Chapter Seven
The only thing that Declan could see below Cully and him were the blistering flames and the thick black smoke. Definitely not a good combination because not only were they blocking their exit, the smoke would soon be smothering. And the fire would kill them if they didn’t get the hell out of there soon.
But how? Where?
Thankfully, Cully came up with something. “There are back stairs. This way,” she blurted, taking hold of his arm and pulling him down the hall in the opposite direction of the fire.
Not away from the smoke though.
Even through the darkness in the hall, Declan spotted wisps of it, and soon those wisps turned into more of a fog. He soon saw something else he sure as hell hadn’t wanted to see. When they reached the end of the hall where there was another set of stairs, there were also more flames.
Someone had set one here, too, because there was no chance Declan was buying that the two fires had started on their own. Added to that, there was that stench of gasoline.
But who had done this?
And why?
Was it to destroy a crime scene or to murder Cully and him? Declan only hoped he got the chance to find that out.
“Declan? Cully?” he heard someone shout.
Harris.
From the sound of it, he was near the front door, and he was coughing. “Are you two all right?”
They weren’t, not by a long shot because Cully and he started coughing as well. His throat and lungs suddenly felt as if someone had scalded them. That could possibly mean there was some kind of chemical mixed with the accelerant. Maybe something just as dangerous as the fire that could kill them if the flames didn’t do the job.
“We’re upstairs,” Declan shouted. “Get out of the house and call the fire department.”
He didn’t want Harris getting killed while trying to get through those flames to try to rescue them. Even if there were fire extinguishers around, that wouldn’t be enough to stop the fire from eating through the old wood.
“And, Harris, please stay with my mother,” Cully added.
Good idea because if the arsonist was still around, they might go after Harris and Alice as well. Also, Alice might panic and attempt to run into the house to protect Cully.
“There might be a fire escape ladder on one of the windows,” Cully said through the coughs, and she raced back into the main bedroom.
There were three huge windows in here, and they hurried to each one, checking, but there was no ladder.
“Don’t,” he said when Cully reached to open the window. “The oxygen will just feed the flames.” And the fire was already too big, too hot, too deadly without giving it more juice.
Hurrying to the middle window, Declan glanced down at the ground below and saw the stone pavers and landscape boulders. Definitely not a good place to jump from the second floor.
Though that was something they would no doubt have to do.
“This way,” he insisted, motioning for her to follow him to the next room.
There were two windows in here, no ladder, and more of those damn rocks and pavers below. Since they seemed to span the entire length of this side of the house, he took hold of Cully and got them moving across the hall.
The smoke was even thicker now, and it was harder to breathe. Harder to see, too, and soon, very soon, they’d have to risk jumping no matter what was below them. They could end with broken bones, but unless they landed on their heads, they could survive.
At least they could if the arsonist wasn’t waiting out there to kill them.
He could only hope this wasn’t about them. Nor about Harris and Cully’s mother either. That the arsonist was merely out to destroy evidence and not claim a life or two in the process. Because if someone truly did want them all dead, then Harris might not be able to fend off a killer.
Alice and he could both be murdered.
That possibility got Declan moving even faster, and they bolted toward the windows in what had likely been another bedroom. The smoke was coming up through the floorboards here, and he didn’t want to think of the fire tearing through the wood and tumbling down into the flames below.
They ran toward the single window in the room. Again, no ladder. But at least there were no rocks or stone pavers below. Just some overgrown shrubs and weeds. Beyond that though was a cluster of thick trees. A good place for someone to hide and wait for them to leap out.
Declan caught onto the bottom of the window and gave it a shove. At least that’s what he tried to do. But it didn’t budge. No doubt because of the layers of old paint sealing the blasted thing.
He tried to hoist it again. And again. It held steady. Unlike the smoke and the heat. It was much hotter now, and he heard the sound of something collapsing. Maybe the stairs.
Hell, maybe the entire house.
Cully and he didn’t have much time, and they couldn’t rely on the fire department to save them. Even if they were already on the way, they wouldn’t get here in time.
“Stand back,” Declan told Cully. “And cover your eyes.”
The moment she did that, he kicked at the window. It shattered, glass and wood splinters flying. Some of them probably hitting Cully and him. But he kicked again, aiming for the jags of glass that were hanging on like broken teeth. Those would rip them to shreds if he didn’t clear them out.
It took nearly a dozen kicks, but Declan finally managed to get the window as clear as possible. “You first,” he told Cully.
Declan took out his backup weapon from the slide holster at the back of his pants and handed it to her. Even through the darkness and smoke, he could see her eyes widen.
“It’s just a precaution,” he insisted. “And the safety’s on.” He showed her how to turn it off if it became necessary.
He prayed it wouldn’t be.
“Keep your feet and legs together,” he instructed, helping her into the gaping hole where the window had once been. “And lower yourself from the ledge.”
He helped her with that, too, forcing himself to stay calm despite hearing another crash below them. He wasn’t sure how much longer the floor would hold.
Cully sat on the ledge and looked at him. She opened her mouth to say something but then must have changed her mind. Instead, she tucked the gun in her belt and maneuvered off the ledge, holding on with her hands until she got her knees and legs back together.
Then, she dropped.
She didn’t cry out in pain, thank God, but he figured she was hurting. Still, she managed to get out of the way fast, scrambling away from the window to clear the way for Declan to do his own jump.
Relying on his military training, he went fast. Dropping. And feeling the jolt of impact through his entire body. But he didn’t take even a second to recover. He drew his gun, took hold of Cully, and got them moving.
She limped a little, but she managed to run, which told him that nothing had likely been broken. If so, they’d gotten damn lucky, and he needed that luck to continue.
The smoke was all around them, but they fought their way through it and raced toward the vehicles. He spotted Harris outside the CSI van, his phone pressed to his ear. Alice was in the driver’s seat next to where Harris was standing.
Both alive.
But maybe not safe.
“Get in the van,” Declan shouted, and he wished they had a cruiser since it would be bullet-resistant.
No shots came though. Still, Declan didn’t hang around to see if that was part of their attacker’s plan. He threw open the back door of the van and got Cully and himself inside.
“Are you hurt?” Harris asked, practically diving into the driver’s seat.
Declan shook his head, looked at Cully. And cursed. There was blood on her right temple. Maybe from the shattering window or the fall. It twisted his gut to see her hurt, but he knew it could have been much, much worse.
“What happened?” Harris pressed as Cully moved closer to check on her mother. Alice had that vacant look in her eyes again, and she was staring out the front window.
“Someone set fires,” Declan explained. “One at both the front and another at the back stairs. That’s why we had to jump.”
Harris cursed. “Did you see who did it?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Declan replied. “I figure the fires had to have been set within minutes after you took Alice out here.”
Which meant the arsonist had either been waiting inside the house or had been close by it. And he or she had been ready to burn the place down since they would have no doubt had the gasoline with them.
Harris shook his head, obviously trying to process that. “I haven’t seen anyone,” he insisted.
“I did,” Alice muttered.
That got their attention, and Declan maneuvered to get closer to her as well so he could better see her face. He had no idea if she was responding to the conversation or if she was in her own world right now.
“Mom, who did you see?” Cully asked.
Alice kept her gaze pinned to the window. “A killer.”
Declan and Cully exchanged a glance before she turned back to her mother. “What killer, Mom?”
Alice pointed toward the back of the house. “There. She ran out that way and into the trees.”
“She?” Cully pressed.
“Yes.” Alice finally shifted away from the window and looked at Cully. “It was Renee. I think she must have tried to kill you.”