Finding Fire
Authors: Terry Odell
FINDING FIRE
Copyright © 2011 by Terry Odell
Cover photo by Amy Daraghy
Cover art by Jessica Odell
And thanks to Lev Raphael for his title
suggestion.
SMASHWORDS EDITION
All rights reserved. Without limiting the
rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system,
or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
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prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above
publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used
without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not
authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark
owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal
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other people. If you would like to share this book with another
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share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
* * * * *
Welcome to Pine Hills, Oregon. When I
finished writing FINDING SARAH, the characters, Randy and Sarah,
wouldn't leave me alone. Although I ended up writing a sequel,
HIDDEN FIRE, I also wrote a few short stories, including A WINTER'S
DAY, a prologue to Finding Sarah, and two more stories. COPING
MECHANISMS and A SUMMER'S EVE, that fit into the post-HIDDEN FIRE
chronology. And then, for fun, I decided to share some of the
"behind-the-scenes" aspects of being a writer, which I collected in
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PAGE. I hope you'll enjoy them all.
CONTENTS
A prologue to
Finding
Sarah,
not included in the
novel
What happened before Sarah
met Randy? For Sarah Tucker, life was perfect. She had David, their
gift shop, and despite minor spats, a happy marriage--until the day
everything turned around. A prologue not included in the
novel,
A Winter's Day
introduces heroine Sarah Tucker, and lays the foundation for
what unfolds in Finding Sarah.
* * * * *
Copyright © 2010 by Terry Odell
* * * * *
A WINTER'S DAY
Putting the final touches on wrapping
David's present lifted Sarah's spirits. Another argument about his
sister and her never-ending requests for money had put a damper on
their afternoon. But on her way home, she'd seen a sale on the
digital camera he'd had his eye on, and she couldn't pass it up.
Too expensive for a make-up present, it would be perfect for
Christmas. Now, where to hide it? Someplace where he wouldn't find
it for the next three weeks.
She decided on the closet behind the toilet
paper—the last place David would ever look. Despite his many
endearing qualities, he couldn't even bother to put a new roll on
the spindle when it was sitting on the back of the john. No way
he'd go to the closet to find a new one.
His kiss before he'd
left
That Special
Something
, their gift boutique, had been
perfunctory. Hers hadn't been any warmer.
"I'll be back by six," he'd said. "If I
don't sign the contract with Anjolie today, she'll take her silver
to Pandora's." He started to pull the door closed, then popped his
head back in. "I forgot. Call Chris Westmoreland and tell him
thanks for the reference."
She was determined to put this afternoon's
fight behind them, starting with a special welcome when he got back
from the coast.
She peeked at the clock as she cleaned up
the scraps of ribbon and wrapping paper. Almost six. She could call
Chris later. She tuned the stereo to a soft jazz station and peeked
out the window. A curtain of rain obscured everything until a flash
of lightning illuminated the street below. The immediate clap of
thunder set her heart thumping. Thunderstorms were a rarity in
Oregon.
The moaning of the wind between her
apartment building and the one next door made her wish they had a
fireplace. It would be a perfect night to snuggle together in front
of a fire with some hot chocolate.
Well, she might not have the fireplace, but
she could provide the cocoa, and she and David were damn good at
the snuggling part, too. She smiled as she went to the kitchen.
Once she had everything simmering on the
stove, Sarah searched the linen closet for the winter throw for the
couch. The storm carried a nice blast of Arctic air along with it.
Oh, yes. Definitely a snuggle night.
The sound of the doorbell intruded into her
daydreams. Probably Maggie from across the hall. She tried to wipe
the grin off her face before she opened the door, or at least come
up with some plausible answer to the inevitable, "What are you
smiling at, Sweetie?"
She yanked the door open and found herself
staring into the face of a uniformed police officer. She felt the
smile drop from her face as her heart raced. Had there been a
robbery in the building? Had something happened to Maggie? Or Mrs.
Pentecost downstairs?
"Sarah Tucker?" the office said. "Mrs. David
Tucker?"
"Yes. That's me. Is something wrong?"
"I'm Trooper Cunningham. May I come in,
ma'am?"
"Of course. I'm sorry. Come in." Sarah
motioned him inside, her mind still whirling.
"Ma'am, a green Saturn went off the road
between here and Tillamook."
Something registered in her brain, and she
studied the uniform more closely. Trooper, he'd said. Not a police
officer. Highway Patrol. "Oh, God. David. Where did they take him?
Is he all right? I need to go to him." She dashed to the closet and
pulled her coat off the hanger. "My purse. Bedroom. I'll be right
back."
Sarah grabbed her purse and raced back to
the door. "I'm ready. You'll take me to him, right?"
"Mrs. Tucker," the trooper said. His voice
was sharp enough to cut through her frenzy.
Sarah stopped and looked at him. Read the
expression in his eyes. Waited for him to speak the words, knowing
what he would say next.
"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Tucker. He didn't make
it."
She nodded, too numb to think.
"I'm going to have to ask you to identify
the body. Is there someone you'd like to have with you?"
The room grew bright, and then darkened
around the edges. She tried to say, "No," but nothing came out. She
fought the dizziness. No. This was all a mistake. She'd go with
this man, and he'd show her the body of some stranger. David was
part of her. No way could he be dead. She'd know it. She
straightened her shoulders. "No. Let's go."
"Ma'am, I think it would be better if you
weren't alone. What about Mr. Tucker's relatives?"
"No. Only his sister—but she's in
Portland."
"A neighbor?"
"Umm… Maggie Cooper. Across the hall. But
I'm sure it's all a mistake. We don't need to bother her."
"Will you wait here for a moment? I'll be
right back."
Sarah stood in the doorway and watched the
trooper step across the hall and knock on Maggie's door. This was a
waste of Maggie's time. David was alive. People didn't die at
twenty-six. Besides, she hadn't given him Christmas present yet. He
couldn't die before Christmas. Not when she had the perfect
present. He'd be home when she got back.
Maggie appeared at Sarah's side. "Come on,
Sweetie. I'm here."
Sarah allowed herself to be escorted to the
trooper's car. "I didn't leave a note," she said to Maggie as they
drove. "David will worry about me when I'm not home."
"You'll be back soon," Maggie said.
The next thing she knew, she was at the
hospital. Maggie looked at some pictures, nodded her head. Put her
arm around Sarah's shoulders.
Then someone showed her a picture of a man
wearing David's clothes. Dark brown hair matted with blood, cuts
and bruises on his face. David's face.
"Is this your husband, Mrs. Tucker?" someone
asked.
"It can't be. No. It can't be." They kept
holding the pictures in front of her. She blinked and looked again,
then nodded. A barely audible, "Yes."
She dug deep into herself. "I want to see
him. I have to see him. Please."
She felt the arm across her shoulders
guiding her into a room. "Take all the time you need," a woman said
and folded back a sheet.
"I'm right here, Sweetie," Maggie said.
Sarah stepped up to the body—to David—lying
on the gurney. She waited for the blank, staring eyes to blink.
Those beautiful dark brown eyes. How dare he scare her like
this!
Her mind swirled with a kaleidoscope of
images. David on their wedding day, beaming as she walked down the
aisle toward him. How gentle he'd been that night, her first time.
David sleeping, smiling at a dream she knew included her. The day
they'd signed the papers on the shop. The time she'd had the flu
and he'd tried so hard to make her feel better.
Finally, she leaned down and placed her
index finger on his lips. "Good-bye. I love you." She straightened
and tossed her hair back from her face.
"Thank you," she said to the woman in a
white lab coat, who had positioned herself by the door. "That's
him. My husband."
She marched out of the room and into the
corridor. "I'd like to go home now, please."
"Of course. I'll have Trooper Cunningham
give you a ride. Come with me."
Sarah, Maggie at her elbow, followed the lab
coat down the hall. "Wait," Sarah said. "I need to make funeral
arrangements, right?"
"The coroner will have to determine the
cause of death, and yes, then they will release the body to a
funeral home. Do you know which one?"
"I've never given it much thought," Sarah
said. She felt like someone else was speaking. As if someone had
taken over her body. Someone strong enough to deal with this.
"Do you belong to a church, a synagogue?
Maybe someone there can help."
"Right," Sarah said. "I'll call them when I
get home. I can let you know."
"That will be fine." She handed Sarah a
card. "You can call this number when you know how you want us to
dis—take care of the body."
Body. Sarah refused to let the word
penetrate. "I will."
She stared out the window as Trooper
Cunningham drove them home. The rain had eased into a heavy mist.
Haloed traffic lights and car headlights sped by, interspersed with
the bright neon of storefront signs. Da-vid. Da-vid. Da-vid. The
windshield wipers seemed to beat out his name as they swung back
and forth.
Trooper Cunningham pulled his car alongside
the curb at the front of her building. She climbed the stairs to
the small entryway, and then up the flight to her apartment, hardly
aware of Maggie's presence. The key seemed to find its own way into
the lock, and she was inside.
Maggie found the telephone numbers. The
strong Sarah called her mother. David's father. Her pastor, who
recommended a funeral home and promised to call the hospital.
When she hung up,
Sarah stood and kissed Maggie. "Thanks. I think I need to be alone
now."
"I understand. Call me. Any time."
Sarah closed the door behind Maggie, and
walked to the bedroom. She looked at the bed. Their bed.
Mechanically, she pulled back the covers and sat down. On David's
side of the bed. Picked up his pillow and hugged it to her face.
Inhaled his scent, and the tough, detached Sarah who had
commandeered her body disappeared, leaving only the naked,
frightened Sarah in her place. She allowed the tears to flow, and
wept until she fell asleep.
*****
Sarah clutched her mother's hand as David's
coffin was lowered into its final resting place. Clods of earth
struck the polished wooden box. She heard a gasp and realized it
was her own. She swallowed and felt her mother's arm around her
shoulders.
The next thing she knew, she was at her
apartment, letting people hug and kiss her and put food in her
kitchen.
