Walk Through the Fire (Finley Creek Book 10)

by Calle J. Brookes

  “No kidding.” Turner had received six threats since the day the two thugs had attacked him in his own driveway. And he was almost certain he’d been followed twice since. “They’re out there, trying to intimidate me. I just don’t know if it’s because of this asshole ring or because of the Boethe Street Initiative. Or next year’s election. Neither one of those projects are making me any friends.”

  “Except for sweet little Annie Gaines. I heard all about what she said that night in your defense.” Elliot’s expression was rueful. “Her sister told Syd, Syd told Mel, Mel told Jillian, Jillian told Brynna, and Brynna told Gabby…”

  Turner just gawked at the other man. Hell, Elliot was serious. “They played the telephone game?”

  “Texted, I believe.” Elliot just shook his head. “Annie’s a close friend of Gabby’s, Turner. They all keep close tabs on each other, the women of W4HAV. They say it’s a safety thing; and I completely agree. But we have other things to worry about.”

  Turner nodded. It was time to get started.

  He’d deal with what was going on between him and Annie later. Right now, they had to figure out what had happened to Jake MacNamara.

  78

  Turner looked good in the papers and good on the news. Annie spent most of her lunch struggling to look away from the breakroom television in the small hospital as the mayor finished up another press conference in reference to the latest bust Elliot’s Major Crimes unit had made that morning.

  Daniel McKellen was in the background directing things, looking as tall, dark, and handsome as ever.

  Just as attractive as the mayor, but her hands didn’t slick with nerves when Daniel looked at the screen. Her heart didn’t race when the camera panned in for a close-up on Daniel’s face like it did when Turner’s face filled the screen.

  She was being a total doofus over that man.

  And he wasn’t even in the same building.

  One kiss on her front porch, and she hadn’t been able to forget the man. Even with all she had to do, to deal with right now.

  Half her living room was in boxes.

  And she had to explain—yet again—to three little boys what moving meant.

  Two of the boxes had been “unpacked” by the time she got home the night before.

  Josie just shrugged at her, a harried look on her pretty face, as she’d wiped Solomon’s face—removing something Annie couldn’t quite identify. Syrus was crying, wanting his mother to hold him.

  Annie quickly obliged, swinging her youngest baby into her arms. “What’s going on?”

  “World War Three, Gaines-style.” Her sister rolled her eyes then stood. “I got to get going. I have a date.”

  “Nice. Who with?”

  “Not telling—”

  Pounding on the door interrupted. Annie and Josie stared at each other. This…people didn’t pound on their door for a lack of good reason. She passed Syrus back to her sister. “Take the kids into the kitchen.”

  The room furthest from the door. From the threat.

  Seemed her life had always been one of awareness of the threat. Of standing between the ones she loved and whatever was coming. The pounding came even harder. Annie hurried to the front door.

  “Annie! Harley’s house is on fire. We need to get out of here. Now.” Her next-door neighbor from the house on the left—Gia, a woman a few years older than Annie—was in tears. Her six-month-old baby Isla fussed in her arms.

  The neighborhood was cloaked in the scent of fire.

  Annie looked at Harley’s house, the one directly on the left of Gia’s.

  Flames shot out of the roof.

  “I can’t call the fire department,” Gia hiccupped. “I had my phone shut off. I can’t pay the bill.”

  Gia didn’t have a cell phone for the same reason. She’d borrowed Annie’s phone many times.

  Annie looked toward the kitchen.

  Josie was already on the phone; she nodded at Annie.

  When she disconnected, she grabbed Syrus where he was fussing.

  Annie made the decision immediately.

  “We need to get out of here. Our houses are too close together. Josie, take the baby. Let’s go. Gia…”

  “I’m taking my car and going to my sister’s in Wichita Falls. I…I’m going to stay with her until I can find a place to live. I just have a few things left to pack.”

  “Go. And give me your sister’s number when you get settled.” Annie hugged the other woman quickly.

  Then she grabbed her middle son and stepped outside.

  79

  Fifteen minutes after Josie made the call, Annie clutched the boys as closely as she possibly could. Smoke was everywhere. And the glow from the fire illuminated everything. A fireman motioned her to the end of the block. The houses on Boethe Street were so close together…they’d be like tinder to the flame.

  A spark could spread the fire to any of the houses nearby. Including her own.

  “Josie, keep the boys out here.” She had stuff inside her house. Paperwork she couldn’t afford to lose. Her copy of the boys’ file from social services—there was only one copy, and she’d just gotten it recently. She’d meant to scan it into her computer before the adoption, but she hadn’t had time yet. She couldn’t afford to lose anything. “I’m going inside to grab the important documents. Get the boys up the street. I’ll meet you there.”

  She handed Syrus to Josie, over her sister’s protests. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  “Please be careful. They said they’re going to evacuate the next two blocks soon.” Josie clutched Syrus close and held Seeley’s hand. Solomon held onto her yoga pants. All three boys were looking around with fear on their little faces. Annie wanted to scoop her children up and hold them as close as possible. Protect them.

  She never wanted her children to be afraid of anything.

  “I’ll hurry.” It took her ten minutes to grab what she needed. She’d been afraid of fire in the old house for years. She’d learned to keep important papers, her keys, and some spare cash where she could grab it quickly long ago. Everything else she wanted she threw in the laundry baskets nearby.

  When she came back out, the TSP and the fire responders were herding the crowd down the road.

  And she couldn’t find her children or her sister anywhere.

  “Annie! Annie!” A man grabbed her arm and turned her quickly. For a moment she didn’t recognize him.

  When she did, she cried out. “Jake! Thank God!”

  She’d been so convinced the men who had hurt Delancey McKellen had killed him.

  “Hey, sweetie. I sent your sister and the kids to the Barratt with my partner.”

  “Where have you been? Iz—”

  “I heard. I just got back from an undercover a few hours ago. The mayor had the chief find me as soon as they could.” He put both hands on her cheeks. “Get to the Barratt. I’ll head to the hospital as soon as I can.”

  “My house, Jake...” Two houses down. The fire was only two houses down.

  “It’s only things, kid. Remember that. Now, get out of here.”

  He motioned to a young deputy nearby, one who looked familiar. “Officer Eugent, get her to the Barratt as soon as you can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  80

  When she walked into the Barratt, she was shivering and cold and worried. Annie only had eighty dollars emergency cash right now. Everything else was tied up in attorney’s fees for the adoption and getting the utilities on the new house switched into her name. There was no way she could afford to stay at the Barratt. Even for one night. She could break out the credit card, but she didn’t even know if it was still active.

  She was going to gather the kids and take them...somewhere. She didn’t know where yet. Josie’s dorm room was out of the question.

  When she found the boys and Josie, she was going to have to call Nikkie Jean. Or Lacy. There were still beds at Lacy’s ranch. They were twin beds; she could put the older boys each in one b
ed, and she and Syrus could take the queen that had been Lacy’s.

  Lacy and her husband were moving Lacy’s furniture out this week to make room for Annie’s.

  She just didn’t know if the power or water were on yet.

  There was no way she could take three boys to a house without air conditioning. They’d be holy terrors if she even tried.

  Annie might just have to make do.

  Or call Nikkie Jean. That was probably her best option. Get the boys, then make the thirty-plus minute drive to Nikkie Jean’s.

  She shivered again. She smelled like smoke. She had only had enough time to grab a single laundry basket full of the boys’ clothes and a smaller bag of her own things. It would have to do. They’d be able to go home in the morning. Once the fires were out and there weren’t fire trucks everywhere, or sirens going off.

  She grabbed her phone and texted her sister. Josie was never without her phone.

  Her boys loose in the Barratt Hotel with just Josie to supervise them—that was a nightmare, or an international incident, waiting to happen. And Josie had plans for early in the morning. On top of whatever date she was missing now.

  Annie found them in the lobby. Josie stood talking to a woman Annie recognized.

  Mel held out a hand toward her. “Hey, sweetie, having a rough night?”

  “You might say that.” She’d never felt so awkward as she did in that moment, standing in one of the most luxurious hotels in Finley Creek, with just a battered dollar-store laundry basket full of her little boys’ clothes in her hands. “I need to get the boys and go...somewhere.”

  “Nonsense. I have four hundred rooms,” Mel’s husband said. He sent her a grin that was eerily like the mayor’s. “Plenty of them to go around.”

  “I...” She wasn’t about to admit it, but she didn’t doubt Mel already knew. “It’s a bit out of our budget right now.”

  Honesty had to win out over pride, every time.

  “I don’t charge friends when they need help,” Houghton said firmly. “It’s a weeknight, and it’s late. I have more than half this place empty. People have moved out after the storm in droves. I have a floor—penthouse level—that is reserved just for family. You’re more than welcome to take one of the suites near ours. We’re staying here tonight ourselves. I have an early meeting, and Mel is expecting guests from St. Louis.”

  “I won’t hear a word in protest,” Mel said, patting her on the shoulder. “Only one of Houghton’s cousins is here now. There’s plenty of room. And Sid...Sid seems to have a permanent room here anymore.”

  “I...” Houghton had walked away, to the front desk. Annie looked at Mel. “I can’t afford even one night here, Mel. Every penny I had saved...medical leave...attorney’s fees.”

  She’d hired the most expensive adoption attorney in the region—mostly to keep her mother from being able to fight the adoption. But that had eaten into every penny Annie had managed to save for the last ten years.

  She was literally down to her last extra eighty dollars right now.

  “It’s not wrong to accept help from the people who care about you,” Mel said, firmly. “The rooms are available, just sitting there empty. Take your children, and get some rest. Do you have to work tomorrow?”

  “Not until eleven.” She was only working a half-shift tomorrow, at least.

  “Then sleep in a little, Ann. You need the break.”

  The Barratt it was going to have to be. Annie found herself nodding. “I’ll pay you back some day, Mel. I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. In the meantime, friends take care of each other, Annie. So…get your little monsters, and let’s get them to bed, ok?”

  Mel held out her free hand to her. Annie squeezed her friend’s hand in return.

  Mel and Houghton were going to help her get through tonight, making it just a little easier. She knew her own failings—accepting help when it was offered was always going to be difficult for her. She was trying to get better at that.

  She could never express in words just how much that meant.

  81

  Turner was slipping his key card—irritated at his cousin Mac at the delays in fixing Turner’s roof—into the lock on his suite at the Barratt, when he heard little feet on a carpeted rug.

  There weren’t any children in his generation of Barratts. And since this was the family wing, his natural sense of curiosity had him turning.

  A familiar redhead—one of his favorite redheads, at that—was limping up the hallway toward the suite she shared with her dork of a husband. Mel was such a pretty woman; Turner was half in love with her. Mel was the kind of woman a smart man always hoped to find—loyal, loving, intelligent, hot as hell, with a kick-ass sense of humor, confident. The list could go on.

  There was a smaller brunette walking next to her.

  For a moment, Turner thought he must be hallucinating. Annie had slipped into his dreams every night since he’d last seen her. Dressed in green scrubs—that she hadn’t worn for long. The things they’d done to each other in his dreams…

  There she was, walking right up to him. The woman he was starting to think he was more than half in love with. Before they’d even had one real date. He put his bag down at his feet and looked at her.

  Pitiful, but he was a Barratt man, after all. They knew the women they wanted.

  She stopped walking abruptly. Her eyes widened, and she clutched the toddler in her arms closer. He shot a sleepy look at Turner and closed big, green eyes. The other two boys wrapped little hands around her scrub pants and clung. Her sister walked at her other side; her arms loaded down with a laundry bag. Houghton carried a basket.

  Annie looked pale and exhausted, and it was only nine p.m.

  And if he wasn’t mistaken, the entire lot of them—with his cousins the exceptions—reeked of smoke.

  “Annie, honey, what’s happened?” He stepped closer just as the lot of them arrived at the suite next to his. He wrapped one hand around her elbow and turned her slightly.

  She didn’t look injured, or singed, but she smelled like smoke.

  “Turner. I...”

  Big, blue eyes showed her exhaustion, her confusion. Her worry.

  “What’s happened, honey?”

  “My neighbor’s house caught fire. We…Jake told my sister to come here. We’re going to stay here tonight.”

  “In Clay—and now Bailey’s—suite,” Houghton said, quietly. Turner looked at him. His cousin was smirking. But Houghton got it.

  Clay’s suite was right next door to Turner’s.

  Annie would be right next door to him, all night. And Turner couldn’t do anything about it with three kids and a teenager with her.

  Houghton was messing with him. No doubt about it.

  82

  Turner rushed his cousin and Mel away deliberately. Mel had snickered when her eyes met Annie’s.

  There was definite approval in Mel’s gaze.

  Annie wasn’t foolish. Turner was about to take advantage of the situation. She felt hunted. There were no other words to describe it. Every nerve in her body was on alert. She could smell him next to her—far better than smelling charred-Annie, which was exactly how she felt—and feel his heat when he brushed against her. He took the laundry basket. “I’ll help you carry everything, get you settled.”

  “Thank you.” She could get her family settled just fine on her own. So why weren’t those words coming out of her mouth? Annie didn’t have a clue. At that moment all she wanted in the world was to have him right there with her, helping her just get through. Extraordinarily pitiful. Just pitiful. “What are you doing here tonight?”

  “I still have no roof. Mac called. Someone stole all the roofing materials at my place, all the way down to the subroofing. My electricity is now off, thanks to damage they did.”

  “That’s horrible.” His bruises were starting to fade, but she’d never forget what they had looked like. Or how he’d gotten them. “Well, we’re here. Thank you for
your help.”

  “No. It’s not that easy, Annie Belle. You know that. What has happened?”

  “Harley Borlin’s house burned to the ground tonight. We were evacuated, since my house is so close. I didn’t want the boys staying there with the smoke, either. Jake…Jake sent my sister Josie and the boys here. Mel’s offered to let us stay here for the night.”

  “Was anyone hurt?”

  Annie shook her head. “I don’t think. Harley’s a long-distance truck driver. He’s in and out of the neighborhood all the time. He…it’s the first part of the week; he should be out of town right now.”

  “You said Jake’s back?” His voice lowered, and he leaned closer. Syrus held up a hand, keeping Turner from getting any closer.

  “Yes. He showed up tonight. He’s probably at the hospital with Izzie now.”

  “I’ll find him in the morning. Have you and your family eaten dinner?”

  “No.” And that was just one thing she had to deal with tonight. “I…need to feed the boys. They have to be starving. We usually eat dinner around seven-thirty; that’s when they get dinner at the daycare. I just haven’t had a chance…”

  “I’ll take care of it.” He shot her a grin as Josie finally got the door unlocked and the two older boys inside. “Houghton keeps chicken nuggets on the menu for when his buddy Luc visits from St. Louis. And macaroni and cheese. Why don’t I call room service and get some food sent up for everyone? They make a great Philly sandwich here. And homemade potato chips that are my great-something-step-grandmother Jude’s recipe. They are perfect. Powell used to say she was going to build a factory to make them and sell them for money to buy houses. She was like six at the time.” He set the laundry basket down and reached out to touch her cheek. His finger brushed her lip lightly. She shivered. Her arms tightened around her baby to remind herself not to do something she’d regret.