Pearl Valley

by Felicia Rogers

  Within seconds, the pellets turned into a solid sheet. The rain poured so thick she could only make out the outline of her truck.

  Entering the dark house, she flicked the light switch but nothing happened. From the foyer coat closet, she drew out a flashlight. Dim light filtered through the humid air, and she shook the flashlight in hopes the batteries would get a better connection.

  Hoping that a breaker had blown instead of a town power outage, Janie directed the light beam to the basement stairs. The door stood ajar, and Janie frowned.

  Backing up a few steps, she took the phone from the wall. The cord tangled, and she fought it like a cat with a ball of yarn. Placing the receiver to her ear, she wasn’t surprised by the dead silence.

  She reached in her pocket for her cell phone, but it wasn’t there. Her purse lay on a small ancient half-table, right beside the doorway. Walking backward, with her eyes glued to the basement door, she picked up the purse and pilfered through the contents. When she didn’t feel the cell phone, she flashed her dimming flashlight into the interior of her purse. A groan left her throat when she realized it must have dropped out in the truck.

  A glance outside revealed that the rain was far from slackening. Hearty pings crashed against the metal roof as a volley of hail descended. Her heart beat against her chest in a matching rhythm.

  Trying not to freak out, she felt her way to the kitchen. The battery drawer was close to the back door. From across the room, she noticed the bolt was snapped in place and heaved a sigh of relief.

  Her pulse calmed as she realized both doors had been locked on her arrival. Maybe she had opened the basement door and forgotten, or maybe Trevor had opened the door and peeked downstairs. Whatever the case, she was clearly overreacting.

  Digging through the junk drawer, she found a new set of batteries and placed them in the flashlight. Lightning flashed, and she backed up toward the island. The position gave her a clear view of the neighbor’s house. Through the volley of hail, Janie could just make out the family sitting down to dinner. The chandelier above the table lit brilliantly against the darkening outside.

  Hairs prickled on her arms. She gulped back her fear and stepped backward. She waved the flashlight erratically. Quickly glancing over her shoulder, she saw the entire street. Houses and streetlights winked on.

  She flicked the switch in the kitchen, but nothing changed. She had two choices: go back to her truck or go to the basement and check the breaker. The hail behind her didn’t lend to the first choice, but the darkness in front of her didn’t lend toward the second choice either.

  She contemplated for only another moment before she pulled back her shoulders and decided to be brave. Slowly, like a cat on the prowl, she stalked to the basement door. She leaned her head to the opening and listened. No sounds drifted upward.

  With fresh batteries, the flashlight shone brightly. She angled it down the stairs and sighed with relief to see them empty.

  Walking sideways, one step at a time, Janie descended. Normally the furnace’s rattle comforted her, but not now. Now everything was eerily silent.

  Before she reached the bottom, she flashed the light over the banister. Nothing lay before her so she continued. Five feet from the bottom step, attached to the concrete wall was the breaker box. Her head bobbing like a bobble-head doll, she scooted across the uneven floor. The door creaked open like fingernails on a chalkboard, and Janie cringed.

  Flashing the light at the switches, Janie narrowed her eyes. They all appeared to be in the correct place. Even the main switch hadn’t been flipped. Determined to do something after all the worry, she flipped the main off and on and then waited for the whir of the furnace, but nothing happened.

  Muttering under her breath, she said, “Must just be this old house. The storm has you all messed up.”

  Her shaky voice in the dark, empty room echoed around her. She needed to get out of here.

  Making her way back to the stairs, she saw something on the floor. She took a step closer. Did it move?

  Placing her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, she rapidly stepped backward. In her haste, she tripped. The shadow moved…

  ****

  Disappointed, Trevor left the sheriff’s office. A storm rolled overhead, and the sky darkened. From a distance he could see heavy rain descending on Pearl Valley.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed Janie’s house, receiving a busy signal. Deciding the storm must have knocked out the phone service, he called her cell but reached voice mail.

  Cell phone in hand, Trevor called Rory and updated him on the progress.

  “You’re sure the doc is involved?”

  “As sure as I can be. Of course, I don’t have pictures of him lighting the fires, but he was around during all the right times.”

  “I’m sure lots of people are in the town now who were there ten years ago.”

  “True, but those people aren’t living a fake life.”

  “Good point. So what are you going to do now that the sheriff didn’t believe you?”

  “Not sure. I think I’ll talk to Janie. Maybe she can convince her father.”

  “Maybe,” said Rory.

  Trevor entered Pearl Valley, and sheets of rain rocketed against his truck. “I’m going to have to let you go. I just entered the rain storm of the century.” Rory clicked off, and Trevor placed the phone in the passenger seat.

  Navigating in the storm was a nightmare. The white and yellow lines on the road blurred, and he couldn’t see if he was on the road or off. Next was the hail. Trevor cringed with each ping. The outside of the truck would be destroyed when this was over.

  He headed straight for the church. When he didn’t see Janie’s vehicle, he turned around and drove toward her house. The roads were clear, but the trip was slow-going. Visibility was down to nothing, and he struggled to find her house in the onslaught.

  He pulled in behind her truck. The lights inside were off. He looked up and down the street and saw that hers was the only house that remained dark.

  Baseball-sized hail dented his hood, and he cringed at the thought of getting out. His heart hammered against his chest. Something wasn’t right. This was the same way he had felt the day he’d lost his leg. The hairs on his neck had prickled, and his palms had sweated.

  He grabbed an umbrella and opened his door. The thin nylon was little help against the assault. Hail struck, stinging the back of his leg. The metal wires of the umbrella bounced against the top of his cowboy hat as he made his way to the porch.

  Reaching the front door, he was surprised to find it unlocked. Walking inside, he bumped into the hall table. Surface items rolled and crashed onto the floor, and he swore under his breath. Way to make a stealthy entrance.

  He tried light switches as he walked through the hall, but nothing worked. The phone lay off the hook. He listened for a busy signal, but nothing came across the line.

  Next he made his way to the kitchen. A drawer beside the back door was open. Batteries littered the countertop. Making his way to the door, he saw that it was bolted shut.

  Muffled sounds reached his ears, and he followed the noise. Behind the staircase that led upstairs was an open door. Pulling a pen light from his pocket, he directed the beam down a set of rickety stairs.

  Suddenly the noises he had heard moments before stopped. His own breathing filled his ears, and he struggled to hear past it. Taking deep, calming breaths, he pressed his back against the wall outside the door and waited.

  Hushed whispers raced to his position. Straining to hear, he made out voices but not what they said. He felt lightheaded.

  He needed to get away from the basement door. In the kitchen, he lifted a window and breathed. The clean air of the storm cleared his head. He needed to call for help. Reaching around to his back pocket, he groaned. His cell phone was in the truck!

  The storm still raged. The hail had calmed, but now it was followed by strong winds. Rain struck the house sideways.

  M
aking a decision, Trevor headed onto the porch and picked up his umbrella.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Janie bit the inside of her cheek as Doc moved out of the shadows. He flicked the lid of his lighter open and closed. Hands shaking, she dropped the flashlight, and now it shone at his legs.

  Gulping, she said, “Maybe you shouldn’t play with that lighter in here.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t tell me what to do.”

  Janie backed away toward what she hoped were the steps. Why had she dropped the heavy metal flashlight?

  He laughed hysterically. “What do we have here? Are you afraid of fire?”

  “Doc, this is not funny.”

  “Don’t call me that!” he screamed, and Janie took another step. If she could just—

  “Don’t try to run away.” She stopped. “That’s better. Now we have some things we need to discuss.”

  “Sure. Why don’t we just head upstairs, and I can make us a pot of coffee.”

  He shook his head and then sniffed. “Ah, do you smell that?”

  She shook her head.

  “No. I didn’t think you did. Methane is colorless, odorless, and highly flammable, as well as available in most stores. Don’t worry, the tank is upstairs. I don’t want it to reach us too quickly.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He shrugged. “Seemed like something to do.”

  She widened her gaze.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” he said, almost in a whimpering voice.

  To stall for time she said, “Why don’t you try me and see?”

  “If you insist, but while I talk, I need you to take a seat.” He picked up her flashlight and shined it into the corner. She didn’t move, and he said, “Don’t be shy.” He held a chair out for her. Hesitantly she sat, and he wound ropes around her arms and legs while he spoke.

  “Simply put, I came to town to work at the oyster farm. Everyone worked there then. I was fresh out of college, and it was a way to get my feet wet in my field.

  “While I was there, I met the most wonderful woman. She worked in the office and always had a smile for everyone. Ah, I can still remember the way she looked at me. Of course she was older and more mature, but that didn’t affect how she felt about me.”

  The ropes tightened around her arms. She attempted to puff out her chest as he tied them in place, but it took him too long, and she released her breath and he pulled them even tighter.

  “I knew your mother loved me. She was just afraid to show it. Married, with a child almost as old as me, she was embarrassed. I thought if I proposed, it would help her. But she told me she was honored by my attention, but that it would have to be a no.”

  Now that Janie was bound, he paced, the flashlight flickering about the room. “I left town for a while after that. I met this friend who showed me the pleasures of burning things, and when I got good at it, I knew who I wanted to share it with the most.”

  Tears welled in her eyes as realization hit.

  “I didn’t mean to kill her. I was just going to show her what I’d learned, but she ran inside the house. I went after her, but she fell and hit her head. I laid her out on the bed and left.

  “Years later, I saw people heckling you on the news. Stupid tourists, thinking they could just blow into town and insult you and your gloves.” He took a breath. “While I worked at the oyster farm, I discovered the secret of where the water came in. Believe it or that crazy engineer, William Rogers, created a valve to adjust the water levels. I just shut it off completely. That way the tourists would have no reason to come, and they wouldn’t bother you anymore.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. His speech sped up. “Of course this caused the river to flood, which caused your cousin to drown. Then I saved him, and the people honored me by making me the doctor. Everything was going great until Jamie saw an old news article about me. He was so much like you. He confronted me right away. I just smiled and acted like he had the wrong person. But he knew the truth, and he wasn’t giving up. Somehow he figured out my connection to the fires, and he was going to the authorities—“

  “You killed him!”

  “Technically, I ran him off the road. The accident killed him.”

  “You’re a monster!”

  “Perhaps. But have you noticed no one has bothered you or made fun of you since I’ve been around?”

  Tears spilled over onto her cheeks.

  “Don’t blame yourself. Blame that cowboy for the recent violent attacks. If he would have just left you alone, then nobody would have gotten hurt.”

  Doc shook his head as he poured liquid around her chair. “I’m pouring a little extra so the fire will consume you quicker. I don’t want you to suffer.” He backed to the stairs and held the lighter in his hand. “If only you could have loved me.”

  ****

  Trevor returned from his truck.

  Wind whistled and shook the window panes. Something slapping the side of house drew his attention, and he noted that the back door flapped in the wind. Entering the kitchen, he pulled the door closed. A new smell assaulted his senses, and fear consumed him.

  Red whirling lights followed by the blare of sirens filled the street. Instead of waiting, Trevor searched the top floor. A wisp of smoke drifted from the basement. His heart hammered against his chest.

  He sat on the top basement step and scooted. The smoke rolled over his head, and flames licked the floor. He could just make out a chair. Looking over the banister, he saw Janie. She was tied to the chair and bouncing around like a mad woman, trying to back away from a circle of fire.

  Trevor stood on the floor and tried to get close to her, but the heat was too hot. Tears streamed from her pleading eyes. A gag was shoved in her mouth. She angled her neck as if trying to get him to turn around.

  He spun on his heel, lifting his fists in preparation to take on an assailant. However, no one was behind him. Instead he saw a fire extinguisher. Pulling it from the wall, he saw feet descending.

  “Scoot aside,” said a firefighter.

  They wouldn’t allow him to stay. They ushered him back up the stairs. He waited in the living room, wringing his hands.

  The paramedics wanted to check him outside in the ambulance, but he refused. The firefighters ordered him to get out of the house in case the fire grew out of control and the floor collapsed, but again he refused. If Janie was going down with the house, so was he.

  Feet beating a hasty retreat had him turning his head. Janie, bound and gagged, with the chair still attached, was being carried between two firemen. They screamed, “Get out! It’s going to blow.”

  Trevor rushed to follow. The prosthesis hampered his progress, and he stumbled. A blast of hot air hit him in the back and propelled him forward. The last sound he remembered was Janie’s scream.

  Chapter Thirty

  “And you’re sure?”

  “Yes, sheriff, I’m sure,” said Janie for the thousandth time. How many times did she have to explain what had happened? How many times did they expect her to tell them that the doc left her to die in a fire in her basement? How many times did they have to be told that the doc was not a good man?

  “I just don’t get it. He had such a good life.” The sheriff pocketed his pad of paper and shook his head as he walked into the hallway.

  Janie settled in the plastic hospital chair and opened the paper. The front page article read: Doc Giles Robinson was apprehended by the police when his car broke down in his attempt to leave Pearl Valley. The article continued, explaining that a young officer by the name of Nate became suspicious after he’d heard a radio call for a fire truck at the home of Miss Jane Dossett. The officer was quoted as saying, “My gut told me something was up.”

  The reporter finished with the information that Giles Robinson was being held without bond in the county jail.

  Janie folded the newspaper and put it back on the waiting room table. Visiting hours were slated to begin, and she didn’t want to miss a mom
ent.

  A nurse in a stark white uniform opened the door. “One visitor may enter for each room.”

  Janie moved toward the door, trying not to elbow anyone else going in to see a loved one. Inside the ICU she walked to Trevor’s room. Fear entered her heart.

  “Nurse? Nurse?”

  “Yes, Miss Dossett?”

  “Why is this room empty?”

  “I’m sorry—”

  Janie clutched her heart. She couldn’t breathe. What was she going to do now? In just two weeks she had fallen in love with Trevor Jacobs, and now he was gone. She’d let fear rule her life, and now she was destined to be alone for eternity.

  “—we had to move him.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, he woke up and pitched a fit, so we moved him to another room. I’m sorry that no one told you, and you had to wait.”

  Janie thanked the nurse and ran from the room. On the third floor, she stopped at the nurses’ station.

  “He’s in room three oh five.”

  “Thank you!” said Janie as she ran past and skidded to a halt in front of his door. She patted her hair, tugged down her blouse, and entered.

  Trevor was propped up on a bunch of pillows. A strange man hovered over him.

  “Leave me be, Rory. I’m fine.”

  Rory saw her and flashed a smile. In a British accent he said, “Looks as if you have company.”

  Trevor faced her, and her limbs weakened. He held out his hand, and she walked forward and grasped it.

  “Let me guess. This is Jane Dossett?” asked Rory.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “I’m Rory Chance. It is nice to meet you.”

  She used her free hand to shake Rory’s hand.

  “Rory, get out,” said Trevor, his voice deep.

  “Trevor, old chum, that is no way to talk to a friend,” said Rory with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  “You’ve brought me what I asked for, now I want you to get out.”