Page 2 of Nicole's Shelter

It was empty.

“Oscar?” She called his name with as much calm as she could muster under the circumstances. Pulling her phone from her purse, she used the flashlight app, praying the light wouldn’t aggravate the poor reptile.

She spotted the leash, and followed the bright ribbon of it to the corner between the tub and commode, careful not to flash the light directly into his eyes. “Smart boy,” she said. “Let’s get out of here. Your mom is worried about you.”

She tucked the phone away, and securing the loose end of the leash around her hand, she scooped him to her chest and used the straps of her purse to help hold him in place.

Oscar wriggled around, clearly unhappy with her rescue attempt. Pressing her lips together, she held back the cry of pain and shock as Oscar’s claws raked through her shirt and scored her skin.

Clutching the panicked iguana, she hurried back to the window and leaned out into the fresher air. Navigating the ladder with one hand wouldn’t be easy, but waiting for rescue wasn’t an alternative.

Above her, the window exploded with a boom and sparkle of raining glass. Flames shot eagerly into the night and the fire roared in victory.

Nicole slid and jerked her way down the ladder, her mind focused solely on reuniting Oscar with Mrs. Beaumont.

* * *

Rick watched his target sneak past the perimeter of emergency personnel toward the building, raising more questions in his mind. Baffled, he watched her climb up the rope ladder and wondered what could be so important she’d risk her life. This apartment wasn’t even on the same floor as hers. Had she stashed something valuable in a neighbor’s place?

It wasn’t adding up. None of their intel said Nicole knew much of anything about illegal activity at the pharmaceutical company she and Allie worked for. With a sigh, he prepared to follow her up the ladder, but another figure moved from the shadows toward the same goal.

Cloaked in a hoodie the Unabomber would envy, the guy—he couldn’t be sure, but the person moved like a guy—climbed halfway up the ladder. Rick recognized the practiced motion that brought a butterfly knife to life. Not good. The blade flashed with the reflection of the emergency vehicle lights on the street as the guy worked on the rope ladder.

What the hell?

As the kid leaped back to the ground, Rick caught a glimpse of the local gang colors. Which meant he was outnumbered, even if he couldn’t see the others right now. Gangs weren’t about individuals and bangers didn’t do anything without the support of an audience.

If Nicole didn’t die up there in the fire, she might well break something trying to escape on that ladder, leaving her vulnerable. Part of his assignment here was to verify her safety.

Going in after her meant he’d most likely trap them both. It was a fool’s errand to try and go in by another route. He could just as easily die in the process of searching for her.

Rick wasn’t ready to breathe his last, but he wasn’t about to leave his target in danger either. Besides this was an intriguing development and it might have bearing on the case. Curiosity wasn’t the worst of his weaknesses and he’d honed other skills through the years to offset it.

The firefighters had their hands full with the blaze ripping through the building. Rick’s gaze cycled between his watch, the window, the shadows, and the flames.

Just as he was sure she’d succumbed to the smoke and become a statistic, she appeared at the window. With a thunderous boom, the glass blew out of the window above her. The fire had shifted.

No other escape route, she had to use the damaged ladder. He watched her, concern mounting as she lurched her way down with one hand. She must have hurt herself in there.

“Wait!” He rushed forward as she neared the place where the ladder had been weakened. “The ladder won’t hold you.”

She looked down, her eyes wide and edging toward panic in her soot-streaked face.

Rick did a fast count of the rungs, judged the distance. “Come down two more.”

She did.

“Now hold the rope on the left. Not the step, the rope,” he clarified as she moved into place.

She had to be getting tired using just one arm. As if on cue, she gave a little whimper confirming his theory. He glanced around, but so far no one was taking exception to his rescue attempt.

He coached her down, relieved with every inch they got out of the sabotaged ladder. “Almost there.” He eyed the distance and moved directly under her. “Drop to me. Use my shoulders.”

“Can’t.”

She was dangling in front of another window. If it blew out… Well, he didn’t need that visual in his head.

“No choice. On three.” He counted. She dropped, skidding down his body. As the momentum took them both to the ground, he twisted, absorbing most of the fall.

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