Shirley and Annie laughed together then, ignoring Jack’s baleful expression. “Good one, Shirley,” Annie said. “That’s a fair trade. When does this happen?”
“In November. Two weeks. That’s why I needed my credit card balance. As soon as I got your message, I booked the cruise. Then I told Jack we could come home.”
Will sneaked a look at Jack, whose glare had mellowed into a half-smile.
The talk slowly died as they ate the cheese and crackers. Annie filled Jack in about the fires, omitting what had happened in the barn. Probably waiting for a better time. She also left out the suspicions about Henry Krause, though Jack himself muttered at one point, “Henry would never endanger his birds.”
When Will realized it was getting late—his plans to spend the night in the yard now moot—he pushed back his chair. “Guess I should get going. Will you need me in the morning?” He didn’t know where to direct this question, so kept his gaze fixed between Annie and her father. He did catch the expression on Annie’s face and knew she felt as let down as he did.
Before Jack had a chance to speak, Annie said, “Will was going to sleep in his van in the yard tonight, Dad. In case the arsonist happened to come by.”
Jack shot Will an incredulous look. “Yeah?”
Will knew that without an explanation about the rock and note, the reasoning sounded lame. He started toward the door when Annie said, “I’d like you to come back, Will. Okay? I think it’s still a good idea for you to stay here tonight.”
He knew she was sending him a message—that she was still worried the creep might come back. Her father would be of little help.
“Sure. I’ll go get some things and maybe check on Henry, while I’m at it.”
She walked him out to the van. “Don’t be put off by Dad,” she said. “He’s gruff and grouchy, but if you give it right back, he’ll bend a bit.”
“He seems okay. I’ve known crankier, believe me.” He ran his fingertip along the curve of her cheek. “I just wish—”
“Me, too,” she said, snuggling into him. “You can’t imagine how much.”
“I think I can.” They stood locked together for several minutes until Will dropped his arms. “I’ll be back in about half an hour.”
“And I’ll be waiting,” she promised.
As he drove down the lane, he kept his eyes on the rearview mirror. There was enough light from the kitchen to see her wave goodbye, her dress shimmering in the shadows.
When he passed Henry’s, the place was in darkness. He slowed, debating whether to disturb the poor guy or not. No doubt he was enjoying a much-needed sleep. On the way back to Annie’s, he’d drop by and check out the pigeons and the yard. Make sure things were okay.
He was surprised to see Sam’s SUV parked in front of the office. There weren’t any lights visible inside, but perhaps he was in a back room. Now would be a good time to let Sam know that, although he was packing up his things, he’d likely be back. Somehow he didn’t think Jack Collins would be happy about a prolonged camp-out in his farmyard.
He left the van next to the SUV and knocked sharply on the office door. It was unlocked, so Will stepped inside.
“Sam?”
Silence. Will thought he saw a crack of light beneath a door at the end of the office area and headed for it. He knocked. “Sam? You in there?”
He pushed it open into what appeared to be a storage room. Shelves lined three sides of the small area, filled with an assortment of tools and containers of what looked like nuts, bolts and screws. He stood still, listening for any sounds that would suggest the man was even on the premises. Has to be here somewhere, he thought. His SUV was still warm and he wouldn’t go home without it. He walked farther into the room and that was when he noticed it. The faint but unmistakable odor of gasoline.
Frowning, he followed his nose to the end of the room, where he found a red metal gasoline can. Two green bottles lay next to it. Heart pounding, Will turned one of the bottles over in his hands to read the label. Krause’s Fine Wines.
He stared in disbelief, thinking at first that the arsonist had been interrupted in the act of making up another Molotov cocktail. But images and snippets of conversation flooded his mind. Sam appearing magically on the spot at his own fire here. The laundry shed that was insured. Sam mysteriously absent at some of the other fires.
Will dropped the bottle and ran.
ANNIE WAVED goodbye to Shirley and, wrapping her arms around herself against the unexpectedly cool night air, went back into the kitchen. Shirley had helped her get Jack upstairs to bed before she left. In spite of his protests, they could both see he was tired. There’d been a rush of whispering on the way down to the kitchen afterward, as Shirley recounted the events that had brought them home.
“Basically he felt cooped up staying in someone else’s house,” she said. “My cousins watch a lot of television and Jack couldn’t stand that. Anyway, I’ve been wanting to go on a cruise for ages and, seeing a window of opportunity—isn’t that what they call it?— I took it.”
“Good for you,” Annie said, hugging the other woman.
But the problem of having her dad home again sank in with full force the instant Annie returned to the kitchen. She’d have to temper the new relationship that was developing between her and Will. And of course, she could no longer defer telling her father about Cara. Maybe tomorrow morning. Get it over with right away. For some reason, the thought of doing it while Will was there made it less daunting.
Will. She was glad she’d insisted he come back, though heaven only knew if she’d have the nerve to creep out to the van to him. Still, just knowing Will would be there was reassuring. She checked the time. He’d been gone more than an hour. Perhaps he’d visited Henry. She called him on his cell phone and let it ring more than a dozen times. Annie knew he kept it on all the time, in the event of a fire. Had something happened?
She paced the room, considering all the plausible explanations. But an inner voice nagged her. He’d answer the cell phone. Wherever he was and whatever he was doing, he wouldn’t let it ring. Knowing she’d never get to sleep anyway, she grabbed the keys to the pickup and was on the road in less than five minutes.
As she drove by Henry’s place, she slowed to see if Will’s van was there. Things looked quiet and the house was in full darkness. She headed for the campground. The first thing she noticed was Will’s van parked in front of the office. And the office door was ajar.
She waited a moment, half hoping Will would come sauntering out. Then she cautiously stepped down from the truck. Pausing at the van to peek inside, she noticed something on the floor. Reaching down, she picked up the cell phone.
Her heart pumped harder. She forced herself to stay calm as she walked to the office door. “Will? Are you in there? Will!”
Some inner sense told her he wasn’t. Not with the phone in the van. Lying on the floor, as if someone had tossed it there. Something was wrong. She went back to the truck and waited a few more seconds. Panic started to rise inside. She didn’t know Sam Waters’s phone number, but the cell phone had the fire alert and Scotty’s number programmed.
The phone rang several times before the captain finally picked up, his brusque greeting making her wince. God, she hoped she wasn’t imagining things.
“Scott, it’s Annie Collins. Sorry to bother you but I’m at Rest Haven and I can’t find Will. He was supposed to check on Henry Krause and then return to the apiary. But he hasn’t shown up and when I got here, his van was here with his cell phone in it. That’s what I’m using to call you and—”
“Whoa, Annie! You’ve lost me. Why are you worried about Will?”
Annie clenched her teeth. “He wouldn’t go anywhere without his cell and I’ve been trying to call him on it. But it was here in his van the whole time and he is not here. Do you understand?”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“I’m not sure but I think he might be investigating or something.”
That got his
attention. “Investigating what?”
She told him about the rock and note.
“Damn it, Annie, you should’ve told me about this right away! Does Will think Henry did it?”
“Of course not, but he might have gone back to talk to him. Maybe I should go there.”
“Maybe you should just go straight home. If you’re really worried, I’ll drive out to Henry’s myself.”
“Okay,” she said and ended the call. She got back into the truck, taking the cell phone with her, then—ignoring his advice—gunned the truck toward Henry’s.
There was something different about the place, she thought as soon as she climbed out of the truck. She hesitated in the dark yard. No sign of Will and it looked as though Henry had already gone to bed. Suddenly she froze.
Crackling sounds emanated from the back of the house. She ran along the side, past the kitchen door to the rear. Flames were licking out from a basement window. She stared in disbelief. Something crashed inside, breaking her trance and she dashed to the side door, pushing it open and flying inside.
Smoke was seeping up from the basement and the floor was hot beneath her feet. “Henry!” she screamed. Where did he sleep? Upstairs? Or down, where Ida Mae had spent her last days?
If only she could remember the layout of the house, but she hadn’t been inside it for fifteen years. She ran down the hall leading from the kitchen. The smoke was thicker now and she started coughing, holding a hand over her mouth as she scrunched up her eyes, trying to find the staircase. There.
She moved forward but her foot bumped against something soft. Her eyes were streaming and her chest heaving so rapidly she thought she was going to pass out. She leaned down to feel what was obstructing the way and heard a soft heart-stopping sound. Like a moan.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WILL FELT HIMSELF BEING pulled up. His head was pounding and when he opened his eyes, neon lights swam across his vision. He blinked several times, trying to figure out where he was until he realized the fog was smoke and the pale face hovering over him was Annie. He shot up, only to sag back against what felt like Annie’s knees. How did she get behind him? He thought he heard someone groan. Was it him, or her? Then he heard a voice in his ear, pleading.
“Will, you’ve got to help me. I can’t lift you on my own. Come on! You’ve got to get up. The house is on fire.”
That got the adrenaline pumping. He tried to talk but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He pointed up.
“Henry? He’s upstairs? I’ll get him.” She pushed him forward and rose to her feet.
He grabbed her arm, clutching it as he levered himself off the floor. Stood panting like an old man, catching his breath. His mouth was dry, lips swollen. He passed his tongue tentatively over them and tried to talk again. “No,” he whispered as she began to shake loose. “Me. You. Outside. Call.”
She gave him a look that made him want to laugh. She thinks I’m out of it. He tried once more. This time, filling in the gaps. “Call in the alarm. Now. Go.” He pushed her away, pointing to the front door of the house. She hesitated and he was afraid he’d have to use force to get her out of the house.
“Henry!”
“I’ll get him.”
She spun around and made for the door. The smoke roiled out when she opened it, giving Will a dose of air before he started up the stairs. He prayed Henry was in his bedroom, because he had a rough idea where that was. He didn’t know how much time he had. Maybe not enough to search every room.
The smoke was thicker up there, rising on the waves of heat. He hunched over and crawled, feeling his way along the wall. The second room on the right, or on the left? Think Jennings, think! You’ve done plenty of searches before, stay calm.
His back was killing him but he continued on, hugging the floor.. He strained to see but it was almost impossible in the thick acrid smoke. Passing the first room, he trailed his fingers along the wall. It was already warming up, as was the floor. Not a good sign. How much time did he have? When exactly had the blaze started? He didn’t remember much. Walking into the kitchen and calling out to Henry. Then nothing. Someone—Waters?—must have knocked him out.
What was that? His ears strained against the loud roar of the fire. He crawled faster, following the muffled sound. Second door on the left. That was it. He rose higher and edged through the doorway, trying to find Henry. His eyes stung from the smoke and the tears streaking down his face.
“Henry!” he hollered. “Henry!”
No one on the bed that he could feel. He leaned over it, realizing he was touching the covers. Then he heard what could’ve been a cough. Will edged around the foot of the bed, feeling his way to the other side. There he found Henry, wrapped in a cocoon of sheets. He was barely conscious, but seemed to recognize Will.
Will scooped him up into the firefighter’s carry, wrapped over his shoulder head-first and staggered out of the room. Running now, because the heat had intensified. He heard beams falling below him. God, please don’t let the stairs be cut off. He reached the top and ducked his head down, careful not to smash Henry into the walls. If the man had been any bigger… The memory of trying to drag Gino out from under the beam flashed in his mind.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he tried not to rush. Can’t afford to fall. May not be able to get us both up. Tendrils of flame were licking into the kitchen now. He could feel the heat radiating out from the back of the house. It was slowly collapsing beneath them. The open front door was only feet away, but his lungs were heaving, scorched from the smoke and heat, and burdened by the extra weight he carried.
He kept his eyes on the doorway, trying not to let the horrifying crashes behind distract him. His legs were rubbery and seemed to carry him in slow motion, as if in a nightmare. Running but getting nowhere.
Suddenly part of the floor gave way to his right, the floorboards falling inward, consumed by the flames beneath. Will glanced into the gaping maw of fire and, using all he had left in him, shot through the opened door to fall in a heap onto the grassy lawn. He lay there, fighting for air, cradling Henry’s still form as if he were holding onto a baby.
The cool night air rushed around him. From far away, he thought he heard men shouting and the loud hum of the tanker as water poured into the portatank. He propped himself up on one elbow, pulling the sheets away from Henry to uncover his face and let the air get at him, too. “Henry?” he croaked.
The soot-covered face creased in what might have been a smile or a grimace. Will couldn’t be sure. But the old man’s breathing was shallow and he needed oxygen right away. “Getting help for you. Stay there.” As if Henry was going anywhere.
Will stumbled toward the corner of the house where all the action was taking place. Men were hauling hoses and spraying the house, but once he saw the back of it, Will knew there was no hope. His eyes filtered through the hissing steam and the spewing smoke, finally spotting Andrews’s red helmet.
“Jennings!” Relief broke across the captain’s face. “Thank God. Where’s Henry?”
“Out front, on the lawn. He needs oxygen.”
“I’ll get a tank from the truck. We called an ambulance. It’s on the way from Essex.” He turned to leave but Will grabbed hold of him.
“Where’s Annie?”
Andrews patted his hand. “She’s safe. Sitting in her truck. I hope.”
Relieved, Will ran back to where he’d left Henry and was feeling for a pulse when Andrews came with an oxygen tank and mask.
“Is he breathing?”
“There’s a faint pulse.”
“Put the mask on him, keep him warm if you can. You know the drill. I need to get back.”
“Can you save the house?”
“It doesn’t look good. There must’ve been a lot of junk in the basement.”
“Was it another Molotov?”
“Won’t know till we get down there. Maybe not for a day or two.”
Will attached the oxygen and covered Henry with th
e sheet. Andrews turned to go.
“Cap,” Will said. “Something I need to tell you. Before I came here, I went to the office at Rest Haven. I found gas cans and a couple of those wine bottles. I think—”
“Save it. I called the sheriff as soon as I got here.” He paused, shaking his head. “I couldn’t raise Waters on his cell again. It’s not the first time. I’ve no doubt he’ll come roaring up here any minute with a lot of explanations.”
“I think he’ll be surprised to see me.”
Andrews pursed his lips, sadness washing over his face. “He was a good man…once upon a time.” Then he swung around and headed back to the fire.
Will looked down at Henry’s chest, moving slowly up and down as the pure oxygen filled his lungs. He wanted the old man to live, though he wasn’t certain how grateful Henry would be now that he’d lost everything. Will pulled his sweatshirt over his head and tucked it around Henry. In the distance, he could hear the faint wail of the ambulance.
TWO DAYS. The longest forty-eight hours Annie could recall since, well, since the day she went into labor thirteen summers ago. She hadn’t seen Will since the night of the fire after the ambulance had taken Henry to the hospital in Essex. She’d overheard one of the paramedics congratulate Will, saying another ten or fifteen minutes and… She’d missed the rest, but not the grimness in Will’s face or the dampness in his eyes when he’d turned to find her standing nearby. Then she was in his arms.
Work at the apiary had been put on hold since the fire at Henry’s but it couldn’t wait any longer. She suspected the hives were brimming in all the beeyards and decided to call Danny McLean to see if he could spare a few hours every day.
“Can Danny come or not?” her father asked as she hung up the phone.
“He can come,” she said.
“Is that Will fella going to be helping, too?”
Annie smiled. “Yes, that Will fella is coming later this afternoon. He’s been staying at Henry’s, helping with the investigation and the cleanup. And at the hospital visiting Henry whenever he can.”
The Beekeeper's Daughter (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 20
