Mortal Fear (66 page)

Now everyone sits or stands watching the house burn while we wait for the paramedics to arrive. The sight of a human dwelling being consumed by fire is a powerful,
almost sacred thing. It eats at our sense of security, reminds us that all we have built can be wiped away in a matter of minutes. Ironically, the fire seems a fitting ending to me, who was born and raised in that house. My past has always been a chronic wound. Now its being cauterized before my eyes.

The paramedics load me into a double-wide ambulance beside Mike Mayeux. Hes still unconscious, but Patrick hovers over him, monitoring his vital signs. Drewe squats between the front seats, her hand on my forehead. The pain in my shoulder is becoming a serious nuisance, but then I think of Berkmann. Hes riding a couple of spots back in the convoy, in a plastic bag in Sheriff Buckners trunk. The son of a bitch is right where he belongs.

A lot of lonely and innocent women died because of Edward Berkmann. Most of them I never really knew. But one I did. Better than I should have. And because of Berkmann, she is gone. Holly has no mother. Patrick has no wife. Drewe has no sister. I share that guilt, of course. If I hadnt pushed myself into Berkmanns path, Erin would still be alive. The temptation to second-guess is strong. But I must remember one thing.

Life is simple.

You are healthy or you are sick. You are faithful to your wife or you arent. You are alive or you are dead.

I am alive.