by Laura Scott
It was a temporary tactic at best, but enough to provide extra time for them to get out of there. Caitlyn and Annette stumbled from the bedroom.
“What’s going on?” Annette asked.
“Fire!” Caitlyn shouted. “We need to get out of here!”
Sensing her panic, he quickly hustled them toward the door. “We’re okay, but I need you to stay behind me.” Linc wasn’t sure if the arsonist was outside waiting for them to emerge from the burning cabin or if he was watching from afar. “Go straight to my SUV and get in, understand?”
“Yes, come on, Caitlyn. Annette.” Jayme’s face was pale in the darkness. “Follow Linc, I’ll be right behind you.”
He led the way outside, gulping in fresh air that was heavy with humidity and moisture. A badly needed rainstorm had blown through, the rain soaking the forest around them. He hoped the soaked exterior of the cabin, along with the wet trees and brush, would prevent the fire from spreading. Scanning the area, he hustled the three women toward his rental. Caitlyn and Annette climbed into the back; Jayme took the front passenger seat.
Without hesitation, he slid behind the wheel, gunned the engine, and drove away from the burning cabin. He heard Jayme calling 911, explaining what had happened, and providing the address to the cabin. She sounded amazingly calm, and he was impressed with her ability to function well in a crisis.
“I don’t understand,” Caitlyn said in a husky voice. “How did the fire start?”
Linc glanced at Jayme, who turned her head to meet his gaze. He didn’t want to frighten the girls more than they were already, yet at the same time, they both needed to understand the seriousness of the situation.
“Someone threw a firebomb through the window,” Linc finally said. “I happened to be coming out of the bathroom when it happened.” He didn’t add that he had a pillow and blanket on the sofa that may have looked as if he was sleeping there.
He didn’t doubt for one minute that the arsonist intended to kill him. If for no other reason than to get to Jayme.
Linc’s chest was tight as he navigated the dark country road. He couldn’t, wouldn’t allow that to happen.
“But why did someone throw a firebomb?” Caitlyn persisted.
“Because of me,” Jayme said, turning in her seat to look back at her sister. “I told you someone torched my car, threw a firebomb into the physical therapy clinic, and then blew up Linc’s car.”
There was a long moment of silence as Caitlyn digested this information. Linc wondered if the girl hadn’t really believed that her sister had been targeted on purpose.
Glancing in his rearview mirror at Caitlyn’s stricken features, he knew she understood the truth now.
“H-how did he find us at the cabin?” Caitlyn asked.
Linc focused on driving and making sure no one was following behind them. He felt Jayme’s gaze and shrugged as if to say it was up to her to decide how much to tell the girls.
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Caitlyn said, answering her own question. “Because I went back to the apartment to get our things.”
“Don’t worry, we’re safe now,” Jayme said in a soothing tone. “We need to be thankful no one was hurt.”
God had been working overtime, watching over them, Linc thought. And he sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
“But if I had come straight to the cabin the way you told me to,” Caitlyn began.
“Don’t, Cait. We can’t go back and fix what happened.” Jayme glanced at her sister. “And honestly, we don’t know for sure how we were found.”
“Jayme is right. I didn’t notice anyone following us from Caitlyn’s apartment,” Linc agreed. “So if we were followed, that’s on me.” A thought occurred to him. “Maybe the Honda was tracked.”
“You mean with a GPS device of some sort?” Jayme asked with a grimace. “At this point, I think it’s safe to say anything is possible.”
Another precaution I should have taken, Linc thought grimly. Although honestly, it hadn’t occurred to him until after their so-called safe house had been compromised. Maybe he should have considered the possibility, but his experience was in fighting and investigating fires, not general police work.
Captain Barstow needed to be more involved in this thing. Before the next attempt.
“W-where are we going?” Annette asked. The girl had been quiet throughout the ordeal, maybe out of guilt for encouraging Caitlyn to return to their apartment.
As Jayme said, it was too late to go back and change the past. But he wasn’t sure how to handle getting the girls to class.
If he had his way, he’d make them skip out. Surely missing one class wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“Linc?” Jayme’s voice pulled him from his troubled thoughts. “What’s your plan on where we should spend the rest of the night?”
“We’ll go back to the hotel.” It was really the only option. He couldn’t find another rental at midnight.
“Not the Shady Lane,” Caitlyn complained. “It’s so gross.”
“No, a much nicer place than that.” He caught Caitlyn’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Trust me, okay?”
“Okay.” Caitlyn offered a tremulous smile. “And I’m really sorry about taking that detour to our apartment.”
“Me too,” Annette added earnestly. “I mean, who would have thought we’d be tracked to the cabin? It’s like something out of a James Bond movie.”
“Worse than a James Bond movie,” Caitlyn said in a low tone. “I should have listened to Jayme.”
“Next time, right?” Jayme said lightly.
Linc took a long convoluted way to the hotel. He didn’t think his SUV was compromised, but the mere possibility required taking extra precautions. At least with a larger hotel their room wouldn’t be easy to target.
Especially if he insisted on being on one of the top floors.
He parked near the lobby and quickly whisked everyone inside. They hadn’t brought much with them, just phones and power cords, which had been the only easy items to grab. Fifteen minutes later, Linc had safely gotten the three women settled in a large two-bedroom suite.
“This is so nice,” Caitlyn gushed, much the same way Jayme had the previous night. That they were so easily impressed only made him feel worse about the situation that was quickly spiraling out of control.
“I’m not tired,” Annette complained. “Can we watch a movie?”
Linc had been about to agree, but Jayme cut him off. “No, we’re not paying for a movie. This isn’t a vacation, we’re here to be safe. Both of you need to get some sleep.”
“Okay, okay.” Cailyn waved her hand. “No need to get crabby.”
“I’m heading down to move the car,” Linc told Jayme. “Don’t open the door to anyone while I’m gone.”
“I won’t.”
He hurried back down to the lobby and took another few moments to examine the undercarriage of his rental. No tracking device had been placed on the vehicle, which made him feel slightly better. He moved the car, parking it well out of sight from the road, then returned to the suite.
As he walked into the room, his phone rang. Recognizing the Sevierville Police Department, he answered, “This is Quade.”
“Another fire?” Captain Barstow demanded. “My night shift sergeant woke me up to let me know it was the location you’d taken Ms. Weston.”
“Yes, unfortunately, our location was compromised.” Linc sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. The two girls had disappeared into their room, but Jayme was seated on a chair, listening in. “We’re all safe, though. We did our best to minimize the fire damage before getting out of there.”
“The fire department mentioned that most of the fire had been extinguished by the time they’d arrived,” Barstow agreed. “Between the recent rainstorms and the mitigation tactics you deployed, the damage was limited to the main living space. But, Linc, how on earth did this happen?”
It was a valid question. “I need you to send a couple of squ
ads to check out the gray Honda we left in the driveway,” Linc directed grimly. “Look for a tracking device. It’s the only way I can explain how we were discovered so quickly. Oh, and I checked my rental but didn’t find anything.”
The captain muttered something harsh under his breath. “Okay, we’ll search for the GPS device. I’ll be in touch when I hear back from the officers.”
“Thanks.”
“Where are you now?” Barstow asked.
“A hotel.” He wasn’t about to give anything more than that. “Call me back when you have information for me.”
“Will do.” Barstow disconnected from the call.
He dropped onto the sofa, staring glumly around the suite. Apparently, the cabin hadn’t been his best idea.
“You really think Caitlyn’s car has a tracker on it?” Jayme’s serious question drew his gaze. “I mean, who would know enough how to do that?”
“It’s not difficult, they’re easy to buy and tuck up underneath a bumper.” He shook his head. “I should have considered that possibility. Should have insisted they ride with me rather than taking their own car.”
“Please don’t take responsibility for this,” Jayme protested. “Caitlyn owns a piece, and so does Annette. And really, you’re the one who keeps telling me that the fault lies with the arsonist. We’re the victims of his twisted mind game.”
“True.” He smiled at how she’d thrown his own words back at him. “As you said, we have a lot to be grateful for. That entire situation could have ended very differently.”
“I know.” Jayme shifted over so that she could reach out and take his hand. “If you’d been sleeping on the couch . . .”
“Yeah.” He gently cupped her hand between his. “I thought of that too. But what worries me the most is that we still don’t know who this guy is. I can’t find him if I don’t know who I’m looking for.”
“I have faith in you, Linc. You’ll find him.”
He was humbled by her statement. “I pray I can do that before anyone gets hurt.” He paused, then added, “Especially you.”
“I don’t want you hurt either. And I even prayed that God would spare us,” Jayme admitted softly. “I think you might be right about Him watching over us.”
“Really?” He smiled, fiercely glad she’d been able to open her mind and her heart to God. A monumental occasion considering the horror of what she’d lived through. “Oh, Jayme, I’m so happy to hear you say that. Please know God will always be there for you whenever you need Him.”
“Well, I’m not an expert at praying or anything,” she protested. “But I have to admit, the idea of God protecting and guiding us has given me some comfort.” She shrugged, then added, “You were right about the Preacher’s lies. I guess I should have realized the man was mentally unhinged. Instead of turning my back on religion, I should have considered seeking the truth.”
“You are an incredible woman,” he murmured. His gaze locked on hers, awareness sizzling between them. He wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but as he tugged her closer, Jayme wrapped her arms around him. He half expected her to resist, but she eagerly embraced him, burying her face against his chest. She lifted her head and looked deep into his eyes as she kissed him.
Their kiss seemed to go on forever yet was over far too soon. He didn’t push, never wanting to take advantage of the forced togetherness, so he cradled her close and reassured her that he’d keep her safe.
Stroking his hand over her silky red hair, he knew in that moment how incredibly difficult it would be to let her go.
Linc’s kiss was amazing, yet so was being held in his arms, almost as if he cherished her. Logically, she knew he still loved his wife and mourned his daughter, but still, his kindness was something rare and precious.
Something she didn’t want to let go.
But, of course, they couldn’t stay entwined on the sofa forever. His grip loosened, and she forced herself to push away. Instantly, she missed his warmth.
“I—uh, wanted to thank you for saving our lives.” She hoped the light was dim enough that he wouldn’t notice her blush. Drat her pale skin anyway. “Try to get some rest. I’m sure we’ll have another long day tomorrow.”
“Yes.” His voice was low and gravelly, which only made him sound more attractive. She told herself to get a grip. The man was being sweet and kind, no reason to make this into some sort of prelude to a relationship.
She was the one who’d kissed him. For the second time.
Not the other way around.
Jayme rose and managed to make her way into the bedroom. Linc had been generous in obtaining a suite, and she hated knowing how much money he’d been forced to spend on her. Would have to keep spending since they had to keep moving from place to place.
And Linc was still no closer to catching this guy.
She tossed and turned, eventually falling into a restless sleep.
It’s time for you to make me happy . . .
No! Jayme fought against his grasping hands, the weight of his body pinning her to the sofa, his hot, fetid breath on her face. She reached back, grabbed the lantern, and slammed it into him . . .
Her eyes shot open as the pain of the oil burning her hand jarred her awake. Only the pain wasn’t real, not anymore.
Still, she instinctively massaged the scars, taking deep shuddering breaths to calm her racing heart. It was at times like these that she desperately wished there was a way to keep the memories of the past back where they belonged.
Pushing the covers off, she stumbled toward the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. The temperature in the room was quite comfortable, but reliving those moments of the fire always made her hot and sweaty.
If she were home alone, she’d go into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. But she wasn’t home, and Linc was getting some badly needed sleep in the living area.
She sat up against the headboard and raked her fingers through her hair. Was it the fire on the sofa in the cabin that had brought the nightmare back? Understandable at some level, she supposed.
What she needed was a distraction. It never occurred to her to turn on the television set, she didn’t have a TV at home and had no interest in flipping through channels to find something to watch.
She’d had to leave her notebook back at the cabin. Probably gone forever, she thought with a sigh.
There was a small pad of paper and nubby pencil next to the phone, but she decided against trying to use that. In these situations, she tended to write page after page after page of notes.
Not really focusing on the issues in the past or the future she yearned for. Over the years, she’d made up stories to keep Caitlyn entertained.
Stories she’d recently begun to put on paper. Lately, she’d begun writing adult stories rather than middle grade books. Early in their runaway days, she’d spun tales as a way to distract Caitlyn from the terrible places they’d been forced to live in.
Like the Shady Lane Motel.
Jayme rested her head on her knees and thought about the most recent story she’d started working on. Focusing on the characters and the adventure helped push the memory of the fire aside.
Too bad she’d have to start over with the story she’d been working on at Linc’s house. A new idea, one that had some potential.
Or so she hoped. Although from what little she knew about the publishing world, breaking in was nearly impossible to do without obtaining a literary agent.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t write the stories. For herself now that Caitlyn was grown up and had moved on.
Maybe one day she’d be able to see her stories in print. Books had been her salvation during the early years of her foster care. When she’d been sent to live with the Preacher, she’d missed having books to read more than anything.
In the back of her mind, she’d thought her stories might provide a sense of hope to other kids stuck in the foster system. Kids who had experiences similar to or even worse than what she and Caitlyn ha
d suffered.
Silly dream, maybe. But just thinking about her story helped push the remnants of the dream away.
Jayme managed to get another two hours of sleep before the rays of sunlight streaming through the window woke her. She padded over to look outside, relieved to notice the dark storm clouds from the night before had vanished, leaving a clear blue sky and plenty of sunshine in its wake.
After washing up in the bathroom, she opened the door to see if Linc was still sleeping. If anyone deserved a couple of extra hours of sleep, it was him.
“Hey.” He yawned and scrubbed his jaw as if he’d just woken up. “Thought I heard the shower going.”
“Sorry I woke you.” She crossed over to where the small coffeemaker was located. “The bathroom is all yours.”
“Thanks.” He flashed a grin before disappearing into her room.
No surprise the girls were still sleeping. Jayme figured they had stayed up to watch TV, regardless of being denied the chance to pay for a movie. As she watched the coffee drip, she reminded herself that she’d worked hard to provide Caitlyn the best childhood possible. Oh, they’d struggled, lived in terrible places, had often gone hungry, but at the end of the day, she’d kept her sister safe. Supported Caitlyn’s going to school so that she’d interact with others and form friendships.
And look where Caitlyn was now, living in her own apartment with Annette and nearly finished with her veterinary tech program.
It had been a long, hard journey to get here, but it was well worth it.
With a surge of renewed determination, she straightened her shoulders. No way was she going to allow this jerk of an arsonist to ruin things now.
She poured a cup of coffee and curled up in the corner of the sofa. There had to be something she was missing. Some connection she was oblivious to.
As always, her mind came back to the Preacher.
Had he survived the fire? Thirteen years was a long time to wait before seeking revenge. And what about the obituary Linc had found? If Simon had escaped, he’d need to have received medical care.
These weren’t new considerations, she’d expressed them to Linc two days ago, but maybe she was looking at this wrong.
