Jenny could imagine it now. Models in Vera Wang draped over the latest in farming equipment. That would be a sight. She could make a name for herself with a photo spread like that. Perfect timing, she thought, as she selected her favorite mug from the mug tree. Just when I thought I had it all.
The kettle whistled on the stovetop and she reached over to turn off the element. As she did so, she heard a loud smashing sound coming from the living room, causing her to jump.
“What the?”
She hastened to the living room door and pushed it wide open. Her heart was racing.
She had only ever seen a Molotov cocktail in the movies. Nothing had prepared her for what was to happen next. There was no doubt in her mind that’s what it was. Broken, blue glass peppered the living room carpet. The burning rag that had been stuffed inside was spreading a red hot fire trail rapidly across the room.
Jenny panicked. She realized with horror that the house phone was on the other side of the room, and there was no chance of reaching it now, not safely. She remembered that her cell phone was in the kitchen and ran to grab it.
“Damn it! Damn it!”
She found it on the counter and fumbled with the keypad. The screen refused to come on and she realized with a sudden sinking feeling that she hadn't set it up to charge after arriving back from the funeral. The cable was still sitting on the counter. She had no way of reaching the outside world or calling for help.
Her heart racing a million miles a minute, Jenny’s chest began to constrict as extreme terror took hold. She turned her back on the counter, her fingertips digging into the wood as she watched the fire spread quickly out into the hall. It was moving faster and faster. Before long it would be upon her.
Jenny stuffed her cell phone and charger in the pocket of her sweater and ran for the back door. She grasped the metal handle and twisted and turned but it refused to open no matter how hard she tried. Desperate, she began to bang on the frosted glass but it refused to break underneath her fists.
Tears filled her eyes as she pounded, the roar of the oncoming fire in her ears.
She thought she could hear someone yelling in the distance, but it was wishful thinking. No one was going to help her out of this one. She would perish here in Ombrea, the one place she had tried so hard to escape.
Chapter 9
When Roy pulled his truck off the road and down the Dales’ laneway, he could sense that something wasn't right.
He had driven away that afternoon thankful that Jenny had finally allowed him to share his information, but it didn’t sit right with him that he’d left her so broken.
He was never one for comforting people, but for Joey’s sister, he would make an exception. He wasn't a flowers or wine type of guy. Instead he hoped the bottle of cheap whiskey bouncing beside him on the passenger seat would do the trick.
The Dale House was fairly secluded, but the trail of black smoke rising above the trees alerted him that something was wrong. He revved his beat up truck, hoping it would hold up as he navigated the back road as fast as it would run.
As he turned the corner that led to the house, he swerved, the truck tires spinning in the mud beneath. He cursed the heavy rain from the night before. The whiskey almost bounced onto the floor and he had to grab it at the last second to avoid it shattering.
He pulled to a sudden stop before the front gate. He could make out two figures standing side by side in the garden, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. One figure was little Isabelle Dale and the other the Dales’ elderly neighbor, Norma Green.
Norma was the first to spot him approaching.
“I've already called the fire brigade. They're on their way, but the firehouse is fifteen minutes out.”
She turned back to the house.
“Oh God, have mercy.”
Isabelle stared wide-eyed, as her home became engulfed in flames. Her hand was clasped tightly within Norma’s.
“Where's Jenny?” Roy asked the frightened child. “Where?”
Isabelle pointed inside, her eyes as large as saucers. She dropped Norma's hand and clung desperately to her frail arm instead.
“Stay here, and don't get any closer. It's not safe.”
Roy ripped off his jacket and tossed it into the grass.
“When the firefighters get here, let them know I went inside for Jenny.”
He left the girl in Norma’s care and ran for the front door. He busted it open with his shoulder and it crumbled easily under his heavy weight.
The fire inside the home burned hot and fierce, and it seemed to be coming from the living room to his left. The heat burned against his skin as he pushed on into the hallway in search of Jenny.
“Jenny? Jenny?” he shouted out, desperate to be heard above the roaring flames.
He didn't hear a response.
He winced as a heavy beam above the living room door collapsed beside him. A wave of dirt and debris fanned out and he put his arm up over his face to avoid the spray.
The wall of heat was completely unbearable. He had to squint to see further than a few inches ahead of him and his eyes ran. He held his arm up to his face, doing all he could to avoid breathing in the smoke.
“Jenny!” Roy bellowed again.
His throat felt dry and raspy from the pressure and lack of oxygen. He didn't know how many more times he could call out her name without turning back for air.
He could make out the entrance to the kitchen up ahead and pushed on, hurrying to avoid the inferno spreading across the living room. He dropped down to a crouch and entered the kitchen, trying his best to keep beneath the billowing smoke.
“Jenny!” he yelled again, this time louder. His chest heaved as he breathed, and he collapsed to his side, desperate for clean air.
He could feel the kitchen wall behind his back. Judging by how far he had come into the room, he guessed he had to be sitting near to the kitchen table. He could use it to pull himself back to his feet.
Roy shifted his weight to his right side until he could reach out and grab a wooden chair leg, then dragged it roughly across the tiled floor. He got a good hold of the wooden seat and brought himself to his knees, his chest heaving from the effort.
He willed himself to keep going. He had to pull through.
“Jenny!” He spluttered. “For the love of God, Jenny!”
“Roy!”
He closed his eyes in relief as her terrified face appeared in front of him. She had been tucked under the kitchen table, unsure of where to go. He grasped her hand tightly and pulled her out from beneath the table. Then he tucked one hand around her waist.
“To the back door,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Go!”
They half crawled, half crouched together across the kitchen, bowing under the darkening smoke cloud. She fumbled clumsily with the back door. Her sweaty hand slipped and slid on the metal handle.
“Let me!”
He gently moved her aside and reached for the handle himself, doing his best to ignore the roar of the inferno approaching them from behind. The sound of glass breaking as the frames expanded made them jump out of their skins.
Just when he thought they were out of time and luck, the door finally gave way. He used the last of his energy to propel her out into the daylight before he stumbled out himself, collapsing against the flagstones of the patio in a heap.
“Roy!”
He could hear her frightened cries as he lay exhausted on the cold stone. The dull roar seemed to be getting even closer than before. He would have to move away from the house if he wanted to survive.
“Come on!”
Jenny suddenly had a strong hold of his upper arms. He was heavy but she did her best to pull him across the flagstones, grunting and groaning as she forced her muscles to act.
Roy could feel the stone scraping at the back of his shirt. He fought his aching body to turn himself over and clawed his way onto the lawn and out of danger.
Roy and Jenny fell in a heap on the lawn
, her hands still clenched tightly to his shoulders. He gently shook her off and turned himself back over, wiping a heap of sweaty hair away from his forehead as he fought to catch his breath.
Roy could hear Jenny’s heavy breathing behind him. He pulled himself into a sitting position and reached for her hand. She took it and she squeezed his hand as hard as she could. Tears flowed steadily from her eyes.
“You okay?' he asked her softly. “You're not hurt, are you?”
She shook her head.
“No, I think I'm okay.”
She coughed into the back of her hand as she looked up at the house.
“I thought for sure I was going to die in there.”
He held her hand firmly. He had feared the same thing.
Chapter 10
A half-hour later and the fire was extinguished, but unfortunately, it had destroyed much of the ground floor. The firefighters had done their best, but the damage was done before they arrived at the scene.
The paramedics showed up just after the fire truck. Both Jenny and Roy had been declared fit to leave. Jenny had minor smoke inhalation, while Roy refused any medical help. He would be just fine, he protested, as they attempted to examine him.
Jenny thought Roy was being a complete idiot, but she decided it wouldn't do to tell him so, not after he'd just saved her from a fiery death.
Jenny and Isabelle stood outside the house watching the firefighters work. Norma had gone home to get them something hot to drink. It had been a stressful day for all of them.
“What are we going to do?” Isabelle asked. “Where are we going to sleep tonight?”
“Don't you worry.”
Jenny tried to be reassuring as she brushed Isabelle’s hair back from her face, but even she was unsure what their next move should be.
“I'll figure something out. I promise.”
Isabelle nodded and held her dolly a little tighter.
Roy approached a few minutes later. The darkness in his eyes confirmed what she had already known. This was not an accident, and something about the way Roy held his shoulders and stared directly into her eyes confirmed that he knew. Someone had tried to eliminate Jenny, and the house along with her.
“Are you two okay?” he asked gently. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”
“I know,” Jenny responded for Isabelle's benefit more than her own.
Roy paused for a moment to study her face. He looked as if he were about to respond when the wail of sirens filled the air. They turned back to the driveway just in time to see two patrol cars rolling quickly into view. Jenny could make out the silhouette of Chief Cartright in the front seat of the first car.
He slammed his door shut and strode across to meet them, three of his officers following quickly behind.
“Jenny.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a far cry from the way he’d treated her earlier that day.
“Are you okay? What the hell happened here?”
She glanced aside to Roy to gauge how much she should reveal. He gave a subtle shake of his head, so she stuck to the basics.
“I don't really know. It all happened so fast.”
The Chief frowned as he studied her face.
“Well, I'm glad you’re doing okay.”
He moved his attention down to Isabelle.
“And you too, little missy.”
“I wasn't even home,” Isabelle responded, her back pressed up against Jenny's legs. “Just Jenny.”
“Well, that makes you a very lucky little lady, then.”
“Very lucky, indeed,” Roy spoke up.
He laid a hand on Isabelle's shoulder.
“They won't be in a spot like that again, Chief.”
“No, I don't think they will,” Cartright replied. He forced a tight-lipped smile. “If you'll excuse me.”
He headed off in the direction of the fire chief, leaving the three of them alone again.
“Why don't you take Isabelle back over to Norma's house for the time being?” Roy urged. “She doesn't need to be here for this and I'm sure she could use some sleep.”
“Are you sure you don't need me to stay?” Jenny asked him. “With what I know?”
“Let the fire chief come to you once his initial investigation is complete. From what you told me, and from what I’ve see for myself, there will be plenty evidence to support what we know. I promise.”
Roy hoped his smile would reassure her that everything was going to be alright.
“Get on with you. I'll come find you soon, and you can stay with me at my cabin.”
“Okay.”
Jenny wasn't entirely convinced he was right, but she took Isabelle's hand and led her down the trail that would go behind the house and onto Norma's property.
“Just relax, okay?” Roy shouted out to them as they were leaving.
Jenny turned and gave him a wave before continuing on their way.
Roy watched them disappear before he turned his attention to the crime scene. Chief Cartright was deep in conversation with the fire chief. He inched forward a few steps to hear their conversation better.
“I'll take it from here,” Chief Cartright said, reaching for the fire chief's notes from the initial investigation. The fire chief was holding back. He kept his notes just out of reach, much to the frustration of Chief Cartright.
“If you don't mind, Chief Cartright, I'll hold onto these notes for now. This is still my crime scene, after all.”
“This fire was under suspicious circumstances, was it not? That makes it my business,” Chief Cartright insisted.
“And when I've concluded that is actually the case, I'll set about making it your business.” The fire chief held his ground firmly.
“Until then, if you'll excuse me, I have an investigation to run.”
“You will wind up regretting this.”
“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t,” said the Fire Chief snidely as he strode away, his notes in hand.
Chief Cartright was fuming.
Roy did nothing to hide that he had been watching the entire exchange when Chief Cartright turned to go back to his squad car. The two rivals glared at each other as they passed.
It couldn't be any more clear to him that the police were involved, especially Chief Cartright. Rumors indicated Chloe Dale had been stepping out on her husband, but they didn't indicate who she was actually stepping out with. He'd tried numerous times to find out via the usual grapevine, but no one had any idea. If the police were involved in the fire, maybe one of them had been Chloe's mystery man.
Still, he couldn't imagine what Chloe could possibly see in any of them, and especially not a creep like Cartright.
“It would be great if you would just pick up and move out of town, Peters. This town could use one less scumbag,” Chief Cartright scoffed as he passed. “Isn't it about time you moved on with your life? Let Joey Dale rot for his crimes?”
“I don't know. Seems like a big leap when all he's ever done is petty crime. I think you should focus on finding the real murderer.”
That was enough to get Chief Cartright to stop in his tracks. Roy hadn't noticed his deepening black eye before now. He thought it suited him and made a mental note to point it out to him. He did so enjoy getting a rise out of this asshole.
“You must be forgetting that he shot his wife, Peters.”
“I don't think that's ever really been proven, Chief.”
Chief Cartright stepped toward him, and Roy held his ground. He couldn't resist letting a smirk loose on his lips.
“I wouldn't if I were you, Chief,” an officer behind him spoke up.
He briefly held Roy's eyes before dropping them to the ground. Sheep, Roy thought. Sheep being led around by a wolf.
“Do what he says and back up,” Roy told Chief Cartright firmly. “Get your ass out of here while you still can.”
“Come on, Chief,” the officer urged again.
“Okay, okay. I'm going.”
The Chief held
Roy's eyes for a moment longer before turning his back and walking back to his squad car, his officers following behind.
Roy watched until they were out of sight, then made a beeline for the fire chief to make sure they hadn't missed the blue shards of glass Roy had seen inside the house.
Roy entered the Dale house an hour later for some of Isabelle and Jenny's belongings.
The fire chief had asked him to stay out of the house until they could finish up, but being an old friend, he also said he would turn his back if there were anything Roy needed to do. Roy grabbed an old sack from the back of his truck and stuffed it with clothing and toys from Isabelle's room before heading into the guest room to do the same for Jenny.
He found her duffel bag still packed at the end of the bed. She had been refusing to unpack, still uncomfortable with her fate. This made an easier job of collecting her things. He was almost out of the room when he paused at the door to do one last check around. That was when the glimmer of a shiny piece of paper on the windowsill caught his eye.
The photo propped against the old frame was of two teenage girls. One was Chloe with her dark, curly hair and her bright beaming smile. He'd only met her on a few occasions but he'd always found her to be lovely. He sensed that Chloe was unsure about him, especially after he had been let go from the police service, but she was kind enough to him when they did speak.
The other girl was Jenny. The Jenny he had met three days ago was well-manicured and put together. The girl in the photo had a streak of mud across her forehead and a smile that was almost as bright as her best friend’s. They looked like a pair of troublemakers, happy and carefree.
He tucked the photo in the front pocket of his checkered shirt for safe keeping.
Roy was at the top of the stairs when he thought to check out Joey and Chloe's bedroom. The door was closed, but he pushed on it nevertheless. It stuck a little in the old door frame before swinging open.
Sunlight shone through the thin white curtains, sending thin shadows across the big, double bed. Pictures adorned the walls, mostly of Isabelle, but some showed a once happy Joey. A large-framed, family portrait hung above the bed. Joey had his arms around Chloe who had a toddler version of Isabelle perched on her lap. Their old family dog, Patches, stood guard beside them.
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