“Hell.” He yanked at the lock again, which was pointless, but gave him a moment to think. From behind them, the dull roar of the fire was getting louder and the air thicker with smoke. She coughed and put her arm over her mouth. He blinked away the stinging in his eyes and looked around for a blunt instrument of some kind. Nothing.
Maybe he could kick it in.
“Do you have a cell phone?” she asked, her voice strained. “Mine’s upstairs.”
He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. She snatched it from him and held it in front of her. “There’s a couple bars.” She pressed a few numbers.
“Get down on the floor.” The door was steel. It wasn’t going to budge. Their only chance was to break the lock. He took a step back and, careful to center his gravity, kicked the door close to the knob. From behind him, he heard Allie speaking on the phone, crouching low to the ground.
He kicked the door again. And again. Each time, a shock of pain radiated up his leg. But he couldn’t stop. He kept up until, around the seventh hit, the doorjamb gave way. Thank God. The fire alarm went off almost at the same time. He looked over his shoulder for Allie and saw the flames had risen higher, spreading to the back of the room. The heat was intensifying.
“Let’s go!” he called.
She was beside him in an instant. He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room. Before they could take off down the hall, he pulled the broken door shut behind them. It might buy the fire department time to get down here before it could spread further.
They sprinted down the hall. The air was already much clearer, and they both inhaled deeply, coughing out the smoke from their lungs. They stopped at the elevator to grab the keys so the fire crew could access the elevator, then found the stairs. When they rushed out into the main floor hallway a minute later, he was relieved to see the few students and faculty still in the building were calmly making their way out to the front lawn. Thank God school had already ended for the day. An hour earlier, this would have been far more serious.
He and Allie herded everyone outside, and Sam was relieved to see the fire crew was already out front, securing a perimeter in front of the school. Chaos reigned, with men sho
uting and fire hoses flying, but at least everyone would be safe now.
He gripped Allie’s hand, reluctant to let go. He needed to see that everything would be okay.
Then he could think about what the hell just happened.
…
Allie tried to take a sip of the coffee Claire had placed in front of her at some point in the last ten minutes, but her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
What had the detective just asked?
His name was Detective Johnson. KC Johnson, if she recalled correctly. The guy who had made the announcement about Mr. Williams. Was the fire connected to that case in some way? She glanced over his shoulder to see Sam leaning against the counter, watching them, but likely unable to hear their conversation.
He’d saved her life, she was certain of that. She’d never have gotten out of that room on her own.
“And you didn’t notice anyone lingering around the area who shouldn’t have been there? Nothing unusual?”
She shook her head and started to speak, but the movement brought on another hacking fit. Her lungs ached from inhaling smoke. “I don’t think so,” she finally managed, her voice hoarse.
The detective paused, and he looked at her for a long moment, his gaze friendly and sympathetic. A small scar under his eye should have made him look sinister, but instead, he just looked rugged. “Okay. And why were you in the basement? I understand from the principal the area is usually closed off to students, and even most of the staff.”
“It is,” she croaked. She took a sip of coffee, the liquid easing the dryness of her throat, and tried again. “I was searching through the boxes for footage I could use for a video I’m putting together.”
“Did many people know about this project you’ve set up for yourself?”
“Probably everyone by now. There was kind of a power struggle about it at the planning meeting. I guess I won…if you can call it that.”
He smiled faintly and glanced at the clock above the door. “I know you’re probably tired and just want to head home, but maybe you can write up a list of people who were there? In case I have some questions. Here’s my card. It has my phone number and an email, if you prefer. If anything else comes to mind, please contact me.”
“Can I ask you something, Detective Johnson?” Allie said, seeing him start to rise. “Do you think there’s some connection? Between the fire and Mr. Williams’s death?”
The detective settled back in his seat. “From what the fire marshal is saying, there’s a lot of old wiring downstairs that could have been the cause of the fire. Your recent activity down there might have triggered something. We won’t know anything certain for a few days. I just want to make sure we don’t overlook any possibility.” He said this in an even, comforting voice, probably to assuage any anxiety she was feeling.
She didn’t buy it.
“Thanks for your time, Mrs. McBride.”
“It’s Ms. McBride. And call me Allie.”