Читать книгу Protected Hearts - Bonnie Winn K. - Страница 8

Los Angeles

Rage made the wait tolerable. As Randy watched, assistant district attorney Emily Perry finally arrived home. But the long summer day still held too much light. He needed the cover of darkness.

He’d warned her. His brother was only eighteen—too young to spend the next decade in prison. But A.D.A. Perry hadn’t let up, instead suggesting Kenny needed to be locked away. “For his own good.”

What did she know about it? With her perfect job, house and family… Sure, Ken had pulled a job with a gun, but he was just a kid. Up till then nothing on his rap sheet was felony stuff. But Perry insisted it was only a matter of time before armed robbery escalated to murder. And she didn’t care that Ken was too young to be housed with violent cons. She claimed it was the only way to turn his life around. Since Ken was too old to be sent to juvenile, she said she would recommend the safest prison possible. As though Ken could be safe in any prison. But the D.A. wouldn’t agree to probation, said Ken could be paroled in two years if he kept his nose clean. As long as D.A. Perry was around, his brother wouldn’t stand a chance.

Minutes turned to hours as night set in. Finally, the lights went out in the windows at the front of the house. Only an hour more and then he could be sure. He checked the time every few minutes, the indigo glow of his watch dial the solitary light in the car. Finally he was sure.

Emily Perry left her neighbor’s home by the back door, entering her own yard by the gate at the back that connected the two houses. She felt the lateness of the hour in the inky darkness and the fatigue that played between her shoulder blades.

Emily ran a hand through her short, dark hair. She’d stayed longer than she’d expected, but she didn’t mind donating her time to the neighborhood alliance. As legal counsel, she saved them fees that could instead be used to improve the park-and-rec center.

She rounded the garage, then headed toward the back door, hoping Tom hadn’t locked her out. She glanced at the kitchen window and paused, wondering at the brilliance of the light. It took a few moments for her senses to register the pungent, unexpected smell of smoke.

Tom! Rachel! If they were asleep…

Panicked, she ran. As she neared the house she felt the heat. Before she could reach the door, the bedroom windows exploded, spraying shards of glass. Flames belched out as the sudden supply of air fed the fire.

Screaming for Tom and Rachel, Emily grabbed the doorknob. She ignored the searing burn the hot metal pressed into her hand as she frantically tried to turn the knob. To her horror, it was locked. She spun around and raced toward the front of the house.

As Emily shouted, JoAnn and Paul Morris, her next-door neighbors, ran outside.

“Call 911!”

JoAnn rushed back inside to comply.

Another window blew, the small explosion booming in the quiet street. Heedless of the danger, Emily tried to get inside.

“Emily, no!” Paul grabbed her as she reached for the door.

“I have to get inside!” she screamed, adrenaline propelling her forward.

But Paul was stronger, holding her back.

“Rachel! Tom!” she screamed.

Acrid smoke poured from the windows, searing her lungs, stinging so badly tears poured from her eyes. Or maybe they were from crying, since sobs consumed her as rapidly as the fire that ripped through the house. And took those she loved.