Page 12 of Slow Burn
He nodded. “Y’all moved away, didn’t you?”
This was at least neutral territory. But if she was going to pursue this case, she needed to get her head on straight and face it all without tripping up. “Yes, Sir. Nan had a friend out in North Carolina who helped us get settled.”
“I’ve been out that way a few times. Let’s talk in my office.”
Jocelyn ran her hands down the skirt of her dress and nodded, following him back. Amber gave her a reassuring touch on the shoulder as she passed like she had some understanding of loss.
Ward’s office was spare and immaculate, blinds raised to let in full daylight. Awards and diplomas lined the walls, but only one photograph sat on the desk—a dark-haired woman with sadness carved into the lines of her face.
He caught Jocelyn looking, and his right hand moved to his left, as if feeling for what was not there—a wedding ring. It had been there not long ago, though. A tan line remained, as did a faint indentation in his skin. Trouble at home, then.
“So, Jocelyn,” he said, scooting a pile of papers out of his way, “what did you want to talk about today?”
His discomfort matched her own, if for different reasons. Faced now with her opportunity to ask her questions, she found herself floundering in uncertainty.
But she swallowed, steeling herself. “As you know, I was young when… the fire happened. I don’t remember a lot of the details. Bits and pieces, of course, but I’m trying to understand what really happened that night.”
Ward studied her, but she wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Maybe he was still thrown by her resemblance to her mama, maybe by the fact that she was almost the exact same age.
He dipped his chin once, apparently approving of whatever he saw in her expression. “Alright. We’ll start with what I know. You can ask me any questions you have, and I’ll answer what I can.”
Jocelyn nodded, rubbing her fingertips along her thumbs. She had to prepare herself.
“I was about ten years into my career with the department,” Ward said. “Think the call came in around ten p.m.? Some of us had turned in, but I wasn’t asleep yet.” He looked at the desk between them as he thought back. “I remember we rolled out fast, headed down First Street. When we turned onto Hill Drive, we could see the flames before we even got there.”
Hearing it from this side felt a little less like walking through her own trauma. It was just a recounting of a story. But it still pumped her blood faster.
“That was a concern,” he continued. “Dry year, trees too close. If they caught, the whole block would’ve gone.” He caught the way she was staring at him and paused.
She had never considered the possibility of the fire spreading. As a child, her whole world had been that little house, already ancient even twenty years ago. Run down, though Mama hadwanted to fix it up a bit. Their landlord wouldn’t allow it. But the fact that it wasn’t only about her home, or her mama, made her realize how narrow her focus had been until now.
Ward leaned back, clearing his throat. “John Hauser had been nearby. He’d already gotten you out by the time we arrived.”
That was a memory that still had teeth. Being huddled in John’s arms, watching the flames consume every inch of that house when the sirens screamed behind them, the flashing red painting the trees. She remembered thinking the light was there to outshine the burning shade of angry that fire seemed to wield.
In memory, the fire always felt angry, consuming out of spite.
It had always seemed miraculous that John had been there, but it struck her as odd now. Jocelyn frowned. “Nearby?” she repeated. “Doing what?”
Something in Ward’s face shifted, expression tightening. “Was his day off.” He shrugged. “Said he was out walking. Saw the fire, saw you in the window. It’s in his nature to step in.”
His words sounded like a compliment, but something about them felt like stiff bristles along her skin.
“It’s what any of us would’ve done,” Ward added. “Thank God he was there.”
She swallowed, thinking about what might’ve happened had he not been. Then her heart ached for what might’ve been if only he’d gotten there ten minutes sooner.
“By the time we pulled in,” Ward said, voice softer, “the house was engulfed, burning too hot and high to get into. We knew your mama was…” He paused, head lowering.
A fist of emotion pressed against her sternum. By that point, only minutes after she’d been pulled out, her mama was already gone. Jocelyn had lost her before she’d even woken up.
“By then, it was only about containing the fire and keeping everyone safe.”
This she knew from reading the news reports about it. It was too far gone to do more than wait it out. But there was still that question that plagued her, that had haunted her steps since she was that little girl in the window.
“What I don’t understand is why she didn’t wake up when the fire started.”
He shrugged like it was a simple matter of a misunderstanding and not her mother’s life. “The fire started in her room. Candle by the window caught the curtain. Medical examiner found alcohol in her system.”
