Always Watching

by Lynette Eason

  Keeping her eyes on the hallway in front of her, the phone in her back pocket but still connected to the Bluetooth and Bree, she backed inside. A shadow highlighted against the staircase wall. A large shadow in the shape of a human.

  Olivia sucked in a deep breath, fought the wave of nausea the action brought with it, and shut the door. “There’s someone on the stairs.” She was nearly mouthing the words, her whisper was so quiet. She hoped Bree could hear her.

  “Where are you?”

  “In the master bedroom off the back of the house.”

  She twisted the lock, then turned and froze as her eyes landed on the floor behind her.

  The nausea tripled and she fought the need to lose the contents of her stomach. A woman lay on the floor next to the bed, the covers twisted around her. Her mouth and eyes gaped. Olivia gasped and gagged.

  “Olivia?”

  “Found the dead body. Where’s that backup?”

  Bree paused, said something to someone, then came back to Olivia. “Five minutes.”

  Olivia turned away for a brief moment before the need to survive kicked in. Footsteps fell on the thin carpet outside the room. The knob rattled but the lock held.

  Olivia held her breath and listened, her gun trained on the door. Whoever was on the other side didn’t speak or call out. Neither did she.

  “Olivia?” Bree’s voice came through the earpiece in her ear.

  “Shhhh.”

  Bree fell silent.

  Within seconds Olivia heard retreating footsteps. She figured the person was going to look for something to help gain entrance and Olivia didn’t plan to be there when the door opened. But first . . .

  She removed her phone from her back pocket. “Hold on a sec.”

  “You all right?”

  “For the moment.” Olivia shot pictures of the body and the room. She tried not to focus on the fact that the woman on the floor had been a living, breathing person. A person with dreams and hopes. A person who didn’t deserve to die like this.

  Anger started to burn away the shock of seeing the evidence of such violence. She’d seen a lot of horrible stuff as a police officer and she’d never gotten used to it. She’d learned to hide her reaction, mask her horror that people were capable of inflicting such evil on other humans, but she never got used to it. She’d promised herself she’d quit if she ever became indifferent to seeing scenes such as the one before her now.

  Urgency pushed her and she snapped shots from every angle she could before she knew she had to leave.

  Finished with the pictures, she moved to the French doors to see out. No tree to climb out on and shimmy down. Just a wrought iron balcony overlooking the backyard.

  The sharp smell of gasoline overpowered the dead body smell and she turned toward the odor, frowning. Wha—

  Smoke curled under the door and understanding hit her. “He’s set the house on fire, Bree. He’s smoking me out.”

  [30]

  Wade sat in the passenger seat of Haley’s car and made a conscious effort to relax his jaw. “How much farther?”

  “About a minute.”

  “Why isn’t she answering her phone?”

  “I don’t know. She’s probably busy taking care of whoever’s in the house with her.”

  He shot her a perturbed look she missed because her eyes were on the road. “She said there was a dead body.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t seem concerned.”

  Her fingers flexed on the wheel. “I’m concerned.”

  Wade sent up prayers for Olivia. When Haley had asked about a body, his heart had dropped to his toes. Then Olivia said someone was in the house with her and he grabbed his keys.

  Of course Haley had no choice but to take him with her. She’d snatched the keys from his fingers, told him to get into her car, and she climbed into the driver’s seat. Now the clock was ticking and Olivia wasn’t answering her phone. “So does she have help by now? Are the cops there?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “Can’t you call Bree or Quinn?”

  “Olivia said she was calling Bree. If Olivia needs me, she’ll call me back. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

  The muscles at the base of his neck and across his shoulders felt like they might snap. He rotated his head to no avail. He wouldn’t be able to relax until he knew Olivia was safe.

  “Can you get out?”

  Olivia was shocked at how quickly the smoke filled the room in spite of the fact that she’d moved fast and crammed a bedsheet into the crack of the door. The bedroom door was hot to the touch. No going out that way. She wasn’t worried about contaminating the crime scene at this point. She just wanted to get out alive. Flames had eaten through the bedsheet and now licked along the floor where the gasoline had soaked through.

  Sirens screamed in the distance and relief filled her even while it was short-lived. Help might be on the way, but she had to help herself too. She twisted the knob on the French door. It didn’t move. She shook it, rattled the knob, pushed. Nothing. For the first time since she’d realized she wasn’t alone in the house, panic started to creep in. Through the haze, she tried to see if there was a latch or something she needed to release in order to open the door.

  There. At the top. A sliding lock. She reached up and pushed, but again to no avail. Stuck. She wanted to scream in frustration, but refused to waste the breath. Each time she inhaled, she brought smoke into her lungs.

  Lungs that were starting to burn.

  She coughed, stepped back, and brought her leg up. She gave the area near the handle a hard kick. The door shuddered, but didn’t open. Flames crawled along the carpet and started on the bed coverings.

  She spun and grabbed the lamp off the end table, then whirled back to aim the heavy base at the glass doors. With a grunt, she slammed it into the glass.

  The door shattered outward onto the deck. Fresh air rushed in and hit the flames. Heat and smoke surrounded her. Dizziness assailed her and she stumbled, coughing. The flames now licked at the drapes of the window to the left of the French doors.

  She looked back, wondering if she had time to wrap Valerie’s body and drag her out of the room. She wanted to preserve the evidence but didn’t want to die trying. The heat smothered her. Smoke choked her. The bed was already burning. No time.

  She kicked out more of the glass to make room for her to slip through. The smoke followed her out onto the small deck made of wood and wrought iron. No bigger than six feet by five, there were no steps leading down and the wood beneath her feet was old and warped. And dry. If it caught fire, she’d have only seconds. Fresh fear hit her. She had nowhere else to go.

  Except over and down.

  Sirens screamed to a stop at the front of the house. She faced the backyard. Bree was still connected via the Bluetooth. “I need help getting down and I need it fast.”

  She looked down again. The small deck was on the second floor, which wouldn’t be such a terrible drop if it wasn’t for the fact that the house backed up to a sharp incline leading down to a creek with woods on the other side.

  She’d break her leg. Or her neck. The smoke thickened around her. The flames spread further. The stench of burning flesh reached her. She closed her eyes for a split second while she swallowed against the nausea rising in the back of her throat. Poor Valerie.

  Better to break bones or fry? “Come on, Bree, I need a ladder.”

  “Hang tight.”

  She looked down, coughing, dizzy, and still nauseous. The fire arched around her. “Hang tight,” she whispered. “Afraid that’s what I’m going to be doing.” Sparks shot at her and she hissed as they landed on her exposed skin. The dry wooden floor of the porch caught fire, the flames licking up the dry wood. Fast. The porch shuddered beneath her. “Uh oh.”

  “What?”

  Olivia didn’t have a choice.

  She swung a leg over the wrought iron railing. A loud crack sounded over the roar of the fire and she flinched. Her
right cheek stung like she’d been attacked by a swarm of bees.

  “Olivia!”

  “Bree—”

  The wooden floor collapsed and her tenuous grip on the wrought iron shifted as the structure sagged with the combination of the dropping wood and her weight. She clung, but her left hand slipped off—and her right wasn’t far behind.

  Haley froze. With the windows down, the chaos surrounding the situation was loud and clear. Another fire truck squealed to a stop and firefighters in their gear crawled down from their trucks like ants on a mission.

  A loud blast echoed through the neighborhood. The firefighters stopped and looked at each other.

  “What is it?” Wade asked.

  “That was a gunshot!” Haley said.

  Wade stared in horror at the flames licking through the roof toward the back of the house. He got out of the car and Haley yelled something at him.

  He ignored her. “Is Olivia in there?”

  She grasped his upper arm. “Get back in the car.”

  He jerked away from her. “Is she in there?”

  “I don’t know!”

  A black sedan rolled behind Haley’s vehicle. Bree and Quinn got out. Bree didn’t bother to shut the door, but took off toward the back of the house like she’d been shot from a cannon. Wade followed after her. He thought he heard Quinn shout at him, or maybe it was Haley, but he didn’t look back. Olivia had been talking to Bree on the way over. Wherever the detective was going, he was sure to find Olivia.

  Bree rounded the corner of the house. Wade followed her. A sharp drop-off to his right. He looked left.

  And gaped. “Olivia,” he whispered.

  “Oh my g—” Bree shot forward with Wade right behind. “Hang on, Liv!”

  “I’m trying!” Olivia dangled two floors up, one hand grasping the wrought iron railing, feet trying to find a foothold around the part of the railing that would lead her to the ground. If she could wrap her legs around it, she could ride it like a firehouse pole. But she couldn’t quite reach it.

  Another crack sounded, kicking up the dirt in front of him. Bree hollered and dropped to the ground. Wade flinched, but stood his ground, never taking his eyes from Olivia. If she dropped, the momentum might carry her down the rocky hill. She hung low enough that if she dropped to the ground just below her and didn’t roll, she should be fine.

  Haley barreled into him and shoved him behind her.

  “I’m going after the shooter!” Quinn shouted.

  He heard Quinn’s footsteps head to the woods where the gunshot had come from. Bree was on her phone screaming for someone to get around to the back of the house with a ladder.

  “I’m really not happy with you,” Haley said in his ear to his right. He noticed she’d placed herself between him and the direction the bullets had come from. She tried to move him in the direction of the car, to safety. Guilt stabbed him. “Haley, please protect yourself. I’m not moving to safety until Olivia’s out of danger.”

  “How is getting shot going to help her?”

  “It won’t. But look. If she falls—”

  Haley finally saw what he saw and swallowed, glanced in the direction Quinn had disappeared and nodded.

  “Yeah. We can’t let her fall. Where’s that ladder, Bree?”

  Wade moved closer, his heart thundering, prayers lifting from his lips as he focused on Olivia. If she let go or lost her grip, he was going to catch her. Or at least break her fall and keep her from rolling down the hill and into the creek. Rocks, sticks, broken branches, and tree stumps littered the drop-off. If she fell onto one of them, she could be impaled. Just like her friend.

  He knew she’d already thought of that. Probably why she hadn’t let go yet. His pulse thundered in his ears. He waited for the sound of another crack, the feel of a bullet to pierce his skin, but he wouldn’t move.

  “Got the ladder! Everyone out of the way!”

  He met Olivia’s eyes. Desperation and pain stared down at him. Along with a harsh determination. Flames licked around her. The heat had to be intense. Wade could feel it and it almost drove him back. How was she holding on?

  And then she wasn’t.

  She tumbled toward him. He let his body relax and accepted her hit. He wrapped his arms around her as he went down. The force of the impact from both Olivia on top of him and the ground beneath blew the breath from his lungs.

  He lay there stunned, his world fading to gray, sounds dulling, his lungs straining. And felt himself start to roll down the hill. He thrashed his legs. Anything to stop the momentum.

  Then he jarred to a stop, heard the chaos, felt Olivia pulled from his grip. “Watch her hands, she’s got burns,” he gasped.

  “Sir? Are you all right?”

  He was finally able to drag in a full breath. He coughed and struggled to sit up. No sharp pains so he figured he hadn’t broken anything. “Olivia? Is she all right?”

  “Let’s get you away from here.”

  “Olivia?”

  “She’s being treated, now come on,” Haley urged him. He felt her tug on his arm. “Can you stand up?”

  “Give me a second.” The world quit spinning and his eyes settled on the firefighters aiming the hose at the blaze that had taken out most of the back of the house. Sparks flew, debris fluttered down, and smoke curled around them. He coughed and allowed the paramedic and Haley to help him to his feet. “Did they catch the shooter?”

  “Bree and Quinn have gone after him,” Haley said.

  “Him?”

  “Or her. Whoever it was.”

  Wade nodded, but his eyes sought Olivia. And found her on a gurney being led to the back of an ambulance. She had a sheet pulled all the way over her head.

  [31]

  “No!”

  Olivia blinked and coughed, heard the one-word cry of desperation through the roaring in her ears. Or was that the roar of the fire? She felt the softness beneath her, but the bouncing was making her sick. Finally, the movement stopped. The sheet was pulled back and an oxygen mask slapped over her face.

  She shoved it away and winced at the pain in her palm.

  The mask came back. “Leave it there a bit, will you? You’ve inhaled quite a bit of smoke.”

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but decided to obey for the moment. Get her scrambled thoughts in order. Take a physical inventory. It didn’t take long to figure out everything hurt.

  “Olivia?”

  “She’s not dead, Wade,” she heard Haley say. “They pulled the sheet up to keep the debris from falling on her.”

  No, she wasn’t dead. Had she passed out? Maybe for a split second. She’d fallen, though. She definitely remembered that. The pain had been too intense and she’d let go.

  She forced her eyes open. Wade. She heard the commotion, the firefighters yelling, the water pulsing. Clarity returned. She sat up with a gasp, shoved the mask off once more. “He shot at me!”

  Wade laid a hand on her arm. “Bree and Quinn are after her.”

  The paramedic took her right hand in her gloved one. “Keep the mask on for now.” She nodded to the hand. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

  Olivia finally acknowledged the pain and looked down. Blisters coated her palm and fingers. She grimaced. At least it wasn’t her gun hand.

  While the woman doctored her hand, Olivia took another pull on the oxygen. She coughed when it hit her lungs. The paramedic didn’t blink, just slathered some ointment on her wound and started wrapping her hand in gauze.

  Olivia looked at Wade and swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

  He nodded.

  “You put yourself in danger.”

  “I couldn’t just stand around and do nothing.”

  She pursed her lips. “Yes, I know.” And she did. She might be his bodyguard, but his male protective instincts wouldn’t allow him to stay in a comfort zone while people put themselves in danger for him and those he loved. Unfortunately.

  It wasn’t a new twist. She’d come across thi
s before with men, of course, but Wade put a whole new meaning to the phrase “actively involved.”

  For those on the outside looking in, it might appear that Wade was acting foolishly. But she understood his type of personality and knew it was just part of his genetic makeup, his DNA. And something she’d have to take into consideration from now on. Instead of working against him, trying to fight him into submission, she’d have to include him in whatever plans they made. Or he’d include himself.

  She looked behind Wade. Bree and Quinn walked toward her. She didn’t have to ask. The looks on their faces were enough. “Do you know where she went?”

  Quinn shook his head. “She had a vehicle waiting.”

  Bree’s lips tightened and she shook her head. “I’ve called in the location. Law enforcement has the vehicle description. They’ve already released a BOLO. Hopefully someone will spot the car soon.”

  Olivia stared at the burning structure. She figured the neighbors on either side had been evacuated, the others stood on their porches and rubbernecked.

  The medical examiner had arrived. Francisco Zamora looked like a cover model more than an ME, with his curly black hair and perfectly complected olive skin. He stood a fraction under six foot three and didn’t let his profession spoil his good humor.

  His eyes caught hers and he walked toward her. “You all right?”

  His light Hispanic accent soothed her raw nerves. Kind of like being in Wade’s presence. She frowned. “Peachy.”

  “I see that. Glad I’m not going to find you on one of my tables.”

  Her frown slipped into an outright scowl. “Trust me, I’m more glad than you are.” She sighed and with her good hand worked her cell phone from her pocket. She looked at it with a grunt of satisfaction. Her slam into Wade hadn’t damaged it. “That LifeProof case was worth every penny.” She handed the device to Francisco. “Text yourself the last two dozen or so pictures. I’ll have to hand them over to the authorities shortly.”

  “You took pictures?”

  “Yes.”

  “When the house was burning?”