Chapter 1
It started with the smell of smoke.
I was getting in my car when I first noticed it—the unmistakable scent of burning wood. It was strong enough to cause me to pause and look around, my breath transforming into puffs of white steam in the sharp, wintery air.
Could it be from someone’s fireplace? It seemed too excessive for that, especially since I didn’t see any smoke coming from any of the nearby chimneys. But what other explanation was there? No one would be having a bonfire; Wisconsin in late January was way too cold. Not to mention the piles and piles of dirty snow and pockets of ice as far as the eye could see. Who the heck would want to be outside in all of that?
Although … on second thought, this area of Redemption was considered strange by the townspeople. While technically, it was still within the town’s limits (albeit barely), in reality, it was more like another world. Redemption was too small to have suburbs, but if it wasn’t, I suspected this area would have been it. In so many ways, it felt completely different from Redemption proper, and it didn’t help that many of its residents rarely, if ever, came into town. And vice versa.
Despite that, I did have one tea client who lived here. Hattie, an elderly woman, was basically housebound. She never really went outside anymore, especially this time of year. The cold made her ar- thritis flare up even more than usual. She swore my tea was the only thing that helped her manage her pain and insomnia, and I was more than happy to do a monthly drop-off of her order, which was why I was in the neighborhood this cold, gray afternoon.
I supposed it was possible someone, somewhere was having a bonfire, as unlikely as it seemed. Either way, I figured it didn’t war- rant my concern. Even if there was a little niggle at the back of my head indicating something was wrong.
Before I could think about it too much, I flipped the turn signal on the left and started toward the fire. It might be nothing … but it also might be something. Someone’s house could be burning down, and they might need all the help they could get.
The street I was on was considered the “business” section of the strange little community. I passed a gas station with an oversized convenience store, which was where most of the residents shopped for the majority of their staples (despite being less than ten minutes away from a huge grocery store that I was sure would have a much bigger selection and probably better prices). There was also a local drugstore, a diner, and a couple of bars, at least one of which served food. Even though it was the middle of the day, the entire block seemed completely deserted—no one else was on the road, and I saw only a couple of cars parked near the businesses. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought I was driving through a ghost town.
The smoke grew thicker and thicker as I drove, and the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach intensified. I was at least a couple of blocks away from the origin, but I was even more sure it was a house fire. I was just starting to see the orange-red flames licking the bottom of the smoke when I knew for sure it was going to be bad. I could feel it.
And where was everyone? As far as I could tell, no one was around. Nor could I hear the sound of sirens, even from afar. Did that mean no one had called the fire department yet? Finding a phone was also a priority.
In a small alley to my right, which was lined with warehous- es and machine shops, thick, black smoke billowed. It had to be the source of the fire, and it looked bad. I turned into the alley and quickly sped up.
That’s when I realized it wasn’t exactly an alley, but more of a short, dead-end road. At the end of it, tucked behind a huge parking lot, was a large wooden structure … being consumed by flames.
I slammed on my brakes, fishtailing on the gravel road before parking where the road ran out and turned into a dirty-looking field peppered with a few sad trees. I jumped out of the car and ran to- ward the structure. The fire was so massive, I couldn’t really tell what it originally was anymore. I was sure it had to be some sort of busi- ness establishment, though. I could still make out the remains of a large sign on the wooden, wraparound porch. Squinting, I could just barely make out the letters … something like 88 Spir, whatever that meant.
The heat was intense on my face, and the smoke seemed to coat the inside of my nose and throat. I coughed and put my hand out to try to shield my face, like that would do anything, as I peered around for anyone who might be trapped or in need of help. The sound of crackling wood and the whooshing of the flames was so loud, I wasn’t sure I would even be able to hear someone over it.
I started to circle around to the back of the building, keeping my mouth and nose covered with my gloved hand, which did nothing for my coughing.
“Help!”
The sound was so feeble that for a moment, I thought I’d imag- ined it, but then, I saw it. A distorted face pressed against the glass of a small, dirty window that had been shoved open. A pale hand was pounding on the glass.
I ran as fast as I could in my winter boots, skittering on the snow-packed cement. “What can I do? Are you trapped? Do you need me to help you out the window?”
A wild eye focused on me. The surrounding face was smeared with soot, but it was clearly female. “Not the window. I’ll never fit.”
Never fit? While it was true I couldn’t see her entire body, what I could see looked petite and delicate. “Are you trapped? I can come get you.”
“No!” Her voice was nearly a scream. “Don’t come in! The ceiling is going to cave. Just get the back door open.” She started pointing furiously to my left.
“No problem,” I yelled and started running alongside the build- ing, searching for the door and praying it wouldn’t be covered in flames.
Luckily, it wasn’t, but I could immediately see why it wouldn’t open. There was a large piece of wood wedged under the doorknob. I kicked it aside and wrenched open the door.
Hot air and smoke poured out, and I covered my face with my arm, trying not to cough too much as I leaned inside to find the girl. She was already making her way toward me, waddling awkwardly between chairs and tables. I could immediately see why she said she would never fit through the window. Her large breasts and massive stomach would definitely be impediments. I also couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t dressed for the time of year. Rather than wearing a sweatshirt or sweater, she wore what seemed to be a thin smock with sleeves that were shoved up above her elbows. She must have removed some items of clothing at some point during the fire, but I wished she hadn’t. She was in for a shock once she stepped outside.
She stumbled as she neared the door, and I quickly jumped in to steady her. The heat was like a furnace. Beads of sweat dotted my forehead, and I quickly realized I had been too hasty in my judgment of her lack of clothing. Regardless, from what I could see, the rest of the building was an inferno. If this girl hadn’t been so close to the window, there was no way I would have been able to find her.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her out into the cold, gray air. She was coughing so hard, she was practically doubled over, and I put an arm around her as I helped her away from the building.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
She was still coughing but managed to shake her head, although that didn’t really reassure me.
“We should get you checked out,” I said, leading her to my car. Where was the fire department? I was just about to drive her to the hospital myself when she stopped me.
She reared back so suddenly that my arm wrenched backward, too, and she stared at me intensely. “No … no doctor …” she gasped. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, leaving wet trails in the soot covering her face. I noticed two things then: one, she was much younger than I’d thought, and prettier.
And second, she wasn’t overweight. She was pregnant.
“Oh no,” I said firmly. “You and the baby absolutely need to be checked out.”
She shook her head frantically, trying unsuccessfully to stop her- self from coughing. “No! No … doctor. I’m … I’m … fine. It’s … Arth … Arth …”
“Arth?” I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to say.
She shook her head again, this time more out of frustration. “Ar- thur. He … he’s still … he’s still …” she gestured with her head to- ward the burning building.
My eyes went wide. “Wait, you’re saying someone is still inside?”
She nodded, her eyes wet with tears as she stared at me. “But … you can’t … the ceiling …” she started coughing again. Her entire body started shaking, although whether from cold or adrenaline, I wasn’t sure.
“Okay, first things first,” I said, taking off my very nice, and very warm, winter coat and wrapping it around the girl. Immediately, I felt the wind slice through my clothes. I may as well have been na- ked, as the turtleneck, sweater, and jeans did nothing to ward off the cold. I knew I had a hooded sweatshirt in the car, which wouldn’t be as nice as my winter coat, but at least then, the cold wouldn’t kill me when I came back to look for Arthur. Although, based on what I was seeing, I wasn’t holding a lot of hope for finding him if he was still in the middle of the blaze. “I’m taking you to my car, and then I’ll come back for Arthur.”
Her eyes were wild. “No … no, you can’t … the ceiling …”
“Let me worry about the ceiling,” I said grimly. “Now, let’s get you back to my car.”
She looked like she wanted to protest more, but I could also tell she wasn’t in any condition to. As I led her around the building, I glanced back at the door, my heart sinking into my stomach. I couldn’t imagine Arthur had survived, but maybe he had managed to get out and was somewhere close by, possibly hurt or unable to breathe. I had to at least look for him, even if I knew there was no way I could get back into the building myself. Maybe the firefight- ers would finally appear by then, and one of them could attempt a rescue.
But as much as I wanted to help Arthur, whoever he was, my biggest concern was the pregnant girl I was half-carrying, half-drag- ging to my car. I didn’t understand why she was so adamant about not seeing a doctor; hopefully, it was just a reaction to the stress and insanity of what she had just experienced. The bottom line was that she absolutely needed to be checked out. I couldn’t imagine breath- ing in all that smoke was good for her or the baby.
“I’m Charlie,” I said, hoping she would volunteer her name. But before she could answer, she started coughing again, so I didn’t press
it. We reached the car, and I let go of her to unlock the passenger side and bundle her in, tossing my purse into the backseat, which was also where I kept my spare hooded sweatshirt. Throwing it on, I looked at her. “Stay here,” I ordered as I slammed the door and ran around to put the keys in the ignition, so I could start the car and get the heater running. She was trembling uncontrollably now, even with my nice winter jacket, along with the coughing. Man, the coughing couldn’t be good for the baby. I really had to convince her to see a doctor.
I slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, cranking the heat up to high. “I’ll be right back,” I said, turning to face her. Despite her huge belly, she seemed so small and so fragile, and my heart broke a little. “I’m going to see if I can find your friend. Arthur, is it?”
Her eyes went wide again, and she shook her head. “No … no … you can’t. The ceiling …” she repeated.
“I’m not going to endanger myself,” I said, trying to reassure her. “I’m just going to look around and see if I can find him. Maybe he got out, like you did.”
She looked at me, and there was such sadness, such despair in her eyes, my heart sank even further, though I didn’t think that was possible. “No, I don’t think so …”
“Well, we can hope, can’t we?” I said, forcing myself to sound more optimistic than I felt. “You’ll be fine here for a few minutes?”
She looked around hesitantly before nodding.
“Great,” I said, sliding out of the car. I didn’t really want to leave her, but I also knew I had to at least see if I could help Arthur. Plus, I needed to find a phone. There had to be one somewhere close by.
I had just circled the burning building when I heard the dis- tinct sound of sirens. Finally! At least I didn’t need to worry about a phone anymore. Now, it was just Arthur and the girl. Although it occurred to me that I had left a perfect stranger in my car with the keys in the ignition. What was to stop her from driving away? And I didn’t even know her name.
An image of her flashed in my mind, with her soot-streaked face, bloodshot eyes, and constant coughing. Even if she did try to drive away, I didn’t think she was going to get far.
Regardless, I found myself quickening my steps as I headed back around the building. I told myself it didn’t make much sense for me to be out there anyway, now that the firefighters were on their way. I could let them worry about Arthur while I took care of the girl.
I reached the front of the building at the same time the fire truck pulled up to the curb. To my relief, I also saw my car, still idling where I’d left it.
One of the firefighters was heading toward me. “Are you hurt?” he called out as he approached. He was good-looking in a whole- some, clean-cut way, with close-cropped brown hair under his fire- fighter’s helmet, dark-brown eyes, and chiseled features. He wore the long, yellow jacket typical of firefighters, and his ID, printed with the name Max, bounced against his chest.
I shook my head. “I’m fine. I wasn’t in the building. But I think there might be someone still in there.”
Max’s eyes widened as he glanced at the fire, swearing under his breath as he turned to gesture toward the other firemen who were busy unwinding the hose from the truck. “Hey, we got a …”
Crack. The sound of the roof collapsing interrupted whatever he was going to say. We both turned to look at what was left of the building.
“I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” he said. “You sure there was someone in there?”
“No,” I admitted. “That’s what the other survivor told me.”
His gaze sharpened. “A survivor? Where is he?”
“She,” I said, nodding toward my car. “In my car. She’s pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” He immediately turned and started waving to- ward the paramedics, who had arrived in an ambulance behind the firetruck.
“Hold on,” I said, grabbing his arm. “She’s young. And skittish. I wanted her to get some medical attention, but she refused. So we’ll need to be … gentle in our approach.”
He eyed me but gave me a quick nod before jogging over to the paramedics, who were in the process of removing the stretcher. At the same time, the other firefighters had finished getting the hose hooked up and turned on the water, which was now streaming onto the fire.
After exchanging a few words with the paramedic, Max waved at me and headed toward my car, his long legs making meaningful strides against the dirty snow. I had to practically run to catch up, which was awkward in my winter boots. Luckily, he saw me strug- gling and slowed down a bit.
“She needs to get checked out,” he said once I reached him. “Do you think you can convince her?”
“I can try,” I said.
He flashed me a quick, sideways smile. “I have faith in you.”
I smiled back, although I wasn’t nearly as confident. I could still see the panic and desperation in her eyes. Hopefully, it was just a temporary reaction to the adrenaline coursing through her body. If it wasn’t … well, I would cross that bridge when I got to it.
As we drew nearer to my car, I suddenly realized I couldn’t see her anymore. Had she collapsed? I broke into a half-run, kicking myself for not insisting on getting her medical attention sooner.
Max glanced at me, raising an eyebrow in question as he quick- ened his own pace, but I was too focused on trying to find her to answer. He followed my gaze, and I heard him inhale sharply. “I thought you said you left her in the car?”
“I did,” I said as I finally reached the passenger door. I peered into the window, sure I was going to see her slumped forward, may- be unconscious, but the seat was empty. I quickly looked at the back seat, thinking maybe she was lying down, but I didn’t see her there either.
“Oh no,” I said, flinging open the passenger door as if she had somehow managed to shrink down and hide in the crevices. But deep down, I knew it was useless.
The car was empty. She was gone.
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