“Pull over,” Olivia said. “And give me my phone.”
Teri cackled. “Regrets? So soon?”
Olivia’s stomach spun. She had one last card to play. “Pull over. I’m going to puke.”
Teri jerked the wheel and pulled onto the dirt shoulder.
Olivia grabbed her purse, threw the door open and made a run for it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
OLIVIA WAS GONE.
Mandy felt as cracked and broken as the eggs she’d hurled at her this week.
She’d driven to Cloverdale for the mail and then back at speeding-ticket speed, hoping to find Olivia at home. She wasn’t. She’d wandered through the house unable to stop replaying the hurt on Olivia’s face when she’d realized Mandy had lied to her.
She’d stood in Olivia’s room, looking at the things she left behind. Gym shoes. Her sweatshirt. Would she have a warm place to sleep at night?
Her breath stuck in her throat.
She should have paid Teri off again. She should have protected her baby sister, insisting she stay even if she was eighteen. She should have...
It was too late to change anything.
Mandy sought refuge in the master bedroom. She looked out the window, but Ben wasn’t in his backyard. He’d become her rock without her realizing it. She hoped he did the right thing with Hannah, not just for Hannah’s sake, but because their relationship might grow if he did. She opened her grandmother’s scarf drawer. Those poor scarves hadn’t been taken out and admired in years. Grandma had a scarf for every season and holiday. Mandy shook each one out and laid them on the bed like a patchwork quilt.
At the bottom of the drawer was a thick manila envelope. She took out the contents and began reading. She sank onto the bed. Thirty minutes later, she locked up the house to deliver the mail, replaying more than the events of the past twenty-four hours. Grandpa’s last wishes weren’t his official last wishes.
Utley blocked her path on the sidewalk. His shirt today was sky blue and decorated with brown surfboards. “I’ve been looking for you. This time of day, you should be southwest of the town square.”
“Is Dave paying you to keep tabs on me?” She wouldn’t put it past her autocratic supervisor.
“I don’t know who Dave is. All I know is—”
“I’ll make up time in the next half hour.” Based on the amount of mail she had in her bag, she’d be fine. What she didn’t have time for was Utley’s censure.
Utley didn’t budge his Birkenstocks from the sidewalk. She had to take to the street to get around him.
“If I were postmaster,” Utley called after her, “the station would never have been closed down.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Mandy mumbled, thinking of Ben.
She’d perfected the fast walk through years of delivering mail. The day was hot and muggy, clouds gathering as if promising rain. Mandy wasn’t fooled. It rarely rained this time of year. She made good time for several houses and quickly worked up a sweat. She’d be back on schedule soon.
About the fourth house from the corner, she ran into trouble. She’d just power walked to the metal mailbox hanging near the door of a pretty blue Craftsman house when a spindly voice from inside called out, “Who’s there?”
Not now. Not today.
Hannah rode her pink bike past, as if Granny Vanessa was hot on her tail.
“Hannah?” For a moment, Mandy was torn between the elderly woman inside the house and the little girl with messy pigtails flying. “Hannah? Did you leave a note?”
“Hello?” the spindly voice called again. “Is anyone there?”
She couldn’t take the chance that the woman inside was in trouble. “It’s Mandy. Your mail carrier. Do you need help?”
“Can you bring me my mail?”
“Of course.” Mandy retrieved the mail she’d just dropped, watching Hannah stop at the corner house and peer into the bushes before riding off.
No one lived in the house. The windows were boarded up and a truck sat in the driveway with cobwebs in the wheel wells. She hoped Hannah didn’t poke around there often.
Mandy glanced at the name on the mail and stepped inside. “Hello, Viola. Here’s your mail.”
An elderly woman with bright red pin curls sat on a blue velvet couch. Her walker was out of reach on the other side of a TV tray. “Thank you. Can you get me a glass of water?”
Mandy put the mail on the tray and hurried into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of water.
“And some crackers,” Viola said. “They’re in the cupboard to the right of the refrigerator.”
Mandy hurried to oblige.
“And my knitting. It’s in a bag in the corner.”
“Viola, I’ve got to be going.” Utley was probably waiting on the sidewalk, and he’d be right to nag this time.
Viola stared at her with glazed, dilated brown eyes. “No one comes to see me anymore.”
“I tell you what.” Mandy backed to the door. “I’ll come by tomorrow.” And she’d ask Agnes to look in on her, too.
“Oh, how sweet.” Viola’s brow clouded. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”
“I deliver your mail.” Mandy closed the screen firmly before turning around, expecting to see Utley, but the street was empty.
Something popped at the corner house. Smoke rose from the old truck in the driveway. And then there was flame.
Mandy ran across the road and dialed 911.
* * *
THERE WAS NOTHING like the adrenaline rush of a rig running with lights and sirens, especially after the debacle with John and Hannah.
Ben had tried calling Hannah on the radio after John left, but she hadn’t answered. And then the call had come in about the fire.
Ben maneuvered the rig around a tight corner. It was a vehicle fire, all right. The truck was fully ablaze, and a crowd had gathered across the street, including Mandy.
“Let’s give it a cocktail mix,” Dad said, indicating he wanted to add chemical suppressant to the water.
“I’m taking that plug.” Ben pointed to the fire hydrant in front of the house. He put the engine in Park, leaving the lights flashing. Heat from the fire reached him as soon as his boots hit the ground. He grabbed a connector hose and a wrench and ran to the fireplug.
“I called it in.” Mandy appeared at his side, still carrying her mailbag. “What do you need me to do?”
Mental note: train volunteers on how to draw water from fire hydrants.
“Put on the turnout gear from the rear seat. Put on everything, including the SCBA. I repeat. Everything, including the mask.” Vehicle fires were toxic. “Ask the chief if you have any questions.” In short order, Ben removed the valve and attached the hose to the hydrant, glancing back to make sure Dad had the other end hooked up to the truck.
Dad gave him a thumbs-up.
Mandy was adjusting her gloves. Her face was pale behind the mask. First fires did that to a person. Although it wasn’t exactly her first fire. He loved that she faced challenges head-on. He loved that she was on a scene with him. The fact that he was using the L-word in the midst of a call should have been alarming. Instead, in the midst of the chaos, he felt at peace.
Nate and Joe joined them, opening the back of the cab for their turnout gear.
“We don’t carry enough water in the pumper truck to put out big fires,” Dad was saying to Mandy. All SCBA made the wearer’s breath sound like a scuba diver on a fast walk. But it also distorted voices. Dad’s deep voice sounded a bit like the air-labored supervillain Darth Vader. “And the water from the hydrant doesn’t have enough pressure to fight a fire. So we suck it into our tank where it’s pressurized and primed.”
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Stand back from the hoses,
listen and watch,” Dad said. “Best way to learn.”
Ben strapped the oxygen tank to his back, put on his SCBA and checked the air pressure. He unwound the hose and positioned himself on the lawn, waiting until the sheriff and Joe had their masks on. “Joe, steady the hose behind me. Dad, give me the juice.”
Foamy water designed to saturate and suppress chemical flames shot from the hose with an intensity that would’ve challenged Ben’s balance if he hadn’t been ready for it.
The fire went down easy. Water and toxic residue were on the lawn and driveway, trickling down to the gutter. Ben signaled for the water to be cut, but he stayed on the lawn on watch in case the fire decided a resurrection was in order.
Several minutes later, Dad called it and they commenced cleanup. Ben and Joe were sprayed down with clean water by the fire chief so nothing toxic clung to their gear. The rest of the crew had been a safe distance back.
Mandy removed her mask and voiced what had been on Ben’s mind the entire time. “How on earth did this junker catch fire?”
Ben exchanged a glance with his father. “Did you see anyone around before the fire began?”
She shook her head. “Hannah rode past and Utley rode me about being behind schedule, which is a daily occurrence for him. And then I went into Viola’s house and when I came out—”
“Poof,” Ben said.
“Cars don’t just spontaneously combust.” Joe’s mask hung tight on his chin. The mechanic had the right gung-ho attitude but needed more instruction.
Ben loosened Joe’s mask straps.
“It can be as simple as lighting a bag of potato chips on fire and leaving it on the seat.” Dad was only slightly wheezy, but he sat on the engine’s bumper, looking pale from exertion. “Or if someone put a firecracker down the gas tank, it would’ve exploded.”
“I heard a pop.” Mandy put her mask and helmet in the backseat of the fire truck and began removing her turnout gear.
A car backfired.
Ben’s head came up. His gaze found a car at the end of the street. A gray car headed to the next corner. He pointed. “Whose car is that?”
“Utley’s.” Joe shook his head. “I keep telling him to bring it in for a tune-up.”
“Utley.” Ben turned to Mandy. “He hangs around the post office, drives a gray car and has a tin of matches he said he didn’t want to let go to waste.”
“You can’t mean...” Mandy looked from the burned-out car to the empty street corner. “He’s an old man.”
“Yeah,” Joe seconded.
“Arson doesn’t discriminate based on age,” Dad said. “Wouldn’t you agree, Sheriff?”
Nate nodded.
“He was my grandfather’s friend.” Mandy’s hand crept to her throat.
“You told me he was supposed to have been postmaster someday. You said he’s been on your case about post office management. He sounds frustrated.” Ben looked to Nate. “Plausible?”
The sheriff nodded, a man of few words.
“He’s a gangly old guy.” Dad got to his feet. “He could have cut that wire in the post office.”
“I’ll bring him in for questioning.” Nate shed his turnout gear.
“Smoke,” Agnes shouted from across the street.
Ben had forgotten they had an audience.
The group of firefighters turned back to the vehicle.
“Not there.” Agnes pointed to the sky. “Look over the rooftops.”
Black smoke billowed above the houses.
* * *
“HANNAH!” OLIVIA BARELY had enough air to call to the little girl. After escaping Teri, she’d run to the river without looking back. She’d followed it for what seemed like forever until she’d spotted Hannah standing in the field behind the post office. The one with knee-high grass and an old spooky house. “What are you doing in this field alone?”
She was so very, very glad to find anyone she knew. Olivia did a slow turn, looking in all directions. No sign of Teri. She’d escaped. She’d escaped with her purse and wallet but no money and no cell phone.
“I’m looking for Iggy.” Hannah stood still, poking the grass with a stick as if trying to flush something out. She wore her pink shoe bag over a pink T-shirt.
Olivia was going to have to tell Vanessa enough pink already. “Is Iggy a raccoon like Riley? Or a mouse?”
“Iggy eats mice.”
Olivia did a little high-stepping dance and almost dropped her purse. “Get out of this field right now.”
“Why?”
“Well, duh.” Olivia couldn’t stop moving. “Iggy is a snake.”
“So?” Hannah pushed her nerd glasses up her nose.
“So? Snakes bite.” Olivia grabbed Hannah’s little arm and shook it. “Come on.” But her foot landed in a gopher hole and she fell. On the ground. Where there were snakes!
“Stop screaming,” Hannah said in that put-out voice of hers.
Olivia scrambled to her feet, sniffing and tasting fear in her mouth.
“Your nose is bleeding,” Hannah said.
Fear spread through Olivia, leaving her weak-kneed. She wiped her nose. Sure enough, her hand came away streaked with blood. “I need a doctor.” And Mandy. She pinched her nose.
“You need to sit down.” Hannah took possession of Olivia’s free hand and led her to a large granite rock. It was gray with black speckles and as large as the Grumpster’s chair in their living room. “Sit here.” Hannah dug in her pink bag.
“Do you have a phone?” Olivia said in a nasally voice. “I need to call Mandy.” Her voice sounded younger than Hannah’s. But there’d be doctors and tests and pokes. And underlying it all would be the fear: cancer was back.
“She can’t come get you.” Hannah handed Olivia a clean tissue. It was folded and flat, as if it’d been smashed in there a long time. “She’s working. I saw her delivering mail.” For once, there was a glint of interest in the girl’s eyes. “Why do you need her? Where’re your mom and dad?”
“My mom is...gone.” Good riddance. “And I’ve never met my dad. All I have is Mandy.”
“My mom is gone, too. To heaven,” Hannah whispered, staring at the ground. She sat on the rock close to Olivia and snuggled closer. She was a hot and sweaty kid, but she was an improvement over Teri.
Still, Olivia hoped the next words out of Hannah’s mouth weren’t going to be that her mom had died of cancer.
“All I have is Ben,” Hannah continued to whisper. “And Granny Vanessa and Grandpa Keith and Great-Grandpa Felix. And my grandparents in Sacramento.”
“That’s a lot of people.” More than Olivia had.
“But none of them are my mom.”
That was a sentiment Olivia understood.
The sun beat down on them, but it wasn’t so hot that the birds and the frogs were silent.
Something moved in the grass nearby. “We’re safe here,” Olivia said, more for herself than Hannah. Hannah was something of a pro when it came to animals.
Hannah hadn’t moved on from the last part of the conversation. “Moms kiss it and make it better,” she said.
“That’s what Mandy does for me.” But no matter how fiercely Mandy hugged Olivia, she couldn’t guarantee cancer was gone forever. Olivia pinched her nose harder. “I hope I’m not dying.”
“You don’t look sick.” Hannah giggled. “And your sister said you weren’t dying. She said it was just hot and dry here.”
Olivia liked that idea a lot better than thinking the cancer was back.
Hannah gazed up at her. “Do you try to be good for Mandy?”
“Not all the time.” She was an irresponsible, selfish princess. She had no idea why Mandy had put up with her for so long.
“Mandy must love you a lot.”
&n
bsp; Olivia bit her lip and looked at the tree line. Would she still love her a lot when she showed up at home? “Ben must love you a lot, too.”
Hannah shrugged and returned her attention to the ground. “I try to be good for him, but he keeps saying I have to go back to my dad, no matter how much I want to stay with Ben.”
“Ben doesn’t want you?” That couldn’t be. Hannah was a good kid. Sure, she was a pain in the butt, but if Ben didn’t want her, what did that say about Mandy wanting Olivia?
“Ben introduced me to my dad today.” Hannah’s voice was supersmall. “I thought Ben was going to send me away. Right then.” Hannah slid off the rock. “There you are, Iggy.” She picked up a gray snake with a kink in its tail. She hadn’t been staring morosely at the ground. She’d been looking for the snake!
Okay, it was a baby snake. And it was kind of cool the way the snake wrapped around Hannah’s arm, but creepy, too.
Olivia released her nose and drew her feet up. “Are you running away?”
Hannah blinked up at Olivia as if the idea had never occurred to her. “Should I?”
* * *
“YOU’RE JUMPING TO conclusions about Utley.” Mandy wasn’t one to get carsick, but the thought of Utley being a felon combined with the lumbering motion of the fire truck was making her green.
“We’re not starting a witch hunt.” Ben cut a corner a little too tight. One of the tires bounced up the curb. “He’ll get questioned...or caught in the act of starting a fire.”
“You should train me to drive,” Joe said from the seat across from Mandy.
“Vanessa, don’t worry.” Keith was on the phone with his wife. “Hannah will turn up. She always does.” He hung up. “I hope that girl turns up soon.”
Olivia. Mandy’s stomach lurched.
“There it is.” Ben took the next turn slower.
The fire came into view. Dry grass that had once been a front lawn was burning.
“That house is empty.” Mandy leaned forward, trying to be sure. Yep. “No mail.”
“Wear your masks.” Ben parked in front of the fire. “No telling what he started it with.”
Love, Special Delivery Page 22
