Where There's Smoke (80 page)

Paramedics unloaded several boxes of emergency supplies for her use, then sped away with their injured passengers.

The others looked at her through pain-glazed eyes.
 
She hoped they understood how difficult it was to play God, to decide who would go and who would stay.

The firemen made other forays into the blaze.
 
The number of survivors increased, but that made it more difficult for Lara to deal with everyone.
 
Two were in shock.
 
Several were crying, one was screaming in agony.
 
Some were unconscious.
 
She did what she could to administer essential first aid.

She was kneeling beside a man, applying a tourniquet to a compound fracture of his ulna, when car tires screeched dangerously close.
 
She turned her head, hoping to see another ambulance.

Darcy Winston stumbled from the driver's side of her El Dorado.

"Heather!"
 
she screamed.
 
"Oh my God!
 
Heather!
 
Has anybody seen my daughter?"

She charged toward the building and would have rushed headlong into the inferno if one of the firemen hadn't caught her and pulled her back.

She fought him.
 
"My daughter's in there!"

"Oh, no," Lara groaned.
 
"No."
 
Had the girl with whom she'd developed an instant rapport been a casualty?
 
She looked for Heather Winston amongthe rescued, but she wasn't there.

"Sweet Jesus.

At the sound of Key's voice, Lara turned and realized with lightning clarity that he had arrived with Darcy.
 
Shoving personal considerations aside, she said, "Help me, Key.
 
I can't handle this alone."

"I'll get a chopper.
 
On the way I'll call my sister and get her over here to help you."
 
He glanced in the distance.
 
"Christ, that well

"They've already notified someone at Tackett Oil."

"That's number seven.
 
It's on Bowie's route, I believe.
 
He should be along shortly.
 
Once he caps off the well, he'll pitch in and help, too' He had remained in motion since alighting, rounding the hood of Darcy's car and moving toward the driver's side.
 
"You okay?"

"I'm fine.
 
Just please help me get these people to the hospital."

"Be right back."
 
He jumped behind the wheel and sped away even before closing the car door.
 
Moments following his departure, three more ambulances arrived.

The volunteer firemen carried five more victims from the building, replacing the ones Lara had dispatched to the hospital.
 
An elderly woman succumbed to smoke inhalation a few minutes after her rescue.

Her daughter held her lifeless hand and sobbed.

A toddler, who appeared unharmed, was crying for his mother.

Lara didn't know to whom he belonged, or if his mother had even been rescued.

"l'll take care of him."

The offer came from Marion Leonard.
 
Lara's lips parted in surprise, but she didn't waste time on questions.
 
"That would be very helpful.

Thank you."
 
She passed the crying child to Marion, who carried him away, speaking soothingly.

Jack Leonard was there too.
 
"Tell me what to do, Dr.
 
Mallory."

"I'm sure the firemen could use some help dispensing oxygen."
 
He nodded and went to do as she suggested.

Fergus Winston had arrived, Lara noticed.
 
He was holding his wife in his arms.
 
Darcy was gripping the lapels of his coat and crying copiously.
 
"You're sure, Fergus?
 
You swear to God?"

"I swear.
 
Heather called to tell me that they were having an extra cheerleading practice tonight.
 
I gave her permission to leave her shift early."

"Oh, Jesus, thank you.
 
Thank you."
 
Darcy collapsed against him.

He held her close, smoothing back her hair, stroking her tearravaged cheeks, assuring her that their daughter was safe.
 
But his long, sad face and woebegone eyes reflected the light from the fire that was rapidly consuming his business.

When the clap and clatter of helicopter blades reached her ears, Lara looked skyward.
 
A Flight for Life helicopter had arrived.
 
Minutes later it lifted off with two patients aboard.
 
Shortly after that, Key landed the private helicopter he'd borrowed before to transport Letty Leonard.
 
Lara directed two women who had sustained severe cuts and bruises from a blown-out window to the chopper.

"Have you seen Janellen?"
 
he shouted over the racket.
 
Lara shook her head.
 
"Our housekeeper said she went to Longview."
 
He shrugged.
 
"No one at Tackett Oil can locate Bowie either."

"If she shows up, I'll tell her you're looking for her."

He gave her a thumbs-up sign.
 
"I'll be back when I can."
 
The chopper lifted off.

Lara returned to her task, which she worked at unceasingly until time had no relevance.
 
She measured it only by the number of survivors she could keep alive or make more comfortable until they could be transferred to a hospital.
 
She tried not to think about those whom she could not save.

She wasn't without volunteer help.
 
Jimmy Bradley and his wife of two weeks, Helen Berry, arrived and offered her their assistance.
 
So did Ollie Hoskins.
 
Her former nurse, Nancy Baker, was a most welcome sight.
 
She was able, quick, and experienced enough to handle even the most gruesome injuries.
 
Other townsfolk who had previously shunned her volunteered their services.
 
She didn't refuse anyone's help.

That night the motel had been staffed by six employees.
 
The total number of guests occupying rooms was eighty-nine-and two that no one knew about.

Bowie Cato carried his bride over the threshold of the honeymoon suite in the downtown Shreveport hotel.

"Oh, Bowie, it's beautiful."
 
Janellen admired the skyline view as he set her down in the center of the room.

"I shopped around.
 
When I heard about this place, I had to get written permission from my parole officer to come over here on account of it being in Louisiana."

"You went to a lot of trouble."

"It was worth it if you like it."

"I love it."

"For what it's costing, we might not eat for the first month of our married life."

She laughed and placed her arms around his waist.
 
"If you ask your boss nicely, I bet you'll get a raise."

"There's not going to be any favoritism to me just 'cause I'm the boss lady's husband," he said sternly.
 
"I'm no gold-digger.
 
I made that plain the night I talked myself right out of an affair and into an elopement."
 
He shook his head in bafflement.
 
"Still can't quite figure how that happened."

"You refused to let me be gossiped about like I was trash.
 
And I said the solution to that was for us to get married."

He worriedly gnawed the inside of his cheek.
 
"Your mama might have it annulled."

"She can't.
 
I'm a grown-up.

"Key might shoot me.

"I'll shoot him back."

"Don't joke about it.
 
I hate like hell to come between you and your family."

"I love them, but nothing is as important to me as you are, Bowie.

For better or worse, you're my husband now."
 
She coyly ducked her head.
 
"Or you will be as soon as you stop talking and take me to bed."

In high heels, she was as tail as he.
 
Leaning forward, she kissed him lightly on the lips.
 
He made a grunt of acquiescence and took her into his arms, drawing her close for a deep kiss.
 
He became fully aroused almost immediately and stepped back self-consciously.

"Want me to leave you alone for a while?"

"What for?"

Nervously, he rubbed his palms up and down his thighs.
 
"So you can .

. . Hell, I don't know.
 
Do what brides do, I guess.
 
I figured you wanted some privacy."

"Oh."
 
She was crestfallen and it showed in her expression.
 
"I thought you might want to undress me yourself."

"I do," he said in a rush.
 
"I mean, if you want me to."

She seemed to think it over carefully before nodding.

He flexed his fingers like a safecracker about to attempt his personal best and reached for the buttons on her blouse small pearl buttons very much like the ones that had engendered his first fantasies about her.

Their restraint diminished with each article that was removed.

They undressed each other leisurely, allowing time to celebrate each discovery.
 
Even though she'd grown up with two brothers in the house, she had a childlike curiosity about his body.
 
Whispering in wonderment, she told him he was handsome, and he said he hadn't realized her eyesight was so bad.
 
When he told her she was beautiful, she believed it, because his caresses were strongly convincing.
 
He made her feel like a goddess of beauty and romance.

"I don't want to hurt you, Janellen," he whispered as he poised above her.

"You won't."

He didn't, even when he was deep inside her.
 
She was awkward and perhaps too eager to please, so he told her to relax and let him do all the work.
 
She did as he suggested, and to their mutual delight and surprise, her climax was as tumultuous as his.

Afterward, they drank the complimentary bottle of champagne that came with the room.
 
She selected names for their first four children.
 
He swore that by Valentine's Day he'd have enough money saved to buy her a wedding ring like a proper groom, but she argued that she didn't need anything tangible to symbolize his love.
 
She felt it with every breath she drew.

Drowsy with love and champagne, he murmured, "Want to try out the whirlpool bath, or watch HBO, or something?"

"Or something."
 
She flashed him a gamine smile that would have amazed the matrons of Eden Pass who had considered her a hopeless old maid, then slid her hand beneath the sheet and boldly fondled him.

"Good Lord have mercy on us all," he said, gasping.
 
"Miss Janellen's done turned into a regular sex fiend."

Had Bowie and Janellen turned on the television set in their honeymoon suite, they would have seen the news bulletins on the catastrophic fire in Eden Pass that had already claimed ten lives.
 
All the victims had been identified and the authorities were notifying next of kin.

It was hours before the firefighters from six counties finally brought the flames under control.
 
By dawn, the preliminary investigation into the cause of the explosion was under way.
 
Inspectors began sifting through the smoldering ruin.

Early speculation was that Tackett Oil's well number seven might have been a contributing factor.
 
Since Bowie couldn't be located, his supervisor had capped off the oil and gas lines.

Following that precaution, there had been no other explosions, indicating that the well had indeed been feeding the flame.