She nodded again and slammed the door. Grady heard a deadbolt clicking in place, then a second one. “It’s awful that she has to live in such a dangerous neighborhood.”
Ainslie started down the walkway. “Sometimes a place like this is all a parent can afford. Especially a single parent. My mom was a good example. She did her best, but we still had to live on public assistance, and we were close to being homeless more times than I can count.”
“You sound embarrassed, but there’s no shame in that.” Grady walked alongside her to the final house.
“Tell that to kids growing up hungry and wearing thrift store clothes. Not having the things other kids have. Using food stamps at the grocery store. It was hard.” She shook her head as she started up the broken concrete walkway, a light drizzle starting to fall now. “Which is why it’s also hard to understand Ethan’s willingness to live in a neighborhood like this again. If only he still lived with me, maybe none of this would’ve happened.”
Grady didn’t like the look of the last place, that was dark and foreboding with tall grass and weeds in the front yard. “You can’t know that. Wade would likely still have found Ethan, and whoever hurt Wade would’ve, too.”
She looked up at him, gaze so dejected that Grady shoved his hands in his pockets so he didn’t reach out to hold her. “And you might’ve been in the middle of it. Gotten hurt. Or killed even.”
“You’re right.” She firmed her shoulders in a hard line and knocked on the door. “No use in speculating. I’ve learned that over the years, too. God doesn’t explain, and questioning or thinking things should be different is wrong.”
Grady knocked on the door again. “Looks like no one’s home.”
“Well, that’s it, then. Every house and nothing much to go on.” Ainslie sighed.
Grady couldn’t stand to see her so down. “Not nothing. Jayla’s mom might know something. Or they could have video from their doorbell camera.”
She looked across the street. “Would you mind if we went over to Ethan’s place? I want to take a look inside to see if I can figure out what’s been going on with him lately.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Grady searched her gaze. “You might find something you don’t want to know. You can never un-see what you might discover.”
“I have to do something.” She marched with purpose toward Ethan’s place.
Since they were done talking to neighbors, Grady signaled for Drake to join them. She climbed the steps and dug keys from her pocket, and Grady stepped up beside her. She lifted the key toward the lock.
“Hold up.” Grady waved a warning hand. “The door’s cracked open.”
She stared at it for a moment then pushed on it, and it swung all the way in. “Do you smell that?”
“Gas!” Grady grabbed her hand. “We need to get out of here.”
He spun and bolted down the steps, pulling her along behind him, wondering if the free-flowing gas was a trap or accident. “Hurry! This place could blow.”
He ran down the sidewalk, heading at top speed toward Drake, who’d stepped onto the grassy median.
“Gas!” Grady yelled.
Drake came barreling toward them. Just like him not to run from danger but toward it.
Grady picked up speed. Churning faster. Ainslie lost her footing. Stumbled. He swept her into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder without stopping. He kicked it into higher gear and ran faster.
“House is filled with gas,” Grady said as he stopped in front of Drake. “We need to get Ainslie somewhere safe.”
A hum overhead caught Grady’s attention. A small drone carrying an object Grady couldn’t make out whizzed through the sky toward Ethan’s front porch. Grady squinted, trying to determine the cargo. It looked like a glass bottle.
What the heck?
Recognition set in.
“Molotov cocktail! Down!” Grady whipped Ainslie behind a large utility box and covered her with his body. Drake dropped beside them.
A loud explosion erupted in the night. Concussive waves rumbled through the ground. Debris flew through the sky, and ash cluttered the air. Flames lit up the night, the heat scorching even at their distance.
Grady coiled more tightly around Ainslie but risked looking up. Fire licked at what remained of the wood structure that had been Ethan’s rental house. White hot. Burning furiously. So bright, he squinted and shifted his gaze to the house next door where the older woman lived. The house remained intact, and she came stumbling out the front and across the street to safety. But not so where the woman with three kids and no husband lived. The side of the structure closest to Ethan’s house was missing, and fire greedily climbed the house. Roaring upward. Heading for the roof. No one emerged.
Grady looked at Drake. “Take Ainslie to your car and get her out of here. I have to check on the family next door.”
“No, wait. Don’t go!” Ainslie cried out. “It’s too dangerous.”
“The woman’s alone with her kids.”
She grabbed and squeezed his hand. “Please, be careful.”
Grady gave her one last look and took off running. The heat knocked him back, and he couldn’t approach from that angle. He slipped across the street to skirt Ethan’s inferno and reach the other house. He ran up the walkway. The flames licked higher. Showers of sparks rained down on him, but he ignored them.
He kicked in the door.
“Fire!” he yelled and searched through the smoky haze.
The dining room to his left was toast. The blaze consumed the space and voraciously licked his way. He checked the living room. No one. It was nearly nine so they could’ve gone to bed.
A crying baby sounded from upstairs. Yes. Someone was alive.
He charged up the staircase in the center of the house, two steps at a time. He started in the direction of the baby’s loud wails. Smoke curled up the steps, and the fire crackled closer.
A door opened. The mother bolted into the hallway from a room at the end. “My children! Help me!”
She brushed past him, and he followed.
The house was fast filling with smoke, and Grady pulled his shirt up over his face. She led him down the hallway to the first bedroom. Two children were sleep in twin beds. How on earth could they have slept through the explosion?
He scooped up the nearest child, a girl, four at most. The mother grabbed the boy, a toddler.
In the hallway, he assessed their options. “Give the boy to me and go for the baby.”
She shifted her son into Grady’s arms, and the soft little body cuddled against him. The girl woke up.
“Mommy,” she cried out.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Grady cooed. “Your mommy is just getting the baby, and then we’re going to go outside.”
She coughed, and Grady thought about taking them straight out, but he couldn’t leave the mother and baby behind. She came charging back into the hallway, a blanket over the crying bundle in her arms.
“You first,” he said.
She started down the steps. Grady followed. Flames now fully engulfed the dining room, and the intense heat had him lurching back for a moment. But he gained his footing and kept going. Stepping through smoke. Embers. Falling debris.
He hit the landing behind the woman, where smoke swirled around them like a living, breathing thing.
They hurried out of the house and across the road. Grady set the children on the grass, and the mother dropped down beside them and pulled them into her arms.
“Bella,” the little girl cried out. “Where’s Bella?”
“Who’s Bella?” Grady asked.
“My doggie.” Large tears spilled from her eyes and trailed through the soot clinging to her little face. “She was sleeping with me. You need to find her.”
Grady looked at the house and back at the child’s terrified face. He’d had a dog growing up, and Max was the most important thing in Grady’s life for many years. Especially when holding onto his secret. Max was the onl
y living thing Grady had told about his uncle.
He couldn’t let this little girl lose her pet. He took off for the house and raced inside. The flames attacked the stairway now like greedy monsters. He could hardly stand the heat and thought to turn back. The face of the devastated little girl flashed before his eyes. He had to go on. For her.
He blindly took the stairs in a racing run and charged into the bedroom. Smoke trailed after him, and he coughed hard. He lifted his shirt over his mouth and ripped the covers from the bed. No dog. Went to the other bed. Tore them off there, too. Still no dog.
“Bella!” He dropped to the floor. Heard whimpering ahead.
He plunged under the bed and fumbled around in the thick smoke. He connected with the dog’s snout. She chomped into his hand. His heart broke for the animal. She was obviously terrified. He gently ran his hand up the body until he could get a good hold on her. She bit him again. And again. Sharp little terrified bites.
He pulled her out and settled her in his jacket, which he zipped around her. She squirmed to get free as he bolted from the room. Flames now consumed the lower stairs. He had no choice but to go through them. He rushed down the steps, then took a flying leap, praying that God would protect him.
Gasping. Coughing. Gagging. Eyes burning from the acrid smoke, he emerged into the cool night and charged across the street.
“Where’s Bella?” the little girl asked.
Grady collapsed on the ground, straining for breath as the first fire truck arrived, screaming on scene.
“Mommy?” the girl cried out.
“It’s okay, baby,” the mom said.
Grady finally gained a solid breath. Then another and another. The spasms in his lungs slowed, and he opened his jacket. Bella poked her tiny white head out and looked around.
The child reached for the dog.
Grady held out a warning hand, the one with tiny bite marks. “Now’s probably not the best time to hold her. She might bite you.”
The mother looked at Grady. “She bit you, didn’t she?”
“It’s okay,” Grady said. “She’s afraid and didn’t mean to hurt me. The only thing that matters right now is that we’re all safe.”
He hoped anyway.
He looked down the street, searching through the chaos of rushing firefighters. Two trucks. An ambulance arriving on scene. The smoldering smoke swirling around it all.
Had Drake moved Ainslie out of the danger zone?
Grady’s gut clenched, and he wouldn’t relax until he knew for sure that she was safe. Because if he knew anything right now, he knew in his gut that the bomb had been targeting her.
9
In Drake’s SUV, Ainslie tried to ignore her knotted stomach. Her racing heart. She tried to will the phone she stared at in her hand to ring. Was Grady safe? Was the family safe? He’d run into flames and smoke. Disappeared before her eyes. Her heart had screamed to follow him to be sure he was okay. At the very least to shake off Drake’s hand and stay nearby as he urged her toward his car. But she’d let him lead her away, because that’s what Grady wanted, and she wouldn’t distract him by not following his wishes. And if he was still in the flaming house, she couldn’t distract him with a phone call either. Surely, he would contact her the minute he got the family to safety.
Drake glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “He’s okay.”
“You don’t know that,” she said, hating how negative and fearful she sounded.
“I know Grady.” Drake clicked on the blinker for the Veritas Center’s parking lot. “He’s a fighter, and he’s smart. He’ll get that family and himself out of that house in plenty of time.”
Would he? Had he? She had to believe he’d succeeded because she couldn’t do anything to help him other than pray, which she’d done nonstop since they’d left the blazing home.
Prayer. Why did she think it was the last resort? Minimize its importance. Likely because she didn’t see a lot of answers to her requests of late. Maybe she’d been praying for the wrong things. But Grady getting out of that house safe? That was totally the right thing to be asking for.
Drake parked at the curb by the center. “Straight inside.”
She nodded and climbed out, the air cooler and crisper. Free from smoke like Grady had been facing. She shivered at the thought and entered the building through the front door. The muted color scheme in the spacious lobby often brought her comfort, but tonight it was dark and quiet. She searched for the usual peace, but she was too hyped up to even think about relaxing.
Their night guard, Pete Vincent, stood by the desk watching them enter, his gaze a question mark. “Evening, Ainslie.”
She swallowed hard and stepped to the desk. “This’s Sierra’s brother, Drake Byrd. He’s a deputy with the marshals fugitive apprehension division.”
“We’ve met before,” Drake said.
Pete held out his hand. “Good to see you again. I always thought fugitive apprehension would be an interesting job.”
“You know it is,” Drake said, but his tone didn’t reflect his enthusiastic statement, and she had to wonder if there was something going on in his job that he wasn’t enjoying. Or maybe he was just worried about Grady, too.
Pete laid an iPad on the counter in front of Drake. “You know the drill. Sign in, and I’ll get your security badge ready.”
Pete slid a plastic card through a reader then looked up at Ainslie. “I heard about the swat.”
She was going to comment, but her phone rang from her purse. She grabbed it up. Grady’s name appeared on the screen. She nearly dropped to the floor in thanks.
“Excuse me.” She moved out of earshot. “Grady. Thank goodness. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” One word, but she heard the raspy tone and knew he’d suffered from smoke inhalation.
She couldn’t stay upright any longer and dropped onto a plush chair, her hand shaking. She’d never been so afraid for someone else in her life. Never. Tears threatened to fall.
“And you?” he asked, sounding as anxious as she’d been feeling.
She swallowed hard and looked up to stem the tears before she started blubbering in front of Pete and Drake. “We’re at the center. We’re good.”
A long sigh traveled through the phone, and she felt his relief clear to her bones. When she had a chance to think about this event, she knew she would discover how much they both were being drawn to each other. For some odd reason, that didn’t bother her right now. Maybe because she was simply relieved that he was okay. Or maybe because she really was coming to care for him more than she wanted. When he’d disappeared into the house alive with flames, her terror for his safety had told her all she needed to know.
She wished she had time to process her thoughts, but Drake started her way, and she needed to end the call. “What about the family? How are they?”
“All safe and accounted for. Even their dog. I’ll be heading out shortly. I’ll meet you at Sierra’s place.” His tone had gone back to the clipped-and-to-the-point-Mr.-Business again.
She should want that. Should want him to stick to the professional side of things. But she didn’t. Right now, she wanted the man she cared for. But with Drake fast approaching, she wasn’t about to go there.
“See you then.” She ended the call, even though she’d wanted to keep talking. To cling to his voice to prove he was safe, but she would soon see him.
And then what? Pretend some more that she didn’t have feelings for him?
“Ready?” Drake asked, unaware of her inner turmoil.
“Yes.” She hurried across the wide-open lobby to give them access to the hallway. She crossed over to the condo tower and punched the elevator button.
“Grady called,” she told Drake inside the car as she punched the number five. “He’s fine, and so is the family.”
“Good to hear.” He watched her far more carefully than she found comfortable. A typical law enforcement officer who was looking for a deeper meaning. “Maybe you can rela
x a bit now.”
She resisted nodding and looked at her feet to end the conversation. She didn’t want him to know how much seeing Grady running into the fire had impacted her. And besides, she wouldn’t relax. Not until she actually saw Grady—saw that he wasn’t covered in burns. Then she would relax. And maybe not even then.
How could she when Ethan’s house had blown up?
The explosion played in her head. The fiery ball that had rumbled under her body but she couldn’t see due to Grady’s protection. The raining down of wood and metal. The ash. Smoke. She shuddered.
“You coming?” Drake’s voice pierced her thoughts.
She looked up to find him standing in the hallway holding the elevator door open.
She marched past him and down the hall, then used Sierra’s key to let them into her condo.
“It’s just me and Drake,” she called out so she didn’t startle Sierra.
“In the dining area,” Sierra yelled.
Sierra sat next to Reed, a big strapping guy with a large nose and square jaw. He wore dress slacks and a green button-down shirt highlighting his dark coloring. Sierra was dressed more casually in jeans and a pale pink T-shirt, and they were both peering intently at a large poster board seating chart.
Sierra’s head popped up, a bead of determination in her eyes, and Reed plunged his fingers into hair nearly as black as Drake’s.
“Dude,” Drake said. “You look like you could use a break. There’s a Trail Blazers game on.”
Reed glanced at Sierra, a pleading look on his face.
“Go ahead.” She smiled. “You’ve endured this far longer than most guys would have.”
He stood and grabbed her tightly in a hug. “It’s official. You are the very best fiancée a guy could ask for.”
“And don’t you forget that when I let Bridezilla take over.” She laughed.
He kissed her nose and all but ran to the sofa, where Drake had already turned on the TV.
Ainslie loved seeing Sierra and Reed’s good-natured bantering. The gentle love they displayed. Something that would be amazing in any person’s life. Could she have something like that with Grady? He was right about the football thing. It was no big deal. She didn’t have to enjoy it. Just enjoy the fact that he did. That she could do.
Dead Center Page 8
