Flashover (22 page)

They finished the story just as Charlie pulled into the hospital parking lot. “That's quite a tale. I never would have suspected Sergei in a million years.”

“Me, neither.”

Ivy had an idea. “Charlie, can you take these books over to the police station right now? The sooner they have the info, the safer we'll all be.”

He agreed and they parted company.

Mitch hurried into the emergency room on the heels of a sobbing Madge. She folded Moe into an enormous hug and rocked them both back and forth. A nurse waited until they were through and escorted them both back to tend to Moe's injuries.

Tim and Ivy exchanged a satisfied look.

Mitch shook his head. “I can't believe how close you were to not making it.”

Tim waved in a dismissive gesture. “We had it all under control. Right, Ivy?”

She laughed. “I'm so glad you felt that way. As for me, I had a doubt or two there for a minute.” She looked at Mitch, who did not share their smile. “What's wrong, Mitch?”

He closed his eyes for a minute. “You go get yourself taken care of and I'll explain it all when you're done.”

She hesitated.

“Go on,” he said. “Please. Get those burns seen to. And your wrist.”

Ivy did, though her treatment was interrupted by a call from Jeff. The nurse handed her a phone and she listened to him yelling over the siren noise. “I heard you deployed the Shake 'n' Bake. I can't believe it. Are you all right? Tim and Moe, too?”

“Yes, believe it or not, I'm okay. Some minor burns, but all three of us are fine. Are you en route?”

“Yeah. Me and everyone else in the county. Some fire.”

“Yeah, some fire. Be careful. The winds are tricky.”

“Will do and when you come back you can give us the firsthand account of your experience.”

“I'd be happy to. Bye, Jeff.”

She clicked off and the doctor finished disinfecting and bandaging the burns on her back and shins. They splinted her wrist after she promised to return later for an X-ray. She still felt the elation of their escape; the joy of her love for Tim but worry about Mitch pushed her to hurry out to the waiting room.

Tim was there waiting. Mitch was gone.

“Where is he? I'm worried.”

“So am I.” Tim handed her an envelope. “He left this for you.”

S
he read the letter aloud.

Ivy's pulse pounded in terror. “He's going to the bookstore. We've got to stop him.”

Tim hastily arranged to borrow Madge's car and they sped toward the bookstore. Ivy realized she'd lost her cell phone somewhere in their wild escape. The only thing left clipped to her waistband was the radio pager. “Did you keep your phone by any chance?”

He gave her a sheepish look as he handed her the phone. “I know you told me to throw away all the equipment that I had on me when we got into the shelter, but I was preoccupied trying to get Moe to settle down.”

“How did you get him into that shelter, anyway?”

“I set him to work counting the creases from where the thing was folded.”

“I didn't even notice any creases,” she said as she dialed.

“I didn't either at first, but it kept him from running away.”

She got through to Greenly as they pulled up in front of the bookstore.

“I'm already on my way. There's a really angry pilot in my office who told me an incredible story. Don't go in there, do you hear me? My people will be there in minutes.”

“Hurry.” She hung up.

The bookstore windows were shuttered, the Closed sign hanging in the front window. They got out, keeping behind the shelter of the car. Ivy noticed for the first time how dirty and singed she and Tim both looked. A lock of hair on the back of his head was blackened at the tip. An anger swelled inside her. The idea that someone, anyone, would use fire to kill people, a fire that could wipe out thousands of acres and hundreds of homes, made her furious.

“I can't believe Evans is so two-faced,” she whispered.

“Yeah. He seemed like such a stand-up guy.”

They both jumped when something crashed into the upstairs window.

“Did you see what I saw?”

Tim nodded slowly. “That sure looked like a man's body to me.”

“And he had dark hair.” Fear mixed with the anger. “Just like Mitch.”

 

Evans picked up the books from the floor.

“Thank you, Nick. He was becoming out of control.”

Nick nodded, looked at the crumpled figure on the floor. “They always think there's a free lunch. Shame.”

“We'll have to leave right now.” Evans sighed. “This cannot be salvaged. I will tidy up here while you bring the car around.”

Nick headed down the narrow stairs.

 

They found the back door open, a new sedan parked out back. Tim crept around the car while Ivy peeked in the window. No sign of movement. No sign of Mitch.

Tim rejoined her. “This is a bad idea, Ivy. We should wait for the cops.”

“I know, but Mitch may be hurt in there, dying even. I'll understand if you'd rather wait out here.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, like that's going to happen. Let's move.”

 

Nick heard the sound of the door opening. He stopped to listen. One, two people. Not cops, there was no squeak of leather or jangle of metal. Ah, it was the firefighter and her friend. He smiled. Strong stamina to escape that fire, like the Chinook salmon he'd caught last year that fought with its last ounce of life. Inspiring, really. He unsheathed the knife from his belt and eased down the stairs.

 

Ivy bent low, winding her way through the stacks toward the place where the steps led to the upstairs. Tim headed the other direction, to open the front door for the cops. Though her burned shins complained with every step, she forced herself to go slow, peeking around each shelf, inching her way forward.

A pair of luminous eyes made her gasp. It was an owl, stuffed, glaring at her from a spot on a high shelf. She steadied her breathing and continued forward until she heard it. From her left, the sound of voices.

Tim's words echoed in the quiet of the store. “The police are on their way.”

She crept forward on hands and knees until she neared the cash register. Peeking around a pile of boxes, she saw Tim, standing with his back to her, and facing him was the big blond man holding a knife.

The man had a slight smile on his face. “You have remarkable determination, to outlive that fire.”

“And you have no moral compass to set it in the first place.” Tim's hands were raised slightly in front of him, as though he was preparing to ward off the stab of the knife.

Ivy's mind wheeled. He was going to kill Tim, and Ivy knew without a doubt that he would do it with no qualms at all. What could she do? Her radio pager chafed against her waist as she shifted slightly.

“It will have to do,” she said silently as she unclipped it. Praying her shoulder would hold out, she lobbed the thing as hard as she could over the top of a nearby book stack. It clattered down with a loud crash.

The pale man looked up for a split second and Tim launched himself like a spring. He locked hands around the knife and they went down in a pile of arms and legs. Ivy dashed over, watching in horror as the knife flashed and danced between them. She grabbed the man's foot and twisted hard. She heard the clank of the knife coming loose and hitting the floor.

A vicious kick sent her sprawling backward, smashing into the wooden bookcase. It took a moment for her to blink away the flashes of light that danced across her vision.

She heard Tim grunt in pain. “Tim? Tim, are you all right?”

There was no answer. She had to get to Tim.

Then the big man was standing above her, hands fisted on his hips, light hair eerie in the dimness.

“You have taken a very long time to die,” he said.

She tried to sit up, her head still filled with sparkles of light. “I never was very good at going along with the program.”

A loud thwack sounded above her and the man fell to his knees, a bemused look on his face before he pitched face downward to the floor. Tim came into view, holding the enormous book he'd wielded.

He wiped a smear of blood from his cheek and patted the heavy volume. “My mother always told me to keep a dictionary handy.”

Tim reached down a hand to Ivy.

Without warning, Sergei was there, appearing out of nowhere around a bookshelf. He leveled a gun at Ivy and sighed. “I do apologize, but I'm afraid I will have to kill you both.”

Ivy sat up. “You must be some kind of monster.”

He blinked. “No, not a monster. Just a determined businessman who doesn't allow distractions.”

Tim took a step closer. “Not distractions. People. People like Cyril whom you killed and people like Moe who would have died if we hadn't interfered.”

Sergei's eyes flicked to his watch. “I've not the time for dramatics, I'm afraid.”

“The cops will be here any minute,” Ivy said desperately.

He smiled. “Then I will make this quick.”

Sergei did not finish the last syllable before Tim hurled himself at the gun. It went off with a thunderous clap, tearing a chunk out of the bookshelf next to her head.

Ivy tried to scramble to her feet, but her wrist gave out and she fell back to the floor. Terror gripped her insides as she watched the man she loved strain to get the upper hand.

Sweat poured off Tim's face, his mouth twisted into a grimace.

The gun fired again, a bullet whizzing over their heads and exploding a lamp into a shower of glass shards. She heard the sound of a siren above the noise.

The men thrashed across the floor but Tim's strength and youth won out. With a powerful twist he knocked the gun from Sergei's hand and rolled the man onto his stomach. Ivy thought the fight was over when Sergei leveled a kick that caught Tim in the stomach. Sergei scrambled to his feet and ran out the door.

Still half doubled over, Tim looked at her, panting and bleeding from a cut above his eyebrow. “You okay?”

She nodded slowly, tears starting in her eyes. “As long as you are.”

A feeling swelled inside her and broke through the walls of hesitation and fear. It moved like a mighty wind through her soul and propelled her to her feet. She couldn't wait one second longer. She threw herself into his arms. “I love you, Tim. I love you so much.”

He was quiet for a moment, his face buried in her hair. When he answered, his voice was hoarse. “I feel like I've been waiting a lifetime to hear you say that.” He lifted his head and put his hands on either side of her face. “I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I've prayed for so long, so long to see that look in your eyes.”

His lips were soft against hers, molding her mouth in a kiss that told her everything.

Ivy smiled through her tears. “I can't believe it's taken me so long to figure it out. You've been there for me through all the ups and downs.”

He pressed feather kisses to her cheeks and brow. “It doesn't matter. You love me and that's good enough to last me for a lifetime.”

She sighed, a deeply peaceful feeling filling her chest, momentarily overriding her concern for Mitch, her fear of their attackers. For that one precious moment, the truth of her feelings had set her free, set them both free.

Detective Greenly and two other officers barreled in the door, guns drawn. One headed upstairs.

Greenly looked at them in amazement. “I don't know what to say about you two.”

Tim kept his arm around Ivy. “Where's Sergei?”

“We got him trying to start his car. It seems someone ripped out the ignition wires.”

“Really?” Tim clucked. “This neighborhood is definitely going to the dogs.”

Ivy's fear returned. “My cousin. Where is he?”

An officer's voice called from upstairs. “Got a guy up here. He's alive. Unconscious from a good crack on the head.”

Ivy sighed in relief. He was alive. Mitch was alive. Maybe, with Detective Greenly's help, they could get him out of the mess he'd gotten himself into.

Together Ivy and Tim walked outside, watching as an ambulance crew arrived to treat Mitch. Tim put an arm around her. “That was some overhand pitch. Looks like the shoulder is getting back up to snuff.”

“Uh-huh. I'm going to be back on the line soon. I can feel it.”

He nodded, a wistful look coming over his face. “You got a nasty bump. Do you have any blurred vision?”

She looked up into his face and placed a hand gently on his cheek. “No, I think for the first time in my life I can see everything perfectly clearly.” She pulled his face to hers and kissed him.