Page 50 of The Pretender

She stretched, trying to reach the nightstand drawer. An unexpected flash caught her attention. At first she thought it was the reflection from the television, but they didn’t have one in this room. She looked at the picture on the wall then to the window as her brain battled back from the edge.

A mix of orange and red broke through the black night. She blinked, shook her head. Tried to figure out what she was seeing. A light, but not steady. It peeked around the right side of the main house. Fog had descended and blocked her view. Wait... not fog.

Then it hit her. “Fire.”

Harris laughed as his hands landed on either side of her waist. “I agree.”

“No, Harris.” She scrambled to sit and ended up straddling his waist. “The house is on fire.”

By the time they threw on clothes and rushed to the main house, Kramer was already there. He stood by the line of shrubs outlining the porch and yelled instructions to Ted. Harris couldn’t hear over the crackling of the fire as it burned away this home that had already withstood so much.

Smoke raced up the back right side of the house and curled into the air. Flames licked at the Tudor beams. The fire hadn’t spread to engulf the upper floors, but it was only a matter of time. The house was old and sturdy, but it could go up in an explosive ball of flames.

And Damon was in there.

Harris pushed that thought out of his head. It was either that or not be able to function. He needed all of his strength and concentration to get through the next few minutes. He didn’t wait another second. Kramer was talking about running a line to the pool. They didn’t have time for planning. They needed to act.

Leaving Gabby standing there, Harris ran around to the side of the house. Pieces of the house burned and fell, igniting the grass and flowers in an orange glow. Flames ate through the wall. Heat thrummed off the building, creating an invisible wall that he could not pass without gear.

His mind raced as he tried to remember his walks around the island. He’d spent part of every day looking and searching. Call it an occupational hazard, but that meant taking a mental inventory. Right now all he could think about was the hoses in the gardening shed near the back of the house.

A line of fire danced along the porch banister where it met the back of the house. He’d just decided to run through it, take the chance he could beat the fire before it spread farther when he saw Damon walking toward him on the grass. Hoses dragged behind him.

Relief soared through Harris. Air punched out of him on a gasp. The idea of Damon being in there, trapped or worse, had strangled him in panic ever since he saw the flames. But now they could work together. They met under a window at the side of the house.

“The sprinklers are on but they need help,” Damon yelled over the roar of the fire.

Harris couldn’t think about the age of the house or when the sprinklers were installed. They needed to stop the spread of the fire. Harris followed the line of the hose to where it stretched out of the shed. They were hooked to something and he didn’t bother to check. He hoped Damon had handled that.

“Now.”

Damon’s yell and the crash and bangs as the fire devoured part of the house echoed all around Harris. He pushed it all out and turned on the hose. Water shot out and he fought to aim it at the roughest spots. He heard shouting all around him and the sound of footsteps. When Gabby stepped up next to him, he fought back the fear for her safety. A lump clogged his throat but he nodded to her.

Embers somersaulted in the breeze. Smoke blew over them, into them and around them. A white haze seemed to cover the island.

Still, they battled. Harris’s fingers locked on the hose. His arm muscles ached from holding the stream steady. Together with Damon, Kramer and Ted, they fought the fire. The joint attack from hoses, water buckets and the sprinklers turned the growing flames into a flicker.

The whole thing felt like it lasted for hours, but Harris knew it hadn’t been that long. Dark soot stained the side of the house, but the upper floors and entire front seemed unscathed.

When the last of the fire disappeared, Gabby sat down hard in the damp grass. Harris tried to drop the hose but his fingers refused to unclench.

“Here you go.” Damon came over and peeled Harris’s palms free. He put a hand on the side of Harris’s head. “You okay?”

Harris nodded. “Were you asleep?”

“I was in the front office.”

Harris’s memory flashed to the layout and the room by the front door. “Away from the fire.”

“I got lucky.”

Harris looked at Gabby. She sat stunned and unmoving. Kramer had put a jacket over her shoulders. The entire yard was in shambles. Ripped-up lawn and grass slick with water. White pieces of something floated in the air. Harris assumed it had something to do with drywall or paint.

“This can’t be an accident.” Harris looked at Damon. “Did you hear anyone in the house?”

“I’d drifted off.”

“We need to start locking doors and setting the alarm.” Someone kept getting into the house and causing damage. Likely someone standing on the island right now. That fact filled Harris with a killing rage.

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