Page 65 of The Women of Oak Ridge
“Fire! There’s a fire!”
I whirled around and gasped.
Flames shot out the window of Clive’s trailer. People ran into the street, some with buckets of water, everyone shouting. I stood, dumbfounded, trying to process what was happening. How had his trailer caught fire so quickly? Had Clive dropped a cigarette or match in his haste and accidentally set his home ablaze?
This time the crime will be far worse than a simple robbery,he’d warned before he sped away.
My body began to tremble as I stared at the shooting flames. Cold dread stole my breath.
He’d set the fire on purpose.
He’d brought me here and left me standing in front of his home so everyone would see me. So I wouldn’t have an alibi when the MPs came to accuse me of arson.
So I would keep my mouth shut.
About my suspicions. About the bomb. About Sissy.
About everything.
