“What?” She blinked at him as she sat up straight. Suds cascaded down her chest. Her hair was up in a damp bun.
“I have to get you out of here.” The roar of fear in his mind had masked the sound of the sirens, but now they sounded loud and clear. The bathroom had only a skinny window near the ceiling. Through it, he spotted stars, as if everything were normal.
She continued to stare at him, obviously too shocked to comprehend what he was saying.
“Get out of the tub. We have to get out of here. I think the stairs are on fire.”
Sophie blinked and then stood. “My robe.” She pointed to a terry cloth robe that hung on the back of the door.
He pulled it from the hook just as she stepped out of the water. “Put it in the water. Get it fully soaked,” he said. Frantic, he grabbed a stack of towels neatly folded on a shelf and plunged them into the water. “Please hurry, baby. We’re on borrowed time.” He wrung out the towels and shouted at her. “Put on the robe. Now.”
She stood holding the wet robe against her torso, her eyes wide with terror.
“Please, Soph, listen to me.”
She nodded and wrestled her arms into the heavy material.
“Put on those, too.” He pointed at a pair of pajama bottoms folded on the back of the toilet. “We’re going to have to climb out of here.”
Nico pressed the wet towels against his chest. “Stay behind me.”
They ran out of the bedroom and into living room. Flames had engulfed the front door. Sophie screamed. A sound filled with such terror that it might have stopped his heart for an instant. He cursed as he looked toward the bank of windows that faced the street. They’d have to go out the windows. Two stories. They would have to jump. He ran to the windows with Sophie right on his heels. Below them, a crowd gathered. Still no fire trucks, only their lonely squawk in the distance. He spotted Trey and David, motioning frantically toward the apartment. They knew he and Sophie were up here. Of course they did. The green leaves of a tall oak fluttered at him, as if trying to communicate. Come to me. Use me. Her thick branches were perfect for climbing from the bottom up, but what about the other direction?
The flames were spreading farther across the opposite wall. Black smoke stung his eyes and chest. “Hold your sleeve over your mouth,” he said to Sophie. “And get close to the window.”
He glanced at the shelf next to them for something to break the windows with and spotted a large dictionary. No, that wouldn’t do. He needed something heavier.
As if she read his mind, she reached behind the shelves and came back with a steel baseball bat. “Intruders,” she said, hoarsely.
He smashed the large window, once, then again, then again until it shattered. A curved branch close to the window would serve as a good first step. “You’re going to scoot out to that big branch, okay?” Thank God she was tall and blessed with long limbs.
She nodded. “But how?”
“I’m going to hold on to you while you reach for that skinny branch. Do you see there?”
“Yes, okay.”
“Straddle the window frame first.” He held her by the waist as she lifted one leg over the ledge. When she had it straddled, she looked back at him. “I’m scared.”
“I’ll keep hold of you as you swing your other leg over.”
“Yeah, okay. I can do this.” She muttered this under her breath, but she was shaking violently.
“I’m right here. I won’t let go.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist as she lifted her other leg over the ledge.
“What if I can’t reach it?” she asked. “It seems really far away.”
“I know it does, but that’s just your eyes playing tricks on you. I’ll give you a little push as you do a pull-up on that branch, then swing your legs out to straddle the wide one.”
“A lot of straddling going on here,” she said with a nervous laugh that turned into a sob.
“You can do it, baby.” He spoke into the wet shoulder of her bathrobe. “I’ve got you from behind.”
He felt her take in a sharp breath. “I’m ready.”
“Here we go.” Please God, stay close to her.
She lurched forward at the same time he nudged her. Easily she reached the skinny branch with both hands, then swung her legs up and over the larger one, straddling it like a gymnast on a bar.
“You’re awesome,” he said, meeting her scared eyes with his.
“Nico, I forgot my dad’s journal.” Tears streamed down her face.
He knew instantly what she meant. The journal her father had left her. “Where is it?”
“The bathroom. On the little table by the tub.”
Without hesitating, he ran back into the bathroom. There it was—just a black notebook, but her life was in there. Her father’s life.
By the time he was back in the room, the fire had spread across the floor and engulfed the couch in a blaze so hot he had to wrap a wet towel around his head. Coughing, he stumbled to the window. He looked down below to see Sophie standing between Trey and David. That’s my strong, brave girl. She’d managed to find her way all the way down the tree. He almost wept with relief. All three of them squinted up at the window, obviously looking for his return. He tossed the journal out to them. David caught it, then yelled something up to him he couldn’t hear. The roaring of the blaze behind him was as loud as a freight train.
Without calculating too much, he shrugged off the wet towel and scooted onto the window’s ledge. He took a deep breath, then jumped to the branch, swinging like a wild animal, just as he had in childhood. When he was wrapped around the large branch, he whispered a silent thank-you to the tree.
His feet landed on grass just as the fire truck arrived. He ran across the street to where Sophie and his friends waited in front of the grocery store. Sophie threw herself into his arms. He held her tightly, feeling the rapid pace of her heartbeat against his own chest.
“I was so afraid,” she said. “So afraid you wouldn’t come out.”
“It’s all right. I’m here. We’re both safe.”
She became almost deadweight in his arms. He gently helped her to sit under the oak in front of the grocery store. The sister oak to the one that had saved them. Probably planted at the same time by a man or woman with the intention of making their town beautiful with no idea that someday one of them would save two people from an awful fire.
As she slumped against the trunk of the oak, Sophie’s wet bathrobe, stained with dirt and speckled with bark and leaves, gapped at the chest. He pulled it closed and sat next to her with his arm around her shoulder. Around them, patrons and curious onlookers huddled together in front of the grocery store entrance, watching as part of the history of their town was decimated in front of them. The heat of the fire was like standing too close to an open oven, but no one seemed to notice. Including Sophie, who had not stopped shaking. From fright or the wet robe or both?
“It’s all going to go, isn’t it?” she asked.
Stunned into silence by the sight in front of him, he merely nodded. What could he say? She was right. The building could not be saved. Everything was happening too fast. He wasn’t an expert, but he knew the bottles of liquor had boiled in the thousand-degree heat and popped their tops, thus feeding the flames. If the initial fire had indeed started from the kitchen, the vats of oil would have also exploded.
The building crackled and hissed like an enraged monster. Great clouds of orange flames billowed out the picture window and engulfed the outside tables and umbrellas. In his imagination, he saw the old wood of the beautifully crafted counter destroyed, as well as the tables and booths where so many had spent enjoyable afternoons and evenings.
Like wicked tongues of that monster, flames suddenly burst from the upstairs windows. He shuddered. Minutes ago, they’d stood in that exact spot.
His attention turned to the firefighters as they wrestled huge hoses from the sides of their truck. A ladder sprang up from the top of the truck, and one of
them climbed it while carrying a hose with him.
The firefighters turned the mouths of the hoses toward the fire. Great torrents of water gushed from the hoses but seemed to have little effect on the blaze.
The flames licked their tree. Leaves melted. The branch they’d reached for caught on fire. Not the tree, too?
Sophie sobbed into his shoulder. “Hugh, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Awful billows of black smoke rose in the air as the firefighters continued to spray the fire.
Bobby appeared by their side, seemingly out of nowhere. He dropped to the ground and took Sophie in his arms. “I was scared to death you didn’t make it out.”
“It was Nico,” she whispered. “Or I wouldn’t have.”
Bobby closed his eyes for a second before turning to Nico. “You’re one brave son of a bitch.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Zane Shaw pushing through the crowds. Dressed in sweats and a rumpled T-shirt, with his thick blond hair sticking up in all directions, he looked as if he’d been asleep when he got the call.
Zane was at the front of the crowd now, standing with one hand covering his mouth. The orange glow of the inferno illuminated his face as tears streamed from his eyes. Then he jerked violently and shouted Sophie’s name. He moved in a circle, obviously scanning the flock of onlookers for his sister. “Sophie? Where’s Sophie?”
Nico hadn’t realized David and Trey were standing so close until he saw them rush over to Zane. They each took an arm and led him over to where he and Sophie still huddled under the tree. “See, Sophie’s here,” David said.
“Safe.” Trey helped Sophie up as Nico used the tree to support his weight until he was also on his feet. Shaky as his legs were, he kept one hand on the bark.
Sophie flung herself into her brother’s arms. They stood holding on to each other as their family’s business continued to burn. “I was upstairs when it started,” Sophie said, then explained about her headphones and that she’d been completely unaware of the fire. She spoke in short, staccato sentences, as if she might cry at any moment. “Nico rescued me. I might’ve died otherwise.” She shivered and lifted a hand toward the upstairs of the building. Her voice rose to a higher pitch. “Do you see there? We escaped out of the windows right before the fire took over the entire upstairs.”
“Thank God you’re all right.” Zane wiped his eyes. “I always liked that tree.” He turned to Nico and held out his hand. “Thanks, man. That took a lot of guts. I’m thankful.”
Zane kept hold of his sister’s arm but directed his question to David and Trey. “Everyone got out?”
“Yes, everyone’s okay,” Trey said. “The staff in the kitchen were able to escape through their door. The customers all ran out the back or front.”
“A lady shouted to us from the bathroom window,” David said. “There were four women trapped in there. The fire was in the hallway, so they couldn’t get out that way. We dragged a table over to the window and broke the glass.” He explained how they’d used a rock they’d found in the parking lot to break the window. He pointed to four women Nico didn’t recognize who were now being looked at by paramedics.
Sophie had gone perfectly still. “Bobby, where’s Jamie?”
“She went home with the young man before the fire started,” Bobby said. “She’s fine.”
“Thank God.” Sophie buried her face in Nico’s shoulder. Nico instinctively tightened his hold on her.
“Sophie,” Zane said softly. “Do we know what happened? How did the fire start?”
Sophie lifted her head. “I don’t know.”
“We think it started in the kitchen,” David said.
“I thought I heard an explosion,” Bobby said. “Like a bomb went off. Then everything went up in flames.”
Zane’s eyes were fixed once again on Nico. “How’d you know Sophie was upstairs?”
“We’d talked before she went up there,” Nico said. “I watched her walk around the building.”
“When I think what might’ve happened if you hadn’t known—” Zane’s voice broke.
“It’s okay, Zane. I’m fine.” Sophie smiled at him through her tears. “Everyone’s fine.”
Zane reached out to Trey, who steadied him. “Jesus, I can’t believe this,” Zane said. “Dad’s whole life is right there.” He watched the burning building with unblinking eyes. Nico could only imagine his thoughts. This was his father’s business. Zane had worked there all his life. He’d grown up in the apartment overhead until only a few years ago when he’d married Honor.
The firefighters still had their hoses pointed into the flames. Several areas were now obscured by thick black smoke.
They all watched in silence as the building collapsed board by board.
“I’m sorry, Zane,” Sophie said, sobbing.
“It’s not your fault. Probably a grease fire.” Zane rubbed his hands over his face. “It happens in kitchens all the time, but why didn’t the new sprinklers go off?” he asked under his breath, as if talking to himself.
“I don’t know,” Sophie said. “The guy was supposed to come earlier today, remember? But he’s having a baby.”
Sophie, usually so confident and well-spoken, seemed completely undone and terribly young. A tremendous tenderness stirred in Nico. He should protect her at all costs. From guilt and lame maintenance workers. From every little and big thing that came her way.
A terrible crash penetrated the night as one side of the building fell.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Sophie whispered, clutching her father’s journal in her hands.
“It’s all right,” Nico said. “No one was hurt. That’s all that matters. We can rebuild.”
“It’s gone. All gone,” Sophie whispered. “Everything Hugh built is gone.”
They all watched in horror as the rest of the building collapsed in a smoky black mass.
8
Sophie
* * *
Just before dawn, after statements and eyewitness accounts from the staff, Sophie stood on Main Street with Zane and Nico. Trey and David had finally gone home. Nico had followed Trey back to Autumn’s to get clothes for Sophie to change into but had returned a half hour later. She’d gratefully accepted the leggings and T-shirt until she realized she had nowhere to change. Zane had directed her to his car, where she took off the disgusting damp bathrobe and dressed.
They had a few answers about how the fire had started, but those facts only led to more questions. The cooking staff had told the police they’d been in the process of closing up when a loud explosion sounded in the corridor between the kitchen and bathroom. The fry cook, who’d been closest to the explosion, believed it to have been a common homemade pipe bomb. No one had seen who’d thrown the bomb. Whoever had done it, they guessed, might have knowledge of the kitchen layout, because it exploded very near the deep fryer. Whatever it was burst into flames, which, according to the dishwasher, took off like a bat out of hell. The fire alarm went off seconds later. They’d escaped out the kitchen door that opened into the alleyway and had run around to the front to help get customers out as quickly as possible while warning everyone not to go toward the back. With the large picture windows all open, people had been able to spill out to the street quickly and without trampling one another.
Meanwhile, Trey and David had rescued the ladies in the bathroom and Nico had gone upstairs for Sophie. The fire captain said between the deep fryers and booze, the fire had quickly spread to the second floor.
Now, finally, bleary from smoke and lack of sleep and the horrible knowledge that the place she and Zane had loved so much was gone, she worried her legs might collapse beneath her. There was the staff to think of, too. Even if they rebuilt quickly, there would be months and months without work. Would insurance cover the costs to rebuild? And what about the lost revenue?
The ground under her feet seemed to quiver as the thoughts piled up one after the other.
The reali
ty that her apartment and her things were gone hit her like a fist to the gut. She clung to her father’s journal and took in deep breaths. Passing out at this point would be ridiculous. The worst was over. And she was alive. Thanks to Nico.
He’d charged through the gates of hell to save her.
They stood there now, looking at the charred embers. The fire had burned so hot that almost nothing was left. They could make out metal parts, remnants of the walk-in cooler and freezer, but mostly it was lumps of nothing recognizable.
She realized she was clutching something in her hand and looked down to see a small bottle of pills. Doc Waller had given it to her with the instruction to take two before she went to bed. Something to take the edge off, he’d said. She handed them to Nico. “Put these in your pocket.”
He did so without comment, but his forehead was all wrinkled up as though he was worried about her.
“Sophie, you’ll stay with us until we can figure out a place for you to live,” Zane said, sounding as exhausted as she felt. “You’ll have to sleep on the couch or in Honor’s office.”
Next to her, Nico steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. “You should stay with me, or rather with Mrs. Coventry. She has an enormous house with several guest rooms.”
Zane was eyeing him suspiciously, so Nico quickly pointed out that his apartment was separate from the main house.
“Mrs. Coventry won’t mind if Sophie spends a few nights there. It’ll be more comfortable for her.”
Zane ran his hands through his hair. “It would probably be better. The kids get up so early, and there’s really no space for you. Tomorrow, we can ask Brody and Kara if you can stay in their pool house.” Brody and Kara had a huge home about five miles out of town. She didn’t really want to stay with them, but she might not have a choice.
“It’s the best option for now,” Nico said, sounding surprisingly authoritative. “Mrs. Coventry will be happy to help in whatever way she can.”
Sophie had met Mrs. Coventry a few times when she’d been over to visit Nico. She was seventy years old and skinny as a pubescent boy, but as sharp as a Wall Street wizard.
Jilted Page 8
