The Wrong Side of Dead

by Jordan Dane

  Normally Max had a vacant stare, but now he looked at her. His tear-filled eyes locked onto hers, and his lips moved without a sound, his frustration clear. She had to do something. And without Alexa’s help, whatever happened would be up to Jess.

  She had no one else.

  Sam stood outside the stone wall of the house on High Street, staring at the grounds awash in moonlight. No sign of movement and no lights, but with the windows boarded up, she didn’t expect to see much.

  Ray hadn’t arrived yet, so she was faced with a decision. Should she wait for backup to arrive?

  Taking a risk, she gripped her weapon and made her way around the perimeter of the house, looking for any sign that Jessie and Alexa had been there. Soft turf from the earlier rain made it slow going. And her shoes got caked in mud, but she got her answer as she neared the front door.

  Muddy footprints.

  Even under a cloudy night sky, she saw dark prints on cement. Two different sets. She listened for sounds coming from inside the old mansion. None came. But something else seized her heart in a cruel vise. She ran from the house and stood on the grounds to get a better look from a distance. It took a moment for her to see it.

  Through the boards covering the windows, a red glow flickered into the darkness. And soon she felt the heat and smelled the distinct odor of—

  “Smoke,” she gasped. “Oh, Jessie.”

  The first floor of the Millstone mansion was on fire. And she had no doubt Jessie and Alexa were inside.

  “Damn it!”

  Sam holstered her gun and raced to the front entrance. She charged the door and kicked, despite the boards nailed across it. She hit it twice, barely budging it. When that didn’t work, she yanked at the boards like a madwoman, hoisting a foot against the doorjamb to give her leverage. After one two-by-four came loose, she tossed it aside and tried again. This time she got a clearer shot and kicked again.

  It cracked open. And the heat from a wall of flames nearly blew her back, scorching her skin.

  “Jessie!” she yelled, and cowered, raising a hand to cover her face.

  When she didn’t get an answer, Sam shrugged out of her wet windbreaker and covered her mouth and nose with the damp garment. She took a deep breath and ducked through the door.

  She wasn’t going to let Jessie down this time.

  Jess heard a loud crack echo through the house, and someone yelled, but the words were garbled and she couldn’t make them out. She turned to see smoke filtering through the base of the door.

  “Fire…there’s a fire,” she cried, and scrambled to her feet.

  “No. NO!” Jake aimed his gun at her, but ran for the door. He grabbed the knob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open. “Shit!” With eyes bulging, he backed off and waved his weapon at her again, yelling, “You…Open it! Now!”

  Jess did as she was told, twisting the knob with both hands. It turned as if it were unlocked, but still didn’t open. She yanked on it again, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s not locked, but something is blocking it on the other side. I can feel it.” She took a step back and kicked the door. Still nothing. “If it’s bolted from the outside, we’re in trouble. Since you’ve got the gun, you gotta decide what to do, Jake.”

  The bartender had control of their situation, but when she turned, the man’s face looked stark white. His chest heaving, Jake looked as if he were hyperventilating. And fear gripped her when she remembered seeing the strange metal brackets screwed to the door. They looked like antique clothes hooks, but now she knew they were more than that. Someone had locked them in, bolted the door from the outside.

  “Who’s out there, Jake?” she pressed. “Who set you up?”

  She could tell by the look on his face that she’d hit the mark.

  “No, that can’t be…I didn’t kill her. I swear.” Fear replaced Jake’s crazed rage. “I never killed anyone.”

  With the noise in the room, Alexa stirred and moaned, raising a hand to her head. Wincing in pain, she rolled to one side. “What…happened?”

  Jess dropped to the floor near her and brushed back her hair. “Are you okay? Can you stand?” She helped Alexa to her feet. The woman was groggy and unsteady on her feet, but she quickly recovered.

  “Jake was telling me about Mandy, but we got a more pressing problem.”

  She pointed, and Alexa turned toward the door. When she saw the smoke, she shook her head. “This doesn’t look good for the home team.”

  “Yeah well, Jake’s not thrilled with it either. Apparently someone considers him a loose end. He’s locked in here, too.” She took off her jacket and tossed it to Jake. “Shove this under the door. Maybe we can block the smoke.”

  They were trapped in a windowless room. The fire would soon raise the temp to an unbearable level. And the air had already grown so hazy with smoke that Max had started to cough. Yet despite a fire burning the roof down over their heads, she thought about what Jake had said.

  “Wait a minute. You said you never killed anyone?” She stared at Jake, and he shrugged.

  “I lied…about the kid,” he admitted.

  “What?” She turned her back on Jake and stared down at Seth. “If you’re jacking with me, I’ll…”

  Jess raced to Harper and dropped to her knees. His head was turned toward the wall, and she couldn’t see his face. But she stroked his soft curls, something she wouldn’t have done with him conscious. He looked as if he was asleep. Tense and holding her breath, she placed a finger to the side of his neck. His skin was warm to the touch. It took her a moment to find it, but a faint pulse throbbed under her finger. And when she laid a hand to his chest, she felt the gentle rise and fall of very shallow breathing.

  “He’s alive,” she cried, stifling a laugh as her eyes blurred with tears. “Seth’s alive.”

  She turned him onto his back, cradling his head. His eyes fluttered, and he moaned. Pressed against her hand, she felt a large knot on the back of his head, and his hair was sticky with blood. The bartender must have been forced to slug him, not a smart move if he had intended to stage a suicide. All things considered, Jess found herself happy that Jake had a brain the size of a walnut.

  But with Seth staying unconscious for so long meant he probably had a concussion or worse. He needed a doctor.

  “Jessie?” Seth’s dark eyes opened, barely. He struggled to focus. And with the noise from the fire, she almost didn’t hear him. But his saying her name sent an adrenaline rush through her body that triggered a smile, despite their circumstances.

  “I’m here, Seth.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m right here.”

  “My father…”

  “He’s here, too.” She grinned.

  Seth shifted his eyes to gaze at his father, but Max surprised them both by reaching out a trembling hand. Harper took it, giving the man a weak smile.

  “Very touching, but this ain’t gettin’ us out of here.” Jake jerked an arm toward the door, the one holding the gun.

  But this time, Alexa had her fill of the bastard. She stepped between him and Seth, giving Jake a dose of reality.

  “Whoever did this wanted you in the house when it went up,” the blonde began. “This isn’t about making Harper’s suicide look convincing. You’re the one they want dead, Jake.” She glared at him. “And you better decide whose side you’re on, ’cause the way I see it—if you put the gun down and help us out of here—we can put in a good word for you with the cops.”

  “Jesus! You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake shook his head, but he finally shoved his gun into the waistband of his jeans.

  “Tell me this, tough guy, did you pick this room yourself?” When he didn’t answer, Alexa shook her head. “Admit it. You got suckered. No windows. Bolted in. It’s a damned death trap.”

  “No. You see, this was supposed to be the room where that Millstone asshole shot himself in the head,” Jake claimed with doubt in his eyes.

  “No it’s not,” Jess interrupted.
“And who told you he committed suicide? Max was the detective on the case, and he killed the bastard…rescued all the kids here.” When all eyes in the room focused on her, she added, “It’s true.”

  “Bullshit! You’re a liar,” Jake spat. “How do you know so much?”

  “’Cause I was one of those kids,” she admitted with her voice shaky. “Millstone died in the basement. I saw it happen. He died at my feet.”

  “Damn.” Jake shook his head, finally getting the picture. “We’re dead meat.”

  “Well, I’m not waiting around until I become one big s’more.” Alexa ran for the door and tried her luck, kicking a foot into the wood. She yelled and pounded on the door again and again, “Somebody…help us. We’re in here.”

  She braved pissing Jake off and went looking for her weapon on the floor. When she found it, Alexa only gave the bartender a threatening glance before she yelled, “Fire in the hole.”

  Seth made an attempt at shielding his father with Jess’s help. And Jake covered his head, cowering in a corner. Alexa nodded over her shoulder, then shot a few rounds into the wood around the doorknob and tried the door again. It moved, but not much.

  “Damn it, Jake. Someone really doesn’t like you,” the blonde said. “Hard to imagine.”

  Scared as he was, Jake still wasn’t talking about his accomplice, but Seth smiled as he watched Alexa.

  “I like her. She with you?” he asked, grimacing in pain as he tried to sit up. “Help me up, will you?”

  Jess hauled Harper to his feet and wedged a shoulder under him. She helped him sit next to his father and noticed the pain in Seth’s eyes. Every move must have hurt, but he tried not to let it show. Looking at Max, he clenched his jaw and wiped away a tear from the old man’s face with a gentle stroke of his thumb.

  Seeing the love Seth felt for his father should have made her happy, but it didn’t. All she could think about was the vile consequence of Danny Ray Millstone. The bastard was dead and still claiming victims.

  She forced a smile and put on a brave front for Seth and Max, but the last place she wanted to die was on High Street.

  CHAPTER 26

  When the smoke got so thick she could barely see, Sam got to her knees and crawled with her wet windbreaker tied over her mouth and nose. Her damp jacket had started to steam with the fierce heat. The only time she lifted the garment was to scream for Jessie, but it didn’t take her long to realize she had to conserve energy.

  And with the fire getting worse, she was running out of time.

  Everywhere she looked, the rooms glowed in blood-red amidst choking black smoke. Flames raged up walls and belched through doorways, consuming everything in sight. She felt the scorching heat on her skin. Even the hair on her arms singed when she got too close to the flames. And she smelled her hair smoldering.

  But she forced her mind to focus on her search, despite her growing fear. Another danger posed a problem.

  Not knowing what was burning, the closed-in structure made it a real possibility that superheated gases, carbon monoxide or hydrogen cyanide, might build inside the boarded-up house. A rolling structure fire could annihilate an old house in a hurry, but toxic fumes could kill anyone inside long before the fire got to them.

  Panic ate at her resolve, but she kept going.

  She had gotten through most of the first floor without a sign of Jessie or Alexa. A couple of back rooms were all that remained. With two floors above her, she had to cover ground without wasting time. And until she got upstairs, she had no idea how bad the fire was there.

  She pushed herself farther down the hall, making her way to every door, but a loud sound caught her off guard.

  “What the hell?” She raised up. “Jessie?”

  Sam heard a bang. A series of loud splintering cracks. To her ear it sounded like gunfire, but with the noise reverberating in the house, she couldn’t tell which way it came from. As the heat intensified, she crawled faster and deeper into the old mansion, gagging and coughing. She almost turned back but scrambled toward the last open door. Whoever set the blaze must have done it nearby. The flames were more concentrated toward the rear of the first floor.

  And a vaguely familiar medicinal odor was still in the air. She had smelled the odor before, yet couldn’t quite place it.

  But as she neared the door, a man came running from the room. Low as she was, he didn’t see her. The man tripped over her, his knee nailing the side of her face. The blow shocked her, and her head snapped back. Shards of pain racked her body as she rolled.

  Sam shook her head and blinked, noticing the man had taken a nasty fall. She pulled down the jacket she had covering her nose and mouth. And when her mind cleared enough, she yelled, “Police!”

  Ignoring her, he struggled to his feet and turned to run, but the cop in her wouldn’t let him go. She reached a hand for his pant leg and toppled him again. This time when he hit the floor, the man grappled her from behind and choked her with his forearm.

  She bucked against the death grip he had on her throat and pummeled him with her fists and elbows. But none of her blows did damage. Her muscles were growing weaker the more she struggled. In seconds, she lost feeling in her arms and legs. And her tongue had swollen, blocking any hope for air.

  Sheer panic mixed with deathlike indifference as she thrashed against him. She couldn’t breathe at all now, and her lungs burned from the strain. Her world faded in and out of black, darkness marred only by spiraling pinpoints of light—her final trace of consciousness.

  She was dying. And she knew it.

  “Quiet!” Alexa cried, yelling at Jake, who had taken to incoherent rants. “I think I hear voices.”

  She stepped closer to the doorway, listening. But when the sound faded to nothing, she pounded on the door. And after Jessie retrieved her Colt Python off the floor, she came to help.

  “Hey…we’re in here. Help us! PLEASE!” They yelled in unison. To make their point, Alexa reached for her gun again and yelled a warning, “Get down.”

  When the others ducked for cover, she fired a few rounds higher on the wooden door, angled toward the ceiling. She didn’t want to hit someone trying to rescue them.

  But no one responded. No one was coming.

  Alexa wiped her face with a hand. Her head ached as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. They had no more time, and she knew it. In desperation, she shoved her gun into the waistband of her pants and got to the floor on her back. She rammed both feet into the bottom half of the door in a mule kick. Once. Twice. The smoky air was making it harder to breathe, and she panted with the effort. And without a word, Jessie got down next to her and kicked with everything she had.

  The door was stronger than she would have imagined and her legs stung with every jarring blow. Soon, the heat and thickening smoke would make it impossible to do much damage. The exertion would be too much.

  Her thoughts turned to Garrett and the life he had opened her eyes to. She had only just begun to live the way she wanted—on the edge and without holding back for a tomorrow that might never come. It made her kick harder.

  She didn’t want to die like this.

  “Sam’s inside.” Ray Garza struggled against two firemen who held him back. “You gotta let me go.”

  He and a CPD tactical team had arrived on the scene about the same time as the fire crew. Both teams wanted to take over and do their jobs, but that couldn’t happen. The potential hostage situation with an armed gunman trumped the urgency of the fire—at least for now. That left highly trained firemen frustrated and sitting on the sidelines.

  And Ray knew exactly how they felt.

  “No one’s going inside.” A third man stepped in front of him, someone in authority dressed in a fire-department uniform. “You won’t be doin’ your friend any good if you die tryin’ to save him.”

  Ray glared at the man, letting his words sink in.

  “Sam’s a woman. A cop,” he clarified. “She called it in.”

  “I’m sor
ry.” The fireman gripped his shoulder. “Real sorry.”

  Ray quit fighting the two men who braced his arms, and they released him. For Sam’s sake, he couldn’t afford to lose it. Normally, the fire department had control of a fire, but under a dangerous hostage situation, tactical would have command. Yet knowing cops had the authority hadn’t made the waiting easier. He had to let the men do their jobs and accept that he wouldn’t be a part of the rescue operation.

  He took a deep breath and slumped against the hood of his unmarked police vehicle. Dressed in black BDUs, the tactical team had set up a perimeter to work the scene, but the blaze would dictate everything. A line of firefighters stood to his right. They could only watch as flames ravaged the old Millstone mansion. Each face had a grim expression colored by regret. He understood the anger of being forced to accept defeat before the fight had even begun.

  Damn it, Sam! Why didn’t you follow protocol and wait for backup?

  Dense black smoke tainted the air, and an intense red glow painted the night sky. Police and fire crews continued to arrive Code Three, with bystanders and news crews gathering at a distance. The scene looked and sounded chaotic, but nothing distracted him from imagining the horror Sam faced inside. He knew the minute he arrived and didn’t find her that she had gone into the burning building in search of her friend.

  Now she might pay the price for going in alone, and he could do nothing to save her. Ray shut his eyes and prayed. He only hoped God would hear him.

  A splintering crash brought Sam back, and spiraling heat swept past her. In a stupor, she wasn’t sure if she had imagined it. But when her eyes opened, billowing red sparks hung suspended above her head in clouds of swirling black smoke.

  The man who’d nearly killed her had let go. And her body had slumped back. A rush of air sucked into her spent lungs, and the effort shocked her already fragile system. Urgent need outweighed the distress of breathing the fiery air. But the act of taking that first breath almost finished the job her assailant had started.