When Shadows Fall (Callaways #7)

by Barbara Freethy

  I'm at the beach right now. I wish you could see the moon playing off the waves. It's so beautiful. When I look out at the sky and the sea, I feel like I'm close to heaven. And it calms me. I know everything will be all right. You'll grow up happy and loved. I wish I knew what your name was. I told the social worker that I wanted them to call you Olivia, but she said I couldn't tell your parents what to name you. Olivia is my middle name, and I'd love to have a piece of me with you. But whatever your name is, I'm sure it's as beautiful as you are.

  With all my love,

  Your Mama

  Olivia sat down on the floor as she pressed the letter to her chest. Only then did she realize that she was crying. The words of her mother—and she now knew without a doubt that Francine was her mother—ran around in her head. She felt both sad and angry that the only contact she would have with the woman who gave birth to her was this letter.

  But Francine had predicted that that might be the case. At least she'd had the foresight to leave this note behind—a note she might never have found if Molly hadn't reached out to her. And she didn't even know if Molly knew about the letter since it was hidden away in Francine's music box.

  She folded the letter back up and put it in the pocket of her jeans. She knew she'd reread it a million times in the upcoming days, weeks and years.

  As she got to her feet, she wiped the tears from her eyes. She blinked against the stinging moisture and as she did so, she realized that the air was smoky and thick. She'd been so caught up in the letter, she hadn't smelled anything until just now.

  She ran up the stairs and into the laundry room. The smoke was much thicker, the heat intense, and along with smoke, she smelled gasoline. She stumbled to the door, her way now lighted by bright orange flames.

  The house was on fire!

  She reached for her phone, but she realized she'd set it down on the floor in the basement. She had no light anymore. But she didn't want to take time to go back and find it.

  She felt her way toward the hallway door with one hand outstretched. With the other hand, she tried to pull her sweater up over her mouth and nose.

  When she entered the hallway, she saw a wall of flames between her and the front of the house. And then she saw a male figure come out of the dining room. He had on dark clothes and a hood over his head, but when he saw her, he stopped abruptly, staring at her in shock.

  At first she'd thought it was Peter, but as the flames leapt higher she realized it was Keith Fletcher, the police officer she'd met at the bar, the one who'd been having drinks with Colton's father.

  "What the hell are you doing here?" he shouted. "No one was supposed to be here."

  "Why did you do this?" she asker, her eyes watering as she stumbled down the hallway.

  "I couldn't take the chance there was anything else here to find."

  His words weren't making sense, but she didn't have time for questions. She started coughing as the heat and smoke began to make her dizzy. She put her hand toward the wall as a horrible rumble ran through the house, and then everything exploded.

  She was knocked off her feet and six feet down the hall by a blast of fire. As she landed on the ground, she put her hands in defense as the ceiling came crashing down on top of her, revealing more fire coming from the upstairs. He'd obviously started the fire on the second floor.

  It took a moment to get her wits about her. Then she felt intense pain running through her ankle. She tried to move, but a heavy piece of wood had pinned her to the ground.

  "Help me," she cried. She tried to see down the hall, but everything was black and smoky now. She didn't even know if Fletcher was still in the house.

  Then she felt a rush of air that was both welcome and terrifying as the fire around her inhaled new oxygen.

  She'd never thought of fire as loud before, but everything was crackling, popping, breaking. And in that moment, she realized there was a good chance she was not going to make it out of this house.

  "Oh, God," she whispered. "Please help me."

  She thought about her mom, about Colton, about her friends, all the people who would miss her, all the things she would miss.

  And then a voice came through the darkness. "Hang in there, baby girl."

  She looked around, but she couldn't see anyone.

  The voice came again. "Fight. Don't give up like I did."

  She reacted to the words, to the challenge. She wasn't going to give up. She wasn't going to die in Molly's house. She had to find a way to get free. She twisted and strained and tried to slip out from under the beam, but it wasn't moving and the fire was getting worse.

  Then she heard another voice—male this time, and very familiar. She looked up as a man appeared on the other side of a curtain of fire that hung halfway down the hall, the flames licking angry paths up and down the melting wallpaper as they came closer to her.

  Colton!

  She was both relieved to see him and terrified that he was now in danger, too.

  "Hang on," he yelled. "I'm going to get you out of there."

  She wanted him to do just that, but how could he get to her without being caught in the fire? He had no gear with him, no protective clothes or mask.

  Colton disappeared, then reappeared a moment later with a towel around his head and chest. Another second, and he barreled through the flames, batting the sparks away as he reached her.

  He dropped to his knees. "Can you move, Olivia?"

  She shook her head. "My leg is trapped."

  "It's going to be okay."

  She'd appreciated his calm confidence before, but she liked it even more now.

  He grabbed the beam with both hands and tried to move it off of her, but the weight of the ceiling bearing down on the upper portion was too much for him. He tried again, and she could see the strain in every muscle of his face.

  The fire was getting worse. Not only was she going to die, Colton was going to die as well. "You have to leave, Colton. Get help."

  He looked into her eyes. "Help is coming, and I'll never leave you, Olivia. You just have to hang on."

  Another man appeared behind him. At first she thought it was a firefighter, but was shocked to see it was Keith Fletcher. She would have thought he'd be long gone by now.

  Like Colton, he pulled his hoodie over his head, then made a dash through the fire. His sleeves were flaming when he reached them. Colton helped him beat out the fire.

  "You came back," she said in amazement.

  He gave her a hard look. "I once had a chance to save Molly, but I didn't take it. I can't do the same tonight. I can't let her granddaughter die."

  "How do you know I'm her granddaughter?"

  "I've been researching you ever since you showed up in town. You've got her eyes, eyes that once pleaded with me to arrest her husband."

  "We can do this later," Colton interrupted. "Help me lift this beam."

  With Keith's help, Colton was finally able to move the heavy wood enough for her to wiggle free. She tried to stand, but more pain shot through her ankle. "I can't walk."

  Colton didn't hesitate. He grabbed the towel and wrapped it around the upper part of her body. Then he swept her up in his arms. "Hold your breath. We'll be out of here in a second."

  She squeezed her eyes shut and didn't allow herself to breathe as he took her through the fire. The heat was intense. And for a minute she didn't think they would be able to escape the flames, but somehow Colton got her through them.

  His speed increased as he hit the front door, and he didn't stop running until he got to the sidewalk. As he set her down on the ground, a fire engine came screaming around the corner.

  "It's about damn time," he muttered. Then he looked back at her with grave concern in his eyes. "Are you all right?"

  She nodded. "Thanks—to you," she coughed.

  He cupped her face and gave her a quick kiss. "Don't try to talk. I'm going to go find Fletcher."

  "Wasn't he right behind us?"

  "I don't know whe
re he went. Stay here."

  "Don't go back in there, Colton." She couldn't bear the thought of him going back into that fire. But she saw the resolute gleam in his eyes and she knew nothing she could say would dissuade him from doing what he considered to be his job.

  "It's going to be okay, Olivia. I promise."

  She didn't know how he could make that promise, but he'd once told her he never lied, so she was going to trust him to come back to her.

  Robin, the EMT she'd met in the bar a few days earlier, was at her side a moment later, insisting on slipping an oxygen mask over her face and putting her leg in a splint. Then Robin and a male EMT helped her onto a gurney and loaded her into the ambulance.

  "We're going to take you to the hospital," Robin told her.

  "Wait, where's Colton?" she asked, straining to see through the swelling crowd. Not only were there a dozen or so firefighters at the house, there were now also neighbors milling around.

  "Colton is fine," Robin said, giving her a smile. "Don't worry about him. This is what he does, Olivia. I'm sure he'll be your first visitor in the E.R."

  As the ambulance left the scene, she tried to relax, to tell herself the worst was over, but she knew she wouldn't be able to relax until she saw Colton again.

  She slipped her hand into the pocket of her jeans, her fingers curling around the letter her mother had left her. Everything else in Molly's house might be destroyed by fire, but the note had survived, and she would have at least one special link to her mother.

  She closed her eyes and as she did so, she heard the same female voice she'd heard during the fire. "You're going to be fine baby girl."

  She was going to be fine. "Thanks," she whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was almost an hour and a half before Colton could get to the hospital. He knew Olivia was in good hands and that her injuries were not serious, but he was still worried. She'd inhaled a lot of smoke. She could have damage to her lungs. She could have gone into shock after leaving the scene.

  All kinds of negative scenarios ran through his mind, shocking him with their intensity. He wasn't a man to imagine the worst. He'd always been able to compartmentalize, to be optimistic, to believe he could overcome any obstacle, but when it came to Olivia he was one big mass of nerves.

  When he'd arrived at Molly's house and smelled the smoke, terror had run through his body. That fear had increased when he'd seen Olivia trapped under a pile of debris, the flames within a few feet of her.

  In his mind, he'd been taken back to the week before, when he'd lost a man in a similar circumstance. But he couldn't lose Olivia, not now, not when he'd just realized that he was falling in love with her.

  Thank God, he'd been able to get her out.

  He probably wouldn't have been able to do it if Keith Fletcher hadn't come back to help him. While the man had been willing to commit arson, his conscience wouldn't let him commit murder. Colton was grateful for that.

  After striding through the E.R. doors, Colton quickly located a nurse who took him to Olivia. When he walked into the exam room, he found Olivia sitting on the table, her back supported, her left leg stretched out in front of her, her ankle covered by an ice pack.

  She gave him a bright, happy smile and pulled the oxygen mask away from her mouth to say. "Colton, I am so glad to see you."

  "Likewise, babe."

  Her lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears. "I was so afraid—"

  He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight hug. He could smell the smoke in her hair and on her skin, reminding him of how close he'd come to losing her. But he hadn't lost her.

  He pulled back so he could see her face. And gently, he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his fingers. "You can't cry now. It's all over."

  "I think that's why I'm crying," she sniffed. "Sorry."

  "Don't apologize. You've been through a lot tonight. How's the leg?"

  "The x-ray showed a hairline fracture. The doctor wants to put me in a boot cast."

  "Sorry about that." He gave her a sympathetic smile. "But I'm glad it's not worse. How are your lungs?"

  "I'll be okay."

  "Put the mask back on," he ordered.

  "In a second. I want to thank you. If you hadn't come in when you did, I don't think I'd be alive."

  "But you are alive; that's all that matters."

  "What happened to Fletcher? He got out, didn't he?"

  Colton nodded. "He got out, and he's been arrested."

  "Well, at least he's not dead."

  He marveled at the fact that Olivia didn't wish him dead after the man had almost killed her. "No, Fletcher will survive, and he'll pay for what he did tonight."

  "What about what he did in the past? He was the one Molly went to for help. He turned her away."

  "Because he owed Stan money, and he was afraid of him, too," Colton said, realizing he needed to update Olivia. "I just got off the phone with my brother-in-law Max. The cops have been interviewing Fletcher for the past hour."

  "What did he say?"

  "Fletcher told Max that Stan was running a bookie operation back in the day, and a lot of cops were in debt to him."

  "Really?" she asked in surprise. "That's the first we've heard of that."

  "Yes, it was all very hush-hush. When Stan was killed, the police didn't investigate his death, because they thought one of them had killed Stan."

  "That's why the investigation was so short. Just when I start to think I know everything, I realize I don't."

  "When you started digging into the past, Fletcher was afraid that somehow his part in what had happened would come out, not just the gambling, but the fact that he'd turned the other way when an abused woman came to him for help. He thought it would screw his chances of being Chief of Police, something he's worked for his whole life."

  "He has no chance now that he's committed arson. I can't believe he was desperate enough to burn Molly's house down."

  "He was also the one who broke into your hotel room. You told him at the bar the other night that Molly had left you her journals. He was afraid of what she'd written about him. However, after taking the journals from the hotel room, he also started to wonder if there might be more evidence against him back at Molly's house. He was terrified that this book you wanted to write was going to reveal all of his past wrongdoings."

  "If he was worried about evidence, why didn't he try to find it before now? It's been so many years, Colton."

  "He thought he was safe. After the fire Molly didn't want an investigation into Stan's death. She didn't press the cops to keep going when they stopped. She didn't tell them Stan abused her. She wanted it all to just go away. "

  "I guess that makes sense," she said slowly.

  "It was your book project that made him realize he might not be safe after all. And he didn't just turn Molly away, he broke laws gambling with Stan, and he helped cover up what he was sure was Stan's murder."

  "Did he think Molly did it?"

  "He wasn't sure. He suspected Molly, but he also knew that a couple of cops were in a lot of debt to Stan, and if Stan died, so did their debts." Colton took a breath, then added, "Fletcher didn't think anyone would be in the house tonight. He knew Molly lived alone and that she was at the hospital, probably dying. In his twisted rationalization, he didn't believe anyone would care if her house burned down."

  "Until he realized I was in the house."

  "He claims he never intended to hurt anyone."

  "Well, he did help you free me, so I guess I have to believe that."

  "I wouldn't let him off the hook so easily. You wouldn't have been in danger if it hadn't been for him," he said sharply, the memory of his terror when he'd seen Molly's house on fire running through him again. "He could have killed you, Olivia. I want him to pay for that."

  She gave him a soft smile. "Hey, now who's thinking about something that didn't happen?"

  He blew out a breath. "Guilty. Anyway, I guess we have all the ans
wers now. Fletcher didn't help Molly and the cops didn't investigate because of Stan's bookie operation. And my grandfather killed Stan."

  "Colton," she said.

  He didn't like the gleam in her beautiful green eyes. "What?"

  "It wasn't your grandfather."

  "He told us how it all went down."

  "It was a good story, but it wasn't the truth, and you know it."

  Her words rang through him, and as he looked into her eyes, he realized he did know the truth. "Yeah, I know it. I just don't know what to do. I can't turn my grandmother over to the police."

  "It was self-defense, Colton. She hit Stan to save Molly."

  "She'd have to prove it in a trial. She can't go through something like that. She's sick, Olivia. You've seen what happens to her when she gets agitated."

  "Which is probably why no one would ever put her on the stand." Her gaze softened in sympathy. "But you don't have to turn her in. You don't have to do anything."

  "And that would be all right with you—considering that you may be Stan's granddaughter?"

  "I am his granddaughter. I didn't get to tell you, but before the fire broke out, I found this in Francine's music box. It's a note she wrote to her baby girl after she gave her away." Olivia pulled some paper out of her pocket. "Francine said that the only thing she asked of the adoptive parents was they call the baby Olivia, because that was her middle name."

  He smiled as Olivia got teary-eyed again, but this time there was a smile on her face.

  "It's a beautiful letter," she said. "I want you to read it."

  "I will, but not tonight. Tonight that letter is just for you to savor."

  She nodded and slipped the note back into her pocket, then gave him a smile that made his heart turn over. "Thanks for being so understanding. You've been amazingly wonderful the past few days. I don't think I would have gotten through them without you."

  "I feel the same way." His heart began to beat faster as he gazed at her, as emotions he'd never felt before, words he'd never said before threatened to spill out.