Page 82 of A Surefire Love
“Sure.” Mercy brandished a measuring cup Blaze had supplied and scooped it into the flour. “Dry stuff first, then you make a well for the wet ones and mix again.”
“Got it.”
Mercy doled out the dry ingredients. Blaze pointed her back to the recipe and issued occasional quiet directions. He hadn’t felt a sense of home and family like this since the last time he’d been at his parents’ house. Contentedness replaced some of the fatigue. The family he’d dreamed of having for himself had never had faces before. Now, it did.
Blaze took a break from supervising long enough to eye him curiously.
Right. She wanted details on the fire. “Eric Newsome texted me early this morning that there was a fire at thechurch. He lives a mile or two down the road, so I’m sure he heard the sirens. It was big enough that they had to call in backup from surrounding areas.”
“That’s awful. Just seeing a video of such a big fire ….” Blaze shook her head. “How much damage is there?”
“The sanctuary is a total loss. That’s where they think it started. It spread to Greg’s office and the kitchen, and ate through the wall between the sanctuary and the gym. I’ll be surprised if anything on that side of the church is salvageable. Smoke and water probably did in whatever the flames didn’t.”
Her face paled. “Nothing was saved?”
“The classroom wing, but that won’t give us enough space for services.” He checked his watch. “I’m surprised the leadership board hasn’t called a meeting yet, but I’m sure they will soon. I’ll have to go when they do.”
He accepted the mixing bowl from Mercy and whisked together the dry ingredients before passing it back. She made the well and poured in the milk.
Blaze took a bottle of vanilla extract from a cabinet. The scent wafted over as she measured out a spoonful. “And the cause?”
“I have a theory, but the clues aren’t definitive.”
“Clues?”
He reconsidered getting into it in front of Mercy, but she’d hear all of this eventually. Better for it to come from him with Blaze here. “The motion camera in the youth room went off last night. Someone walked by the window in the door. We don’t have a shot of the person’s face, but they were wearing a Rooted hoodie.” He pointed toward Mercy’s sleeve. “The wordRootedis partially visible.”
Mercy’s lips froze in anO, then her head quivered back and forth. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t start the fire.”
“Don’t worry. I know. There are a bunch of those sweatshirts around. Which is a problem because we don’t know much else about the person. Because they didn’t come into the room, we don’t have enough detail to know if it was a boy or a girl or their exact height. Best guess is they were short—five feet, give or take maybe four inches.”
Blaze studied her sister for a few beats. Anson waited for her to tell Mercy to leave, but instead she asked him, “Between the hoodie and that height, it was probably a student?”
“Seems likely to me,” he said. “Anyway, this was before the fire. When the camera went off, I went and searched the building and didn’t find anyone. I locked up and went home. About half an hour later, a 911 call originated from one of the landlines inside the church. No one responded when the operator answered, so they dispatched police. Officers found the main entrance unlocked and the sanctuary so full of smoke they couldn’t see the flames. An extinguisher was lying in the lobby. The theory is whoever started the fire tried to put it out. When that didn’t work, they called 911 and bailed.”
Blaze braced a hand on the counter. “They’re sure no one was trapped?”
“As sure as they can be.”
She brushed stray flour off her fingers. “Thank God for that, at least.”
Mercy held an egg suspended by the bowl but didn’t crack it.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Sometimes, kids hearthings before adults do, so if you hear anything from any of the students, let me know.”
“I don’t know anything.” She shook her head so hard, the arm holding the egg trembled too. “I’ve never gone there when I wasn’t supposed to.”
He looked to Blaze to reassure her, but Blaze turned away and opened the refrigerator.
It was up to him then. He tried another smile. “I know it wasn’t you. I’m just saying if it was a student, whoever it was might talk about it with their friends.”
Blaze put a small bowl of butter in the microwave for a few seconds.
“Then what’ll happen?” If Mercy paid that egg any less attention, she’d drop it. “When you find whoever it is, they’re going to be in big trouble.”
“Mostly, I want to make sure they’re okay.”
The microwave beeped, and Blaze returned with the melted butter. She surveyed the ingredients strewn across the countertop as if she no longer knew what to do with them.
