e.

What were the chances of that happening? Fear spurred her on. She ignored the speed limit as she drove into town and down the familiar streets, smelling the smoke, seeing lights flashing before she turned onto the street where her brother and his wife had lived for years.

Dread pulsed through her. All her thoughts centered around her brother and his family. Images flashed across her mind: Robert and Mary Beth’s wedding reception…Mary Beth still in her full-length beaded dress, long finished with the rites of cutting the cake, toasting their marriage. Their first dance together. Mary Beth’s tears of joy. The birth of their daughter, Elizabeth, and her christening down at St. Theresa’s church. She remembered the day Robert Junior was born a few years later. Shannon had waited outside the delivery room to welcome her nephew into the world. Her mind then flashed to the family get-togethers, sometimes on the Carlyle side, sometimes on the Flannery, where Robert and Mary Beth had either cuddled like newlyweds or not been speaking because of their most recent spat.

She pulled around a final corner and faced what looked like utter chaos.

At the block nearest Robert’s house the street had been cordoned off. One fire engine and two trucks were parked in front of Robert’s house and the nearest hydrant. Police cars, their lights a swirl of red and blue, were parked in the street. Dozens of neighbors and lookie-loos who had followed the big rigs stood by. Across the street was parked the inevitable news van, a reporter already positioned in front of the blaze.

Shannon arrowed her truck into a spot too narrow for it, scrambled out, and ignoring protests from her ribs and shoulder, walked briskly down the street.

Flames were shooting toward the sky, black smoke billowing into the heavens. Shannon’s stomach roiled. Please, God, let them be safe. Please, please, please.

Firefighters had the situation in hand. Hoses snaked across the street and the lawn. Men and women in protective gear hosed down the roof and surrounding houses. A great hiss and steam rose over the roar and crackle of flames.

Despite the pain in her ribs, Shannon jogged down a now-wet and shimmering street. Smoke made her cough as she wended through the knots of people who were looking, staring, fascinated by fire and the sense of impending tragedy.

She reached the police barricade and was rebuffed. “No one past this line, ma’am,” one burly guard insisted.

“But this is my brother’s house!”

“No one past the line, ma’am.”

“Is anyone inside? Please, do you know?” she demanded, frustrated, her eyes searching the helmeted firefighters covered in protective jackets, hoods and pants, all looking the same. Was Robert among them?

Of course not. It wasn’t his shift. You saw him only a few hours ago.

What about Mary Beth?

Her gaze shot to the garage where the door was shut. She couldn’t divine whether a car was inside. And the kids…Oh, sweet Jesus, the kids. Surely they were safe. They had to be.

“Is…Was anyone inside?” she repeated.

“Listen, lady, it would be best if you just went home. You’ll know soon enough,” the cop told her.

“No way. Where’s the police fire investigator? Shea Flannery?”

Another officer, with a narrow chin and pencil-thin moustache, hitched a thumb toward what appeared to be the command center. “I think he’s over there, but you can’t cross this line.”

“I’m the sister of the owner of this house! My family might be inside!”

“All the more reason to stay back.”

She felt a hand on her elbow and spun quickly, expecting that some macho member of the Santa Lucia police or fire department was intending to escort her away. Instead she found Travis Settler at her side. A part of her wanted to crumble, to fall into his arms and pound her fists in frustration. She just needed someone to hold her, to tell her it would be all right.

Instead she looked up at him. “What’re you doing here?”

“Heard the sirens. The motel is only half a mile away. I thought…Christ, I don’t know what I thought.” His eyes were dark with the night. “But with the fire at your place, I just had to come and see, and now…” He shook his head, deep lines of concern bracketing his mouth.

“It’s a nightmare,” she whispered, the smoky, damp air filling her nostrils. She spied Shea talking with the fire captain and noticed Aaron weaving his way through the crowd toward her. Everywhere there was a fine mist, spray from the hoses.

“I got hold of Robert,” he said, and Shannon felt relieved knowing that her brother was safe. “He’s on his way.”

“What about the kids? Mary Beth?”

“The kids are still at Margaret’s. He left Mary Beth here.”

“Here…!” Her hand flew to her mouth, though she told herself not to imagine the worst. Mary Beth might have escaped the blaze. “Has anyone seen her?”

Tags: Lisa Jackson West Coast Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net