Читать книгу On Fire - Jan Hambright - Страница 10

Kade tried to force up the sliding glass door latch, but it was melted in place. It proved one thing. His mom had been locked out when the fire started.

Relief coursed through his veins as he turned back into the charred apartment where the arsonist had left his mark in the middle of the room. A point of origin that had dropped from the ceiling onto a tile. Too bad the intense heat had destroyed the incendiary device itself, leaving him little to go on.

Fear worked its way into his mind. His mother’s home had been targeted, but had she? Most firebugs didn’t give away get-out-of-fire-free cards or lock their victims out of a fire.

Don Watson from the crime lab entered the apartment with his kit. “Want that door?”

“Yeah. The lock mechanism is of particular interest. My mom claims when she tried it from the outside, it was locked. The fire started not long after that. I want to know if it failed, or if someone intentionally pushed the lever down.”

“You got it.”

Kade made his way through the apartment, flicking his flashlight beam over every inch. Most of the items he remembered from his childhood were here, covered with soot and water, a total loss.

Was Alice Decker the target or a random victim? Frustration threaded through him, stitching up a solution he could live with. He wouldn’t take risks with her safety; he wanted her to leave town, go to visit relatives, get as far away from Montgomery as she could until he figured this out and put the arsonist behind bars.

He paused at his mom’s bedroom door and shined the light inside. The beam swept across her bed, and surprise squeezed in his chest. He pulled the beam back to the bed where a long lump lay with the covers pulled over it. His mom’s full-length body pillow. A therapeutic apparatus she used to support her limbs when she lay on her side.

Had the arsonist mistaken the lump for Alice Decker?

Fear twisted around his nerves, giving voice to his self-doubt. He couldn’t afford to screw this up.

“Hey, Decker. The door’s open.”

Kade turned off his flashlight and returned to the living room. “What’s it look like inside?”

“Broken. When your mom closed it, the latch dropped, locking her out. It’s missing the spring that holds the latch up.”

“That failure saved her life. Whoever started this fire thought she was in bed. He or she had no way of knowing Mom was on the balcony when the fire took off. Let’s dust. Maybe a print survived the inferno, and I want to access the attic.”

“Will do.”

Kade leaned on his cane and took a deep breath, but he couldn’t relax, couldn’t pull it together when there was a maniac out there setting fires. But how was his mom involved? Was she a random target? In the right place at the wrong time?

He studied the burn pattern in the middle of the living room floor. “Did you find anything left here?”

“Nothing readily visible, but there was a clump of fibrous material.” Watson shuffled around in his collection kit and pulled out a clear plastic bag. “It could be part of the melted carpet, or the ceiling tile, but it stayed intact. I’m going to analyze it under the microscope, get a look at the weave pattern to determine what it is.”

Kade took the bag and held it up to the light coming in through the open sliding glass door. The clump of fiber was knitted together in a circular pattern.

“Looks like a filter.” He held the bag out for Watson to inspect.

Don turned on his flashlight and examined the evidence. “You’re right. It could be what’s left of a cigarette filter. That could be evidence of an incendiary device. I’ll run it through the tests, get something definitive.”

“Thanks.” Kade took one last look around the burned-out room and hobbled to the door. His hip was killing him. He needed to slam back a couple of pain meds to survive the afternoon.

The search warrant for Savannah Dawson’s house would be coming down within the hour, and he wanted to be there when it was executed.

SAVANNAH GLANCED UP from her notepad and considered the patient sitting across the desk from her, but her attention sagged as he blew his nose on a tissue.

“I’m sorry this upsets you, George, but you need to come to terms with the breakup. Once you let the painful memories go, you can begin to heal.”

“I know, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. She meant so much to me.”

She pushed the box of Kleenex toward him. He pulled out two more and dabbed at his nose.

Changing the subject might get them past George’s tearful stage, something that happened at the beginning of each session, but today it had gone on too long. She’d have to properly analyze it, maybe contact a colleague and get his take.

George had an extreme obsessive personality and trouble controlling his compulsions. It was one of the worst cases she’d ever encountered, but he was making progress, she thought.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s our time for today. Have Charlene make you an appointment for next week at our regular time, and I’m sorry I missed our 10:00 a.m. yesterday.”

He reluctantly got up from the chair. “I should come to see you more often.”

Savannah stood up. “More problems?”

He dropped his gaze, then looked up again. “I like you. You make me feel comfortable and understood. You’ve helped me get through this tough time in my life.”

“Two hours a week is sufficient. You’re making wonderful progress.”

George Welte nodded his head, moseyed to the door and gave her one last glance over the top of his thick glasses before he slid out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Savannah sat back down in her chair, her mind absent. She was no good to her patients or herself in this state. Since surrendering her nightgown, robe and slippers at the police station last night, she hadn’t been able to get Kade Decker off her mind. He was like a CD looped out on the same song, and she couldn’t stop playing him. Then there was the search warrant, probably being executed at this very moment. A physical manifestation of his mental determination to prove her guilt.

She chewed her bottom lip and considered what they’d find. Lighter fluid was a given. In the garage, outside on the patio next to the barbecue. Nothing could be read into it; half the residents of the city could be suspects if he chose to focus on lighter fluid.

Fear raked her nerves. She’d felt his determination, been infused with his surety of her guilt, but there was a boundary there, too. A level of integrity that encompassed everything he said and did. She’d just have to let the lack of evidence confirm it for him.

She stood up and gazed out the third-story window at the rear parking lot below.

The heat outside was suffocating, the index off the charts. A watery sheen of vapor flamed up from the asphalt.

She watched George Welte walk to his red Mercedes coupe, climb inside and drive away.

If only she could shut Kade out, turn off the receptors inside her head, maybe she could get some peace. Her only other option was to deal with it. Figure it out. Find the catalyst for their connection. It had to be buried somewhere in the past. Maybe it was time for a resurrection.

She pushed the button on her intercom. “Charlene? Could you come in here for a moment?”

The door pushed open and her secretary entered.

“What’s my afternoon look like?”

“You’ve got a three o’clock and a five.”

“Call them and reschedule for next Monday.”

“Sure.” Charlene disappeared back into the outer office, leaving her with a tangle of thoughts to sort out.

She’d never shared a psychic bond like the one she was currently sharing with Kade Decker. But how had it happened? She’d never met him before yesterday, and suddenly they were locked in some sort of cosmic union. Fused in thought and feeling, while he sucked the energy from her body every time they touched.

“Damn.” She was beginning to scare herself, and just when she thought she had this psychic thing wired, laced up in a neat little package that she could control and understand.

She plopped into her chair, rocked back, closed her eyes and concentrated, practicing a form of self-hypnosis she’d shared with many of her patients.

Like a silent movie playing in her head, she perused the last forty-eight hours. Gradually, her thoughts pushed farther and farther back until an image slammed into her brain.

She bolted forward, excitement churning her insides, spinning off snippets of detail long forgotten.

Her hand shook as she grabbed her purse out of the desk drawer, left the office and headed for a rendezvous with an ancient memory.

SAVANNAH DROVE into the old section of town, past rows of mature oaks and old row houses.

She hadn’t been back since she’d been removed by protective services on April 18th. Twenty-eight years ago.

Summoning her courage, she turned onto Palm Street and slowed her speed, taking in the sensation of familiarity that teased her nerves and edged her into the past.

A past that had been wonderful up to a point, the point where everything had changed and her destiny had spun out of control.

The house still belonged to her. Her mother had left it to her after she died, but it had been used as a rental ever since.

According to the agency, there was a new tenant moving in, but she hoped he wasn’t there yet.

She pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

A lump squeezed in her stomach. She felt tears sting the backs of her eyes, remembering the frightened little girl she’d once been.

Breathing through the moment, she climbed out of the car, letting the memories consume her as she stepped onto the cracked cement.

Some were happy. Peddling her bike, listening to the click-clack of the cracks under her tires. Doing cartwheels and somersaults until she collapsed in exhaustion.

Then it had all ended, and hell began.

She pushed the painful images aside and headed for the backyard.

Her mood lightened as she walked around to the side of the house, intent on the memory she’d rousted half an hour ago.

The gate squeaked open, and she stepped through into the neglected yard.

The ghosts from her past were all here, resting comfortably.

She let the spring-loaded gate slap shut, moving along the fence, raking her fingertips over the rough board slats before stopping three-quarters of the way down the fence line.

This was the spot, she decided as she knelt down in the warm grass. The very spot where she and Kade’s lives had become intertwined. The how, she knew, but the why was much more illusive.

The four-inch knothole near the bottom of the board was weathered but just as she remembered it, only lower to the ground.

She’d been five years old that year. The year the boy next door had become her only friend. The only child on the block who didn’t think she was a freak, with a crazy lady for a mother. The memory was poignant and drove sadness into her heart.

She crouched down on all fours, ringed the knot with her finger and put her eye to the hole like she’d done as a child.

The yard next door looked the same. Short chopped grass, well kept. Abundant flowerbeds teaming with gladiolas, iris and snapdragons. Stuck in a time warp, like her wardrobe, she decided as she stared at the same set of urns flanking the back patio and overflowing with bright fuchsia petunias.

A wind chime tinkled, challenged by the hint of breeze stirring the muggy July air.

Sweat crept from her hairline at the nape of her neck and tickled down her back, but she was mesmerized. Glued to the past.

A shadow descended on the other side of the fence, and the tiny portal was blocked.

She swallowed, staring back at the hazel eye gazing at her through the knothole. The iris was ringed by tiny golden flecks, the color as smooth as dark honey.

“Savannah?” Kade’s voice cut into her hearing and she froze. Swaddled in the fabric of time. Transported back to the single thing that had joined them for twenty-eight years.

A kids’ game. An equal exchange of DNA. The origin of their psychic connection.

Blood brothers.

“Kade.” She swallowed and pulled back, relief liquefying in her veins. She wasn’t crazy; she was perfectly sane.

“Stay put, I’m coming over.”

She stood up, waiting for him, glad when the gate opened and he limped toward her, cane in hand.

“When did you figure it out?” he asked, stopping next to her.

“An hour ago.”

“I knew last night, the minute I saw your eyes. I’ve never forgotten them. I verified your name with my mom. She’s got a memory like an elephant. Reminded me of the whole story.”

He touched her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her. She looked up into his face, as if seeing him for the first time.

The boy she remembered had turned into a man. His dominant features were still there. A distinct jawline, expressive eyes, but time and some sort of tragedy had changed his insides.

“Which story would that be? There are so many.” A hint of discomfort jabbed her heart as she swallowed her anticipation. Her memories of that day were cloudy; maybe his could help to drive the fog away.

“Children’s services came and took you. Mom remembered the insignia on the car…then someone from the state came for your mother.”

Sorrow, deep and raw, penetrated her soul. She’d been given the information by her adoptive parents. It had been so long ago that the story had lost its edge, but hearing Kade describe it brought it all back.

“They said she was crazy, that she couldn’t handle raising a child. But they were wrong. She was psychic, not mental. Did she fight? Did she struggle to stay?”

“I don’t know.”

Savannah hung her head, haunted by the whispers of the past. The despair she’d felt, the confusion and loneliness.

“What happened to her after they took her?”

His concern wrapped around her; she could feel it like a caress. “She died several years later in a mental institution. I was adopted by the Dawsons, and here I am.” She’d left out a dark decade, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing there she cared to revisit.

“You still own this place?”

“Yeah. My mom left it to me. It’s a rental right now. What about your house?”

“My mom’s place is going on the market…well, it was until the fire. She’s back until she finds another apartment building.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. It’s home.”

“Do you remember doing it?”

He hung his head, then looked up. “I remember the jolt, and I think I supplied the razor blade and you brought the Band-Aids.”

She had to smile now as she pulled the full memory into focus. The trouble she’d had slicing into her own finger without flinching, being shocked when blood oozed out of the cut. Feeling a wondrous sense of belonging as they locked their fingers together, mixing their blood and making a promise to one another. “A couple of silly kids trying to stay linked forever.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

She swallowed, overcome with emotion, lost in the odd sensation generating between them. “Yeah, better than we could have imagined, but I’m not sure I like free passage on your train of thought.”

“And you think it’s a thrill ride for me? I’m new at this. What do you say we get a cold drink and you give me some pointers on mind reading?”

“I’d like that.” She let him take her elbow and steer her toward the gate. It took everything she had, but she put up a mental wall between them. She didn’t want to know his thoughts and feelings about that day before he verbalized them. She wanted it fresh, she wanted to hear them firsthand.

When they reached the gate, he pulled her up short and stared down into her face. “All I want to know is why you hide the color of your eyes.”

“It keeps people from freaking out. I got tired of the stares. It was easier to disguise them with brown contacts than to take the gasps of horror, like I was some sort of demon child from the Village of the Damned, able to melt small children with a single glare.”

“I understand. If I remember right, they matched my best cleary marble. I always thought they were cool, but it wasn’t something I could explain to my buddies. They would have kicked me out of the fort.”

“Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Let me get my purse and lock my car.”

Kade held the gate open and followed her into the driveway, enjoying the sway of her hips, but the sightseeing ended when he spotted a pickup truck parked across the street and watched a lanky man climb out and move in their direction.

“Oh, no!”

“What is it?” He refocused on Savannah.

“It’s gone! My purse is gone.” Disappointment choked her voice.

“You’re sure you didn’t take it into the yard?”

“Yes.”

He took her arm. “Let’s call the police. File a report. The sooner you cancel your credit cards, the better.”

“Hi. Are you the landlord?”

Kade glanced up at the man who’d walked across the street and now stood in the driveway next to them.

“No. I think you want Ms. Dawson.”

“If she owns this yellow house, then I guess I do.”

He didn’t like the way the man devoured Savannah with his gaze or the satisfied smile that followed.

“Ms. Dawson, I’m Todd Coleman, your new tenant.”

Savannah looked up at the jean-clad man addressing her and offering his hand. She shook it, momentarily forgetting her missing purse and key ring.

“Doctor Savannah Dawson. Pleased to meet you, but I don’t have a key. You’ll have to stop by the rental agency for that.”

“Done.” He pulled a key out of his pocket. “Picked it up this morning. This is a great place. I knew I had to have it the first time I saw it.”

“You’re planning to move in today?”

“Yeah.”

Kade felt caution sluice in his veins, but he couldn’t locate a source for the feeling. Savannah’s new tenant was slick, and he wasn’t sure that there wasn’t some jealousy mixed in with his concern.

“Great…Mr. Coleman, is it?” Kade eyed him tentatively.

“Yeah.”

“Any chance you saw someone around Ms. Dawson’s car in the last ten minutes?”

Kade gauged his reaction, but he had a poker face under a layer of tanned skin.

“As a matter of fact, I did see a guy hanging around. I think he was driving a red car…high-end. Why? What’s the problem?”

“Ms. Dawson’s purse has been stolen.”

“Damn. That’s tough.”

The reaction sounded genuine and Kade relaxed, letting go of his caution.

“I see you work for the fire department. Are you a fireman?” Coleman pointed at the insignia on the department vehicle parked in the driveway next door.

“I used to be.” Disappointment gelled in his veins. “I’m an arson investigator now.”

“That’s cool. You don’t get to race into burning buildings anymore, but you get to figure out who torched them?”

“Something like that.”

“I always wanted to get on with the department.”

“Really.” Kade studied Coleman’s frame. “You should look into it. The department can always use new recruits. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to call the police and file a report.”

“If you need me to tell the cops what I saw, you know where to find me.”

“I have a spare key at home. I’ll get my car out of the driveway later today,” Savannah said.

“No problem.” Todd Coleman turned toward the street.

Kade took Savannah’s elbow and walked her toward his house. He could feel Coleman’s eyes on his back, but he resisted the urge to turn around. Instead, he zoned on the feel of his fingers against her bare skin, absorbing the odd transfer of current from her body into his.

That’s when it hit him. He was walking normally. The pain in his hip had subsided.

She wasn’t only psychic—she was a living, breathing, pain annihilator.

HE BRUSHED HIS HAND across the pillow and closed his eyes, imagining her head on it, her hair fanned out in contrast against the crisp white linen.

Pulling in a deep breath, he honed in on her scent in the room, her room, a place he’d been many times…but never with her. Breaking in felt so wrong, but he knew where the spare key was.

He sobered, opened his eyes and tamped down the irritation flaring in his veins.

She would come to care for him. He already knew her secret. Coaxed it, fed it. Her affection couldn’t be far behind.

His heart drummed in his chest as he wandered into the bathroom, bent on somehow telling her, making her understand the flames were for her.

Then it would only be a matter of time before she recognized how much he wanted her. She would return his love. Lie in his arms until dawn penetrated the night….