Chapter 14

Sam drove back toward Ashburg, listening to quiet music on the radio, his mind on Melodie and Cynthia and his new problem.

He wanted to see Melodie again. He wanted to look in her wide, eager eyes. He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted to hold her, and feel the warmth of her body against him.

Melodie, not Cynthia. Damn it, how could this happen? He’d thought he loved Cynthia, thought he wanted to marry her. It didn’t seem right that suddenly, by accident, he should meet a woman who made him want to break away from her.

God, how could he do that to Cynthia?

‘I’m not going to disappear, ’ he’d told her this morning.

‘I’ve heard that before, ’ she’d answered.

Damn it, she expected him to dump her. As if she thought she deserved to fall in love with men and lose them. Life had taught her some nasty lessons: if Sam left her, he’d be adding his own.

He couldn’t.

That’s it for Melodie.

The pain of the thought made him want to jam on the brakes, whip the car around and speed back to the motel. He would take Melodie in his arms, kiss … No!

His clenched hands ached on the steering wheel.

I’ve chosen Cynthia, he told himself. I can’t go back on her now. It’s too late for that. In a few days, I’ll forget all about Melodie.

No, I won’t forget her.

But I can’t have her. There’s plenty of things you can’t have, in this world, and you go along with it because you don’t have a choice.

I have a choice here, though. I could stop seeing Cynthia, make up excuses …

That’s no choice.

I just can’t do that.

I can’t.

Why, damn it to hell, did I have to follow Elmer out there tonight?

He pounded the steering wheel. He was tempted to bash his forehead against it, and wondered if he was going crazy.

Then, up ahead, he saw a quivering red glow in the sky.

‘My God, ’ he muttered.

His foot rammed the gas pedal to the floor.

Must be the Sherwood place, he thought as he sped up the road. There were only a few houses this far out on Oakhurst, and the Sherwood house seemed most likely.

Not surprising for an abandoned structure like that to go up in smoke.

Kids or a derelict could’ve broken in, started a fire. Or Glendon Morley, its owner, might’ve finally decided to sell it to the insurance company.

Had to be arson. Had to be.

Swinging his car around a bend, Sam saw the last house on Oakhurst Road – the home of Clara Hayes. It was okay. Then the Sherwood place came into view, its front shimmering with fireglow, red emergency lights streaking across it. The next house was a pyre.

As he raced toward it, he tried to think who lived there. He didn’t know. Parking in front, he leaped f

rom his car. He spotted Berney near the tail of the hook-and-ladder truck parked in the yard, and ran to him.

‘She’s a goner, ’ Berney said.

‘Whose place is it? ’

‘Horners. ’

‘They get out okay? ’

Berney shook his head, his glasses flashing reflections of the blaze. ‘Nobody’s seen ’em, ’ he said. ‘A neighbor down the road called in the alarm. By the time we got here …’

With a roar of crashing timber, a portion of the roof collapsed. Embers erupted into the red sky.

‘Guess they cooked, ’ Berney said. ‘Four of ’em. Two kids. ’

‘Maybe they weren’t home. ’

‘Both cars in the garage. ’

‘Shit, ’ Sam muttered.

‘Hasn’t been a good day, not a good day at all. ’ Berney took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. ‘You come up with anything on the Dexter business? ’

‘I’m still looking for Thelma. ’

‘Well, stick with it. She’s as good a suspect as any, better than most. ’

‘Yeah. ’

Berney held up his glasses. He squinted at the lenses, and blew on them. ‘Damned ashes, ’ he said.

Sam turned away to watch the fire. The two white jets of water thundering into it seemed to have no effect. Eventually, though, the flood would knock the flames down.

Too late to save the house.

Much too late to save the family.

As he watched, another section of roof crashed down. The heat grew more intense on his face, and he turned away.

A small crowd was gathered beside the road, some folks chatting, most gazing up at the fire. He recognized a few of them: Basil White, Joan Trask, Cameron Watts. Was Clara Hayes among them? She’d been a good friend of Dexter, and Sam wondered if she’d heard about his death.

Everyone must know, by now.

As he looked for Clara, his eyes moved past the fire-red face of a teenaged boy. A familiar face. He went back to it, and his heart lurched.

Eric!

He shot a glance at every face near the boy, but didn’t find Cynthia.

‘See you later, ’ he told Berney.

‘Right. ’

The boy’s eyes remained on the fire as Sam approached. He had the same, shiny eyes as his mother. The same delicate nose, and high cheekbones. Only the mouth looked alien to Sam – a long slit with almost no visible lips. Must be Scotty Harlan’s mouth.

‘Hi, Eric. ’

The boy flinched. He looked at Sam, and took a step backwards, treading on a woman’s foot.

‘Ouch! ’ she cried.

Eric lurched away from her.

‘Hell of a fire, ’ Sam told him.

Eric frowned, looking confused.

‘Want a closer look? ’

‘The policeman told us to stay back. ’

Sam gestured for Eric to come forward.

‘You sure it’s okay? ’

‘Sure. ’

Eric stepped onto the lawn.

Turning away, Sam walked toward the hook-and-ladder. He stopped at its front. A moment later, Eric appeared beside him.

‘The view’s better from here. ’

‘Yeah, ’ Eric said, gaping at the blaze.

‘I guess the people got killed. ’

Eric wrinkled his nose. ‘Yeah, ’ he said. ‘Gross. ’

‘You didn’t know them, did you? ’

‘I’ve seen ’em around. Joe, mostly. He was a jerk. ’

‘Not anymore. ’

‘Yeah. ’

‘Is your mother here? ’

He shook his head, glanced at Sam, and quickly looked back to the fire.

‘How’d you get here? ’

‘Walked. ’

‘Does your mother know? ’

‘She’s not home. What’re they gonna do with the bodies? ’

‘They’ll bring ’em out, once the fire’s cold. That won’t be for a long time, though. How about a ride home? ’

‘No, that’s okay. ’

‘Come on, Eric. ’

He scowled up at Sam. ‘I don’t feel like it. ’

‘Why not? ’

‘Doesn’t matter. ’

‘Are you mad because of last night? ’

‘Maybe. ’

‘Well, I can understand that. I’m sorry it happened, too. It was a hell of a way to meet. But can’t we forget about that, and start over? ’

‘Why should we? ’

‘I’d like to be friends. ’

‘I don’t need a friend like you. ’

‘Like me? ’

‘All you care about is messing around with Mom. ’

‘Eric, your mother and I …’

‘Now you want to kiss up to me and get me on your side so you don’t have to sneak around anymore behind my back. Well, screw you! ’

‘Eric! ’ Frowning, Sam reached for the boy’s shoulder.

Eric knocked his hand aside, whirled around, and ran for the road. Sam decided to let him go. He wouldn’t accomplish much by intimidating the kid. Better to work on him gradually, winning his trust a bit at a time.

He turned away. For a while, he watched the fire. Flames still reached out the windows. They burned inside the structure and clawed at the sky through the blazing skeleton of rafters.

Sam turned around, and scanned the crowd for Eric.

The boy was gone.

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