When the Smoke Clears (Deadly Reunions)

by Lynette Eason

  The door opened and Christine stared at him with haunted, red-rimmed eyes. “Come on in.”

  Hunter entered the foyer and looked left into the great room where Chad lay sprawled on the sofa, snoring. Christine dropped into the chair opposite the sofa, and Hunter paced to the fireplace. The mantel was a shrine to the family Chad had lost. Michelle’s sweet six-year-old face grinned back at him from a school photo.

  He turned to Christine. “Is there any alcohol in the house?”

  “I searched the house from top to bottom.” Confusion buckled her brow. “I didn’t find anything.”

  “Well, that’s good at least.”

  Christine shrugged. “Mom called. She said she’d bring him over some food and coffee.”

  Hunter grunted. Were they enabling Chad? Allowing him to wallow in his destructive, self-pitying ways? Or were they keeping him from descending into a pit that he might never be able to climb out of? Indecision warred inside him. He just didn’t know.

  His phone rang. He looked at Christine. “Sorry, let me grab this.”

  “Sure.”

  Hunter pressed the button to answer the call. “Hey Brian, what do you have?”

  “The video from the witness’s phone.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Not much, sorry. The man in the back had on a dark suit, but I couldn’t get his face. With a little more work I might be able to get a good picture of the suit that you could match if you found one during a search or something.”

  Hunter blew out a sigh. “Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  He hung up and turned back to his sister. “I can check on Chad later, before I head home for the night. I have to go talk to a family about their dead son.”

  “Devin?”

  “Yeah.” He studied her. “How well did you know him anyway?”

  She shrugged. “We graduated together, of course, but I didn’t hang out with him in high school. As for recently, I’ve come across him in the singles’ group at the church. He seemed nice enough, I guess.”

  “Any sign of violence?”

  Christine shook her head. “Devin? No. He was as meek as they come. I remember at a volleyball game, he missed a shot and some of the guys were ragging him about it. They were kind of mean too. His ears got really red and a muscle in his jaw started twitching. I remember thinking he was going to deck someone. Then he just shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away. A few minutes later, he was laughing with one of the ministers.”

  Devin had learned self-control in the past ten years? It wasn’t impossible to believe. People changed. He sure had.

  “Have you ever heard of him hitting anyone?”

  “No.” Her eyebrows pulled together at the bridge of her nose. “I told you. He was one of the most gentle souls I’ve ever met.”

  “What about a girlfriend?”

  Christine gave an uneasy laugh. “What is this? An inquisition?”

  “No, but when you mentioned Devin’s name, it occurred to me that you guys were the same age, graduated high school together, and went to the same church. It stands to reason you might have some information I might find helpful in the investigation.”

  Her brow relaxed. “Huh. Well, I know he was interested in Marcie Freeman. They hung out a lot, looked like they might be more than friends. Guess you could start with her.”

  Hunter left his spot by the mantel and walked over to plant a kiss on his sister’s forehead. “Thanks, Chrissy-mine.”

  She laughed. “You haven’t called me that in forever.”

  “I know. You grew up on me. I miss the little squirt who used to follow me everywhere I went.”

  Christine lifted a brow. “You miss her? Sorry, I’m not buying it. I used to drive you crazy.”

  Hunter laughed. “Yeah, you did.”

  “Get out of here.” Her expression sobered. “I’ll take care of him for a while, then I’ve got to go. We’re having a reunion committee meeting tomorrow night at Lori’s, and I haven’t written the first note about what we need to talk about.”

  “You working tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. I’m off Friday, though. It’ll be nice to have a long weekend.”

  “Tell Rick hello for me.”

  A flush crept into her cheeks, confirming something he’d suspected for a while now. She was definitely interested in the man.

  “Shut up,” she said in a voice sweet enough to give him serious cavities.

  Hunter left, his heart heavy with thoughts of his brother. But also with an anticipation at seeing Alexia again that was so sweet it rivaled his sister’s tone. He pulled out his phone and punched in Katie’s number.

  Voice mail. “Hey Katie, I’ve got one more thing for you to run down for me, if you don’t mind. Marcie Freeman. She and Devin were an item, according to Christine. Can you see what you can find out about her? Thanks.”

  He hung up, then dialed the number of the person he really wanted to talk to.

  Still jumpy from her threatening phone call, Alexia jerked when the doorbell rang.

  Hunter. She glanced at the clock. 7:18. Hurrying to the peephole, she looked out. Yep. Her heart thudded a little faster.

  Opening the door, she gave him a smile. “Thanks for letting me go with you.”

  “Katie’s working another angle of the case. I told her you would fill in for her.”

  Alexia raised a brow. “I’m sure that went over well.”

  One side of his mouth lifted. “Katie’s not so bad. You just have to get used to her way of thinking and doing things.”

  Hunter’s phone rang just as he pulled out of Serena’s drive. “Hello?” He listened. “What?”

  At his harsh tone, Alexia’s ears perked up. She looked at him.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He snapped his phone shut.

  “Chad again?”

  “Katie. Her house is on fire.” The car lurched as Hunter’s foot pressed the gas. He flipped the siren on and they sped toward the west side of town.

  Alexia felt herself pale. Then the hunger struck her. The urge to be suiting up, slipping on the gear. Fighting the flames that would destroy, greedily grasping at anything in their path. “What happened?”

  “Not sure,” he yelled over the siren.

  “Is she all right?”

  “Sounded furious, but not hurt.”

  Alexia held onto the side of the door as they screeched around a corner, then raced past the cars pulling over to get out of the way.

  Soon, she could see the smoke in the distance. Then they were turning into the neighborhood. Fire trucks and police cars lined the street. One of the officers turning away traffic waved Hunter on through.

  Alexia absently noted that Katie lived in a neighborhood similar to Serena’s. Nice houses, manicured lawns. The kind of neighborhood she’d always dreamed of living in.

  They pulled up next to one of the police cruisers and Alexia took in the scope of the fire.

  “Wow.” She breathed in horror, yet couldn’t squelch the surge of fascination she always felt when confronted with the roaring monster.

  Hunter’s stunned expression said it was worse than he’d imagined. “She’ll lose everything.”

  Alexia saw Katie standing back in the street, hands on her hips, expression hard as stone.

  “At least she’s alive,” she said, compassion for the detective filling her in spite of their rocky relationship.

  He nodded. “True enough.”

  They climbed from the vehicle and Alexia continued to watch the firemen battle the blaze. They’d already saturated the two homes on either side of Katie’s and so far the fire hadn’t spread.

  But Alexia could tell this was going to be a long, hard fight. She wanted to join in, offer her expertise, beg someone to let her hold the hose.

  But she couldn’t. Because someone had taken that away from her.

  Fists clenched, she realized she might have made a mistake in coming home. Maybe she should have fought to clear her n
ame, find the person responsible.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Alexia spun to see Katie standing next to her. Her pale, soot-streaked features said she wasn’t happy with Alexia’s presence.

  “I was with Hunter when you called. He drove straight here.”

  Hard eyes assessed her—then dismissed her.

  Katie walked over to Hunter and he placed an arm around her shoulder.

  A flame of jealousy fired through Alexia and she turned so she couldn’t see them. What was she doing? The woman was his partner. Of course he’d want to offer her comfort. It didn’t mean anything.

  A car pulled up and parked. A man got out, flashed something at the officer in charge of keeping the crowd back. The officer let him through and Alexia gulped. Chad, looking ragged and hungover, approached her. “Are you all right?”

  “What are you doing here? How did you know—”

  “Chad?” Hunter called to his brother.

  Chad looked up and gave a halfhearted wave. He looked stunned at the sight of Katie’s house.

  Hunter waved the man over and Chad patted her shoulder as he passed. “I’m here for you, Alexia. Whatever you need, okay?”

  “What?” Where had that come from? She didn’t want him to be there for her. She wanted his brother. The one with his arm around his partner.

  “I’ll be right back,” Chad reassured her.

  She ignored him, blinked and stared at the flames. Memories of her life in Washington swept over her. She missed her job. Missed the camaraderie she shared with most of the other firefighters.

  Her jaw tightened. And something shifted inside her.

  Time to clear things up. She would find out what really happened the night of the fire so many years ago. She’d either prove her innocence or she’d own up to it and find a way to deal with it.

  Then she’d go back to Washington and fight for her good name and get her job back.

  Already, peace from making the right decision flowed through her. She saw Chad frown, say something, then shake his head. Hunter looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t have a chance before Katie turned on her heel.

  The detective marched up to Alexia and her peace evaporated. Hunter pushed past Chad to follow Katie, frowning, the lines between his brows furrowed deep.

  Something in the woman’s eye made Alexia tense.

  “Do you know something you’d like to share with us?” Katie spat. “First Devin’s murder, then that attack in the hospital garage that you could have set up. Now this. Come on, you have to know something.”

  “That’s enough, Katie. You need to watch yourself.” Chad defended Alexia, his eyes narrowed.

  Alexia stared at the woman. “What are you talking about?”

  Hunter gaped at his partner. “Katie?”

  Shame appeared briefly on the woman’s face. But then she shrugged and said, “She’s not the little innocent you think she is. Your own father said—”

  “I get it.” Alexia interrupted her with a raised hand. Barely holding on to her temper, she glared at the two of them.

  “Alexia . . .” Hunter’s protest bounced off her ears as she turned her back on both of them.

  Then she realized she couldn’t storm off in a snit. She didn’t have a vehicle. She’d come with Hunter. A quick glance at Chad and she decided against asking him for a ride. No sense in encouraging him in that area.

  With as much dignity as she could, she looked only at Hunter. “I’ll be in the car when you’re ready.”

  She took two steps in the direction of the car when the explosion rocked her backward.

  24

  Wednesday, 7:32 p.m.

  Hunter watched in disbelief as his car lit up the sky while Alexia hugged the ground. Bolting toward her, he snagged her arm and yanked her to her feet even as the fire chief barked an order to turn one of the hoses from the house to the car.

  Pulling her with him to a safe distance, he felt her sag against him. Realizing her legs had given out, he let her sink to the curb. Shock twisted her features and he thought he saw tears standing in her eyes.

  Fortunately, she’d been far enough away from the car when it had exploded that she wasn’t hurt, but it didn’t change the fact that if she’d started for the car less than a minute earlier, she would be dead.

  His heart jolted at the thought as he wrapped his mind around the fact that someone had gotten close enough to his car to plant an explosive.

  When? Who? How?

  Katie stood apart from them, her eyes darting between her house and his car.

  “I’ll be right back,” he told Alexia.

  She simply nodded.

  He went to Katie, watching her face twist with fury as hot as the flames that licked at her house. Leveling her gaze on him, she planted her hands on her hips. “She did this.”

  “Who?”

  “Her!” An accusing finger pointed in Alexia’s direction. “Somehow, she managed to do this.” She snapped her head toward Alexia. “Where were you between two this afternoon and seven tonight?”

  Alexia shook her head in disbelief, pulled herself to her feet, and approached them, ignoring the chaos rocketing around them. Mimicking Katie’s stance with her hands on her hips, she demanded, “What do you have against me, Detective?” She flung a hand in the direction of the burning car. “I’d be dead if I’d been any closer! What makes you think I would do something like this?”

  “Because Dominic told me all about you.” With that flat statement, Katie spun on her heel and stormed away, leaving Hunter gaping after his partner while Alexia recoiled, stumbling back.

  “Katie!”

  “Leave her alone.”

  Alexia’s dull voice pulled him to her side. Cupping her shoulders, he asked, “What did she mean by that?”

  “I have no idea.” Her eyes narrowed as shock fell away to be replaced by stiff-jawed determination. “But you can bet your badge I’m going to find out.”

  Alexia slumped in the passenger seat of the car that had been delivered to Hunter. They were now pushing ten o’clock. “We’re not going to make it to the Wickhams’ tonight, are we?”

  Hunter gripped the steering wheel, brow furrowed, jaw tight. “Probably not. I’ll call and ask them if we can make it tomorrow morning.”

  She asked him, “Will you pick me up in the morning or should I meet you there?”

  “I’ll give you a call and let you know what my schedule’s like and if I even get in touch with them.”

  “Okay.”

  Hunter dropped her off at home with orders to get some rest.

  Right. As if.

  First thing in the door, she set the alarm. Then she kicked off her shoes and scratched Yoda’s head. As she went through the routine of feeding the animals and watering the plants, Alexia thought about the day. She was exhausted.

  She’d almost been in Hunter’s car tonight. She shivered as a wave of nausea coursed through her.

  All right. Someone was after her. Who?

  Grabbing a pen and a pad, she sat at the kitchen table and wrote at the top of the paper: People who might want to kill me.

  My brother.

  Person from Washington—whoever set me up to die in the fire. Paul Sanders?

  Someone who thinks I know where Jillian and Serena are.

  Katie?

  Well, probably not Katie, but the woman sure acted like she couldn’t stand Alexia for personal reasons having to do with Dominic.

  One more person came to mind.

  As though her fingers didn’t want to write the words, they hesitated. Then she wrote:

  My father.

  She lay the pen down on the paper and stared at the last person on the list.

  Was it possible?

  The man had been severely burned in the fire. He’d spent most of her senior year at a burn unit in Georgia.

  When he’d come home, shortly before her graduation, still weak and scarred, his eyes had followed her everywhere. Promising ret
ribution. And she knew she was on borrowed time at home. Because she’d known as soon as he regained his strength . . .

  Even now the memory made her shudder.

  And so she’d left. With her mother’s harsh “encouragement” to do so.

  Then two years later, her father had disappeared. Never to be heard from again.

  Right?

  Unless somehow he’d heard she was home and had decided now was his chance to get her. To get even.

  For something she couldn’t even remember.

  And where was Jillian?

  She thought about the phone call. Someone wanted to know where Jillian was. Shivering, she made her way into the guest bedroom. Yoda followed her and Chewie disappeared in the vicinity of the kitchen.

  In the bedroom, she flipped on the light and stared at the surroundings. King bed with a mint green comforter, the attached bathroom done in matching green and tan colors. All the comforts she would have loved as a child. For the majority of her years, she’d slept on a mattress with a sleeping bag.

  A lump formed in her throat as she envisioned her mother handwashing that sleeping bag, then hanging it out to dry in the backyard. Where had that memory come from?

  “The washing machine was broken,” she whispered. And Alexia had been sick with the flu. Tossed her cookies all over that sleeping bag.

  And her mother had washed it. By hand.

  Yoda lifted her head from her paws and cocked her ears toward her.

  Alexia blinked and got ready for bed, but the image of her mother working to clean her bedding never left her. As she settled under the blankets, her eyes fell on the nightstand.

  A Bible, with several pieces of paper stuck inside. She’d seen it last night, but tonight, she was curious. She placed it in her lap and let it fall open to the first piece of paper. A note from Serena.

  “I was hoping I’d get to hang out with you some, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. I know you’re having a hard time with everything and I want you to know I’m praying for you. You’re a great friend, Alexia, and a wonderful person. I’ve marked ten different passages that I think you’ll find comfort and meaning in. The first one is John 3:16. Know that you’re loved. That you’re worth being loved. And that you’re loved so much that someone died so that you could live.”