Page 101 of Every Deadly Suspicion

“What are you looking for?” Hanna asked Jared.

“A way out. The side wall is brick. The porch is raised and wooden.” He coughed and pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose. “If we can get through this wall and out to the porch, we can get out.”

Rita and Hanna both coughed again. The smoke and heat were getting more intense by the moment.

“We need to get down,” Jared said as Hanna took Rita’s hand. “Fire, smoke, and heat rise.” They knelt as Jared continued probing the wall. It did sound hollow.

They’d found the phone and help was coming. Would it get here in time?

CHAPTER 52

JARED KNEW THEY HAD TO GET OUTinto the fresh air soon. He could hear sirens now, but they could not afford to wait. The dry wood was burning hot and fast, and the fire was burning hottest by the door—the only way out was under the house, he was sure.

His eyes and throat burned, and Hanna and Rita were coughing too. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. He used the tip of the crowbar and found an opening. Success!

Coughing, he turned to Hanna. “Get all the way in and pull that door closed behind you.”

Hanna did as he asked. With the squeak of nails protesting, he pulled a board free and then another. Cool air came through the opening. When it was big enough to step through, he knew they would get out.

“Okay, let’s go.” He helped Rita up and pushed her through the opening. He motioned for Hanna to follow.

Rita’s cell phone rang. Hanna held it and answered on speaker.

“Chief, Asa wants you to stay on the line. Fire is almost on-scene. Where are you?”

A large crash sounded from the garage, and red-hot embersexploded through the space under the door. Hanna ducked reflexively and almost dropped the phone.

“I think the garage is collapsing,” Jared said. “We have to hurry.” He heard Hanna’s conversation with the PD.

“We’re under the house, on our way to the front porch to get out,” Hanna told dispatch. She coughed too much to suit Jared. They had to get out. Now!

“Have to move, Charlie, have to move.”

Jared saw her end the call and then wipe her watery eyes, which probably burned, with her palm.

“Come on, Hanna.” Jared pushed her through the opening behind Rita and then followed. It was dark and smoky but not as bad as it had been in the garage. They built things differently in the 1800s. Basement rooms were common then, though not now. This was an obvious passageway under the house. It was complete darkness here, but the air was better, and it was cooler.

Jared could hear sirens close and the sound of trucks coming to a stop. “Ah, help is here.”

Just then Rita fell to the ground, coughing and sobbing.

“Let me have the phone.” Jared reached out to Hanna, and she handed it to him. He found the flashlight function. Shining it on Rita, he saw that she’d cut her foot. She’d lost one of her high heels, and her skirt was black with dirt and soot.

“Sorry, Rita, but we have to move. There is not enough room in here for me to carry you. I guarantee that we’re almost out.”

Hanna cast a glance at him as she coughed as if to say,“Are you sure?”

He illuminated the path, then the ceiling. It was low; he could feel and see floor joists brushing his head.

“I can’t,” Rita coughed. “Let’s wait—”

“We can’t wait.” Hanna took the words out of Jared’s mouthand pushed her along the passageway. She had one of Rita’s arms and Jared took the other as they pulled her along as gently as possible.

“I’m afraid this will take us farther under the house,” Jared said, “and not the way I want to go, toward the porch.”

He could feel the heat increasing. Had he miscalculated?

“Look up,” Hanna said.

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