Worse. Storage-room door…was blocked. Someone trapped Holly.”

  Hitching his thumbs in his gun belt, Robert sat back on his heels. His expression darkened. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought Holly kicked you out.”

  Matt tensed, not wanting to get into another confrontation with Holly’s protective brother-in-law. “I was installing her new shower.”

  “I thought Jon was doing that.”

  Matt nodded. “He’s helping.”

  Robert swept a glance around the yard. “So where is he now?”

  “He had to…make a run to the hardware store.”

  Robert grunted and narrowed a suspicious gaze on Matt. “And where were you when the fire started?”

  Matt balled his hands, furious with the insinuation that he’d tried to hurt Holly and heartsick at the notion of having to defend himself from criminal allegations again. “Upstairs. In the master bathroom. Waiting for Jon to get back.”

  When Holly clamped a hand on Robert’s arm, he cut a side glance to her. With a brush of her hand, she knocked the oxygen mask away. “Matt…saved me. He got…me out.”

  Robert placed a hand over Holly’s. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t start the fire, only that he had second thoughts about killing you.”

  Matt gritted his teeth, acid roiling inside him. “Why would I want to kill Holly?”

  Robert sent him a hot glare. “Why did you kill your wife?”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Stop!” Holly cried hoarsely.

  An ambulance pulled into the driveway and parked beside Robert’s patrol car. Another EMT hopped out and jogged over to assist Holly.

  Pushed aside by the medical personnel, Robert shoved to his feet, his jaw rigid. “Holly, if Jon was at the hardware store, Randall was the only one here with you. Right?”

  Matt stiffened. That bit of circumstantial evidence looked bad for him, but clearly someone else had been there. “Jon could’ve come back. Or a neighbor came by or—”

  “Holly’s nearest neighbor is miles from here,” Robert interrupted. “And Jon has nothing to gain from killing her.”

  Matt rose to his feet and matched Robert’s challenging stance. “Neither do I!”

  “Oh, really?” Robert narrowed a menacing glare at him, and Matt bristled defensively. “Maybe you’re worried about her digging into her husband’s case against you, now that she knows who you really are.”

  Fighting to maintain his composure, to not rise to Robert’s baiting, Matt leveled his shoulders and gritted his teeth. “You’re wrong. I encouraged her to read the case files. I have nothing to hide.”

  “And yet you kept your real identity from her for weeks. What else are you hiding?”

  “Robert!”

  Holly’s hoarse cry drew both men’s attention. She struggled to her feet, wobbling and sucking air from the mask before sliding the apparatus aside to speak. “That’s enough. If you find proof…that Matt has ever tried…to hurt me, I’ll…listen. Until then—” She paused to inhale a deep breath of oxygen. “I’ve heard enough…accusations.” She coughed and replaced the mask over her nose.

  The paramedic placed a hand under Holly’s elbow to steady her. “Ma’am, I think you should go with us to the hospital to get checked out.”

  She pointed at Matt. “He should, too. He—”

  Another coughing fit seized her.

  “Sir?” The EMT turned to him, and Matt accepted the medical attention the paramedic now focused on him. If nothing else, perhaps in the ambulance, on the way to the emergency room, he’d get a chance to talk to Holly.

  He couldn’t let her believe he had anything to do with setting the fire.

  And they needed to figure out who had tried to kill her.

  By the time she was released from the hospital late that night and Jana pushed her wheelchair out toward the parking lot, Holly could barely keep her eyes open. Knowing she wasn’t seriously injured, Jon and Robert had stayed at the farmhouse, checking in with the arson team and police officers who would head up the criminal investigation. The fire damage had been limited to the basement and despite the stink of smoke, the farmhouse had been cleared for Holly’s return. Jana, however, insisted Holly spend at least the first night with her and Robert in town, and Holly had relented. She hadn’t been looking forward to being alone in the big country house, knowing someone had tried to kill her earlier today.

  But why? Why would anyone want her dead?

  “Holly?”

  Snapping her gaze up at the sound of Matt’s voice, his timbre a deep husky rasp thanks to the inhaled smoke, Holly started at the sight of him.

  “I thought you were discharged hours ago,” she said. Her throat still hurt, but her voice had returned to nearly normal.

  “I was. But I waited. I wanted to talk to you.”

  Holly angled her head to see Jana. “I know it’s late, but would you mind giving me a few minutes?”

  Jana returned a worried look. “Are you sure you feel up to it?” Then to Matt, “Couldn’t this wait? It’s been a long day for everyone.”

  “Just five minutes. Please.” His gaze beseeched her, and Holly nodded.

  After Jana stepped aside, Matt crouched in front of the wheelchair and reached for Holly’s cheek. “What did your doctor say? Are you all right?”

  Robert’s accusations rang in her ears, and she warily pulled away from his touch, even though a secret part of her longed to throw herself into his arms and hide in the solace she’d once found in his embrace. “I’ll be fine. I’ll sit out from school for a day or two and rest, just to be sure though.”

  “Good.” He exhaled deeply as if he’d been holding his breath, worrying about her, a sentiment mirrored in the tiny lines etched beside his eyes.

  The notion that Matt had been concerned about her burrowed into her with a bittersweet pang.

  “And you?” she asked.

  A corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ll live.” He sobered and leaned closer, pitching his voice softer. “Holly, there’s a lot about the fire today that bothers me. Not the least of which being the evidence that someone purposely trapped you in the basement.”

  Holly curled her fingers into her palms. “It just doesn’t make any sense. Are you sure the shelf was moved, that it didn’t just fall over?”

  “I’m positive. And there was a gas can sitting on the floor, plain as day. As if whoever did it wanted the police to know it was arson.” Matt pressed his mouth in a thin line, and Holly’s fingers itched to stroke the lips that had teased hers with sultry kisses and lifted her spirits with warm smiles.

  Swallowing hard to force down the emotions that climbed her throat, Holly met Matt’s gaze. “Why would they be so blatant? To scare me?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his already mussed hair and frowned. “I don’t know, Holly. But I’m worried about you. We need to figure out who’s doing this and why. What were you doing downstairs, anyway?”

  “That’s where I’d stored Ryan’s old case files.”

  He raised his chin, and his jaw tightened. “So you were researching my case.”

  A statement, not a question.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Does that bother you?”

  “Why should it? I’ve told you, I told Robert,
I’ll tell anyone who asks—I have nothing to hide. I didn’t kill my wife. I didn’t kill Ryan.” He cupped her cheek with his palm and drilled her with a penetrating gaze. “And I didn’t try to kill you today. I lo—” He stopped abruptly, his breath catching.

  Holly squeezed the armrests of the wheelchair, her heart thundering against her rib cage.

  Matt closed his eyes and exhaled before lifting searching, vulnerable eyes to hers. “I love you, Holly. I don’t know where we’re supposed to go from here. I still have nothing to offer you, but…the last thing I want is to hurt you. Physically or emotionally. Please believe that.”

  Jana’s footsteps signaled her approach, but Matt’s gaze never wavered. Believing Matt, losing her heart to him would be so easy. But she’d been taken in by his charm and apparent sincerity before, and he’d deceived her. The attempt on her life today changed everything. Until she knew who’d started the fire, how could she risk trusting anyone?

  What if Robert was right about Matt? Matt had been the only one at the farmhouse with her.

  “Ready to go?” Jana asked, hanging a step back.

  She held up a finger, asking Jana for one more minute, then met Matt’s expectant gaze. Her heart rose to her throat, nearly strangling her words. “I need time to sort things out. Please don’t come around the house anymore. I’ll have Jon finish the renovations.” She paused when her voice cracked. “Goodbye, Matt.”

  Chapter 15

  In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Jon eventually finished Holly’s renovations on his days off from the fire department, before turning his attention to repairing damage caused by the fire. The preliminary report from the fire marshal confirmed the fire had been an act of arson, and the police reported that the only fingerprints recovered from the gas can belonged to Matt. Holly heard through Robert that Matt had been brought in for questioning, but he’d staunchly denied responsibility for the fire. The fingerprints alone hadn’t been enough to arrest Matt, but Robert made no secret of his suspicion of Matt. Holly found it hard to believe Matt had tried to kill her, but, as Robert pointed out, no one else had the opportunity or motive.