by Tolsma, Liz;
“This isn’t the way. It doesn’t justify taking his life.” No matter what he’d done, he might have a family, a wife and children who needed him. “There’s been too much loss.”
“But—”
“Give me the gun.” Her hands trembled as she reached for it. In the distance, an owl hooted. The heavy mist dampened her face, chilling her to the core.
“He’ll come after us again.” Percy clung to the weapon.
She glanced at James. Blood seeped from a shoulder wound. His eyes flickered shut. The car’s headlights cast a yellow pallor on his skin. “He’s not a threat anymore.”
“Don’t bet your life on it.”
R.D. joined them in standing over James. “Be reasonable, Mrs. Dowd. It’s our lives or his.” From the creek bank, frogs croaked their warnings.
“I won’t have it. Percy will be indicted for murder.” The metallic odor of car exhaust sickened her. She swayed on her feet. All she could focus on was the gun.
Percy inched his arms down. He gazed at Cecile.
“Please, give it to me.”
“Are you sure? Eliminate James, and we’ll have one less worry.”
“We can take the weapon in case he wakes up and comes after us.”
His hands shook as he leaned forward and passed the revolver to her. The warm barrel touched her flesh, and she shivered. The weight of it tugged on her. Just a lump of metal with the potential for so much destruction.
She drew herself to her full height. “What are we standing here for? Let’s get going before he wakes up.”
They piled into the idling Cadillac, Percy in the driver’s seat, Cecile beside him. She slid the revolver under the bench, out of sight. She sucked in a few steadying breaths. They’d come so close. So close to death.
If it weren’t for leaving Millie behind, she might have welcomed it. To be rid of the world’s trials. No more pain. No more suffering.
But then she stared at Percy, who turned the car around and headed down the narrow drive. If James had killed them, what else might she have missed? The joy of loving a man again? For she did love him. No matter what he’d done in the past, she did care for him a great deal. He’d proven time and time again that he’d changed. The man she met in the hallway of the Goodwyn Institute a couple of months ago wasn’t the man that steered this car.
He was different.
So was she.
And she was ready to love once more.
Percy inched the car down the road. What there was of it.
“Hurry. Hurry.”
Percy blew out a breath. “I know. I know.”
“Where do we look?”
R.D. piped up from the backseat. “I have a feeling she isn’t far.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. Just intuition. She sent James after us. Makes sense he would bring us to her.”
Percy nodded.
Cecile tried to relax against the seat, but that proved impossible. Instead, she slid forward, her forehead almost touching the windshield. Up ahead and to the right, an orange aura danced against the soot-dark sky. A burning odor floated in through the open window. The hairs on her forearms stood on end. “Is that a fire?”
Percy didn’t even shift his attention in that direction. “Probably a hobo’s camp.”
“No, it’s bigger.”
“Cecile’s right. That’s more than a campfire.” Griggs, at least, was on her side.
Now Percy did turn. The eerie glow deepened the hallows of his eyes and cheeks. “Something’s burning. Just through the woods here.” He halted the car. They jumped out. He led the way through the bramble.
Trees, bushes, and raspberries unleashed their claws on her, scratching her legs, her arms, her face. She tripped on a half-buried root and stumbled against Percy’s back, but she stayed upright.
Without warning, the dense undergrowth thinned, and the pines gave way to a clearing. A small cabin occupied the middle of the opening, a door flanked by two windows, fronted by a halfcollapsed porch. Clouds of white smoke and angry red and orange flames burst through one of the windows.
“Help me! Help me!” A woman’s shrieks came from inside.
Percy raced forward.
“Percy!”
“I have to get her.”
Millie. If this was Miss Tann, Millie might be with her inside that house, facing those flames.
Cecile sprinted after him. They entered, smoke choking them. It was so black, they couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
“Millie! Millie!”
“I’m over here.”
Not Millie. Maybe Gladys? “Keep talking.”
The woman coughed. “Have to get to Fanny.”
“She’s here?”
“I’ve got Mrs. Knowles.” Percy’s voice came from the same direction as Gladys’s.
“Let go of me. I have to get Fanny.”
“Where is she?” Cecile had to shout to be heard over the crackle of the flames.
“In the back room.”
A wall of flames blocked the way.
A creak.
A groan.
A crash.
The ceiling fell in.
Chapter Thirty-One
Heat seared Percy’s face, the burning intense. He grabbed Mrs. Knowles. Then, with a great creak and groan, the roof caved in.
“Millie!” Cecile’s screams penetrated the roar of the fire. “Millie!”
“My Fanny, my Fanny!” Gladys’s screech rivaled Cecile’s.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“No!” the women screamed in chorus.
“We can’t get to her this way.” He gagged on the noxious fumes. “I’ll go through the back.”
“Door is locked.” Gladys fought him.
“I’ll get in. Don’t get yourself killed.” He scooped up the lithe woman and headed in Cecile’s direction. The smoke obscured his path. “Cecile!”
“Here. By the door.”
He followed the sound of her voice and bumped into her. “Out. Now!”
“Millie!”
“Out!” This was not the time for her to be stubborn. He nudged her with his elbow. She moved. He followed. Several steps, and they were outside.
Griggs climbed up the rickety porch and grabbed Mrs. Knowles from Percy’s arms.
“I’m going for Millie.”
“Fanny.” Mrs. Knowles hadn’t lost her spunk.
He raced down the steps and to the back of the house. Cecile came right on his heels. “Go back.”
“She’s my daughter.”
What if they found Millie but not alive? She didn’t need to see that. “Don’t risk your life.”
“You are.”
They were wasting precious seconds. “I don’t want you hurt.”
She pushed by him. He caught her and flung her to the side. Like Gladys said, the door was locked. He took three steps backward then kicked with all his might. Nothing. He kicked again. A small budge. A slight crack. One more kick. With a crash, the door gave way. Heat rushed at him, propelling him away. He fought his way forward.
Cecile was at his side. “Millie! Millie! Millie!”
Each of her cries was answered by nothing but the whoosh of flames. He flung off his jacket and tossed it to her. He covered his mouth with his shirt sleeve. He pressed on, but the heat intensified. His eyelashes were singed. “Can’t keep going.”
“Have to.” Cecile coughed, her words weak.
“Not here.”
“Gladys said.”
Total darkness covered him. He couldn’t find anyone, and his skin was blistering.
He pivoted. “Must leave.”
“No! No! My baby!”
As with Gladys, he picked up Cecile and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. She beat his back. Every blow hurt because he was already bruised.
They burst through the door. He gulped fresh air as he dropped Cecile to her feet. He bent over, gasping to breathe.
/> Cecile sputtered. Wheezed. He rubbed her back. Tears ran in rivulets down her soot-stained face. “Millie. God, where is she?” She fell to her knees.
He knelt beside her. “Not in there. She would have answered. Would have called to you.”
“She’s gone.” The whisper barely reached his ears.
“No. Don’t think that. Don’t give up. We’ll find her. We will.”
For a few moments, he allowed her to grieve. To release her fear. To calm herself.
She gazed at him, nothing but questions and confusion in her eyes.
“Believe. God takes care of His own.”
“He does. Yes, He does.” She spoke as if comforting herself.
He kissed her temple, her hair smoky. “Let’s go to the others. Maybe Tann is there with Millie.”
She widened her watery eyes. “Maybe?”
“Could be.” He lifted her to her feet and clasped her by the hand as they rounded the cabin. They came into view of the others. Griggs stood with Mrs. Knowles at the edge of the clearing, both intent on the disaster in front of them. Another figure kept watch closer to the house. A larger, rounder person. The light from the flames illuminated her face. Miss Tann.
Cecile must have realized who it was at the same moment he did. She lunged forward at Tann, knocking her over and sitting on top of her. “Where’s my daughter?”
“Get off me.” Tann flailed and writhed.
“Not until you give me Millie.” Cecile pinned down Tann’s beefy arms.
“Never.”
“Is she in there?”
“Yes, yes!”
Cecile released the woman, leaped up, and headed for the burning cabin.
Percy caught her by the collar. “No! You can’t get to her.” Flames now burst through the back of the house.
“But my baby. My baby.”
He held her fast. “It’s too late.” Just a little too late. Maybe no more than a few minutes. All this effort, all this time, all this hope. For naught.
“No! No!”
He embraced her. Every muscle in her body was taut. “I’m so, so sorry.” He stroked her hair, a cloud of ashes snowing from it.
She broke free and returned to Tann, who had struggled to sit. “You killed my child.” The ice in Cecile’s cold words could have extinguished the fire. “There is a special place in the afterworld for people like you.”
Tann scooted back, and she rose. Was she going to try to escape?
Percy turned to Griggs. “Don’t let her get away. Where’s the gun?”
Cecile stood nose to nose with Tann. “In the car.”
His heart hammered. “I’ll get it.”
From the shadows, a silhouette appeared beside Cecile.
The cock of a pistol.
“No one is going anywhere.”
At the click of a gun, Gladys flinched. A sound she’d heard too often. One that haunted her at night. In that moment, time froze. Like she watched a talking picture show set too slow. Even the voices were distorted, low and blurred, like when the film in the projector was breaking.
The fire burned, but not with the same fierceness as before. The flames performed a slow dance in the skeleton of the building.
“No one is going anywhere.” James pointed a pistol at Miz Dowd and winced. Blood dripped from a shoulder wound.
Behind her, Mr. Griggs shouted, “We should have killed him! We should have killed him! I told you so.”
She inched forward, closer to the action.
All color had drained from Miz Dowd’s face. She was as white as the cotton in Willard’s field and about as wilted as it got in a summer’s drought. “My baby’s dead! You killed her!”
Cold raced down Gladys’s spine. That couldn’t be. Fanny couldn’t be gone. Not that poor child. Not that sweet girl.
“I’m glad of it.” Miss Tann sidled next to James.
A sob broke from Gladys’s throat. Her head pounded. Her ankle throbbed. She closed her eyes. Saw Fanny in the flames. Fighting. Falling. Flying away. Leaving Gladys alone. Utterly alone.
She could never return to Willard. Even without Fanny, she never would. She could never be used and abused in such a manner. Perhaps she would sneak back and get Quinn. He shouldn’t have to live like that either.
The flames had consumed the one good thing in her life. From the corner of her eye, Gladys caught sight of Mr. Vance moving around the back of the cabin. Was he going to try to get in once more? See if Fanny was truly dead?
She limped after him, trying to stay on her tiptoes. Leaves crunched under feet. He spun around, motioned her back. She shook her head.
He nodded and came her way. “I have to sneak behind him.” He hissed his words. “If you’re with me, that’s too much chance of getting caught. They might already realize we’re gone. Go back.”
With a lump in her throat, she obeyed his command. What good was she going to do him, anyway? If only she could help, do something, anything to make Miss Tann and the people involved pay for what they did to an innocent child. They had so much blood on their hands. It was a wonder they weren’t permanently stained. Maybe they were, and Gladys hadn’t noticed.
She returned to the front of the cabin. James held the gun trained on Cecile’s temple with both hands. He shook. That shoulder wound had to be bothering him, hampering him. Perhaps that would give Percy a chance to overpower him. Get the gun away before anyone got hurt.
Movement came from behind James. It must be Percy. Gladys held her breath. Her pulse pounded in her neck. A breeze stirred the mist. Percy lost his cover.
“Just pull the trigger, and get it over with.” Miss Tann spoke with all the emotion one would have if giving directions to wrap up rotten fish and dispose of it.
James trembled from head to toe. Maybe he’d pass out.
Percy wasn’t far behind him now.
James blinked once, twice, three times.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, if you can’t do it, give me the gun.” Miss Tann spun a quarter of a turn. And spied Percy. She yanked the pistol from James and pointed it at Miz Dowd. Percy pushed James to the side.
Gladys shot forward. She had to get Miz Dowd out of the way. An ear-splitting crack rang out. There was a firework-like bang and a flash of light. In her midsection, there was a tugging, pulling sensation. No pain. Just release. Sweet release.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The retort of the pistol rang in Cecile’s head. Before her eyes, Gladys crumpled to the ground. A ring of crimson spread from the middle of her chest. She gurgled a few times then fell silent.
Percy bounded forward but missed tackling James. He grabbed Miss Tann by the upper arm and squeezed hard. She dropped the gun. Mr. Griggs scooped up the weapon.
James and Miss Tann headed for the thicket. Griggs fired and missed. He gave chase, but the forest swallowed them.
Cecile slumped to the earth, the silty dirt sticky with Gladys’s blood. Covering her head, Cecile wailed. It was all too much. Too much loss. Too much grief. Too much burden to bear.
How could she go on without her beloved daughter? It had been hard enough to be separated from her, but at least she had the hope that Millie was alive and well somewhere in the world. Now, in a single stroke, Miss Tann had extinguished that hope.
Percy knelt beside her. “God, why did it have to come to this?” He breathed the prayerful question. “She gave up her life to save yours, Cecile.”
She wiped away a tear, even though another one took its place. “Despite how she came into Millie’s life, she loved my little girl. Loved her like her own. And when she knew Millie was gone, there wasn’t anything left to live for.”
Percy drew her close, and she nestled into his shoulder. His bare shoulder, his shirt torn and his jacket lost in the fire’s commotion, his skin smooth and cool. “Just cry. Let it out.”
“If I start, I might not stop.”
“I’ll be here.”
And so she opened the floodgates and allowed the dam to burst. Gr
eat, wracking, heaving sobs exploded from the depths of her soul. The full weight of her loss settled on her shoulders. Millie was part of her. Flesh and blood. Half of herself, half of Nathaniel. Together, a whole new little life. Cecile hadn’t lost someone she loved. She’d lost a piece of her very being. Without Nathaniel, without Millie, the puzzle would never be complete. What was the point in finishing it?
“I’m here. I’m here.” Percy. Solid. Steady. Sure. A safe place, someone to lean on. Depend on. “And God is here.”
God. Millie was seeing Him face to face now. For her daughter, there was no more pain or suffering. No more cruelty. No more fear. All her troubles had ended. Perhaps she bowed before the Lamb’s throne next to Nathaniel. How happy they must be. Part of her family was together. Whole and complete. Unblemished.
With that thought, her weeping slowed, her tears not a rushing river but a trickling creek. She even managed a small laugh. “She’s perfect.”
“I know she was.”
“No, not in this life.” She turned up the corners of her mouth. “She was an imp. A little scamp. Funny and fun-loving, but a girl with a mind of her own. In heaven, she’s perfect. Nathaniel doesn’t have to scold her.”
Percy’s shoulders shook. “That’s beautiful.”
“I’m so sad. This pain is horrible. Horrendous. Worse than losing Nathaniel. But I only grieve for myself. Not for her. Because she’s with both her fathers. With Nathaniel. And with her loving heavenly Father.”
Throughout the long night, Percy held her. He spoke soft, soothing melodies into her ear. The words weren’t important. Just that he was here with her.
The crackle of the fire diminished and ceased. Wisps of smoke emanated from the blackened remains of the cabin.
The simple, repetitive songs of a cardinal broke the predawn hush. Right on cue, the world came to life again. Maybe someday Cecile would too.
As morning dawned, her cries subsided into hiccups. Once the sun had broken free from the hold of the trees, Cecile eased back from Percy’s embrace. He wiped her eyes with his handkerchief. “I’m going to owe you a new box of them.”
“I wish I could do more.”
“Just stay with me. That’s all I ask.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He hesitated, as if wanting to say more but not sure how to go about it.