7th Heaven - James Patterson [51]
“Lindsay,” I heard someone shout. “Are you okay?”
I turned to see Chuck Hanni coming out of the bedroom.
Did he have something to do with this?
Had Rich been right all along?
And then I saw Conklin right behind Hanni, and both of their faces were sagging with my pain.
Rich opened his arms. I held on to him in the smoking black ruins of my home, so glad he was there. But as I rested my head on his shoulder, the stark realization hit me: if Cindy hadn’t called with her impromptu getaway plan, I would have been home with Martha when the fire broke out.
I ripped myself away from Rich and called out to Hanni.
My voice was trembling.
“Chuck, what happened here? I have to know. Did someone try to kill me?”
Chapter 68
HANNI SNAPPED ON the portable lights inside what was left of my living room, and in that blinding moment, Joe burst through my splintered door frame. I flung myself at him, and he wrapped me in his arms, nearly squeezing the air out of me.
I said, “I called and called —”
“I turned off my damned cell at dinner —”
“From now on, you’ve got to put it on vibrate —”
“I’ll wear an electric shock collar, Linds. Whatever it takes. I’m sick that I didn’t know you needed me.”
“You’re here now.”
I broke down and cried all over his shirt, feeling safe and lucky that Joe was okay, that we both were. I only vaguely remember my friends and my partner saying good-bye, but I clearly recall Chuck Hanni telling me that as soon as it was daylight, he’d be all over the building, looking for whatever caused the fire.
Don Walker, the SFFD captain, took off his hat, wiped his forehead with his glove, saying that Joe and I had to leave so he could secure the building.
“Just a minute, Don, okay?” I said, not really asking him.
I went to the bedroom closet and opened the door, stood there in a daze, until I heard Joe say behind me, “You can’t wear any of this, honey. It’s all a loss. You’ve got to walk away from it.”
I turned and tried to take in the utter ruination of my four-poster bed and photo albums and the treasured box of letters that my mother wrote to me when I was away at school and she was dying.
And then I focused my mind and scanned every inch of floor, looking for something specific, a book that might be out of place. I found nothing. I went to my dresser, pulled at the knobs of the top drawer — but the charred wooden drawer pulls crumbled in my hands.
Joe strong-armed the dresser and the wood cracked. He gripped the drawer and heaved it open. I pawed through my underwear, Joe saying patiently behind me, “Sweetie, forget this. You’ll get new stuff . . .”
I found it.
I palmed the velvet cube in my right hand, held it into the light, and opened the box. Five diamonds in a platinum setting winked up at me, the ring that Joe had offered me when he asked me to marry him only a few months ago. I’d told Joe then that I loved him but needed time. Now I closed the lid of the box and looked into his worry-creased face.
“I’d sleep with this under my pillow — if only I had a pillow.”
Joe said, “Got lots of pillows at my place, Blondie. Even got one for Martha.”
Captain Walker stood at the door waiting for us. I took one last look around — and that’s when I saw the book on the small telephone stand just inside my front door.
I’d never seen that book before in my life.
That book wasn’t mine.
Chapter 69
I STARED IN SHOCK and disbelief at the large 8½ by 11 paperback, tomato-red with thin white stripes running crosswise beneath the title: National Guide for Fire and Explosion Investigation.
I started screaming, “That’s evidence. That’s evidence.”
Captain Walker was worn out and he was also out of the loop. He said, “The arson investigator will be back in the morning, Sarge. I’m boarding up your place so it’ll be perfectly safe, you understand?”
“NO,” I shouted. “I want a cop. I want this thing locked up in the evidence room tonight!”
I ignored Walker’s sigh and Joe’s hand on the small of my back. I dialed Jacobi’s number