Seven #2
“Helena! Helena!” He raced around the house, covered head to toe in soot. Had he gone inside the house to find them?
“I’m here. I’m okay.”
Sirens wailed. Uncle Rick must have called them.
He raced to her and hauled her into a rock-solid embrace. “You scared me to death. I saw the fire when I pulled up and I tried to find a way in.” He clung to her and she found she was clinging to him, too.
He’d tried to save them.
“What happened?”
“I’m not sure. We were upstairs…checking out the place then it happened so fast. Thank goodness, Lark alerted and guided us to a way out.”
“Did you see anything?” Trevor asked, finally pulled from his stupor.
“Just a truck barreling down the road. Navy blue, maybe black, a darker gray than mine. Didn’t see the driver. Just thought to myself, Slow down, man.”
“I think that was the color of the truck that ran us off the road yesterday,” Helena said to Trevor. “It was dark and hard to tell.”
“What? What exactly is going on, Helena? How much trouble are you in?” Uncle Rick demanded, worry etched into his eyes.
She wasn’t sure. The past few days had been overwhelming—the arson case, Alicia’s murder, and digging into her father’s past. Did it all fit together…and if so, how?
She didn’t know who was targeting her. But the danger she was in… It was deadly. And unrelenting.
* * *
It had been a chaotic scene at the cabin once the fire trucks arrived, their lights slicing through the haze, painting the surrounding trees in harsh reds and blues.
Officers had swarmed the driveway, taking statements, their radios crackling with dispatch chatter, the thick scent of smoke clinging to their uniforms. Rick’s quick thinking when he arrived had spared them a wildfire.
Helena had given them their statement, leaving out that Trevor had frozen like a Popsicle.
He was a straight-up fraud. Should resign immediately from the arson investigation.
But he needed to face his fears. And to conquer them.
If Helena hadn’t been quick on her feet and Lark nudging him to the door, this story might have taken a much different tone.
Helena had almost died in a fire and yet she had the wherewithal to act, to get out.
How could he face her? What would he say?
So far, she hadn’t asked him anything. She’d stayed busy with the first responders.
Helena had offered Rick a place to stay, mentioning her father’s old hunting cabin in Pike’s Peak, a place well off the beaten path where he had been hiking when he fell.
Rick had hesitated, the lines around his mouth deepening, but had eventually agreed, his voice rough with gratitude as he clapped Trevor on the shoulder and pulled Helena into a brief, fierce hug.
Now, back at Trevor’s house, the morning sun filtered through the kitchen windows, the birdsong outside a jarring contrast to the chaos they’d just escaped.
Trevor leaned against the counter, his head bowed, hands braced against the cool granite as he forced himself to take slow, measured breaths.
His clothes still reeked of smoke, the scent clinging to his skin, his hair, filling his nostrils with every inhale.
Helena stepped in behind him, the door clicking softly shut. She set Lark’s leash on the small entryway table. She paused a few steps away, clearly giving him space.
“You all right?” she asked, the concern in her eyes more genuine than he deserved.
He forced a nod. “Yeah. Just…trying to get my head straight.”
She hesitated, then stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. “Cops got what they needed. Rick’s heading up to the hunting cabin.”
Trevor swallowed, his throat still raw from the smoke. “Yeah. That’s good.”
They stood in silence for a moment.
He finally met Helena’s eyes. She’d pulled him from the fire, dragged him out when his fear had frozen him in place. He owed her his life, and that was a debt he’d never forget. “I don’t know what to say, Helena. I promised to keep you safe, and I choked. I let you down.”
Helena’s brows knit together as she studied his face.
She crossed her arms, leaning against the counter beside him.
“Nonsense. Trevor, you went from hearing that your mom has days left to a raging inferno. It brought up the house fire that took your sister’s life and ultimately your mom’s.
” She closed the distance between them and put her hands on his shoulders with gentle strength.
“Anyone would have frozen. You have not let me down. Or your mom. Don’t let one stalled action bring you down and make you feel like a failure.
You did save me from my burning house, you know. ”
Barely. She didn’t understand. “I froze. In a fire.”
“Trevor, that’s—”
“Unacceptable,” he cut in, his voice harsher than he intended. He dragged a hand over his face, the stubble rasping against his palm.
“You’re human. And, again, you’ve got a lot on your mind right now.”
The burden of the last few days settled on his shoulders like a lead blanket. His mother’s rapid decline, the agonizing dread of losing her, the helplessness of it all. He might as well be standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff, the ground eroding beneath his boots.
Helena’s squeezed his biceps. “Look, I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to watch someone you love slip away, to feel that kind of fear, that powerlessness.”
He clenched his jaw, holding back a flood of tears. “I don’t even know who I am without her. I’ve been her son, her caretaker, for so long… I’m not sure what’s left when she’s gone.”
“You’re a good man, Trevor. The kind who runs toward danger, not away from it. That doesn’t change just because you had a moment of fear. You’ll find your footing, learn to breathe again. It just takes time.”
Trevor’s eyes flicked to hers, the sincerity in her expression cutting through the fog in his mind, the unspoken understanding settling between them like a lifeline. His chest loosened, if only a fraction.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice rough. “For…everything.”
Helena gave a small, understanding nod, her hands slipping away as she stepped back, the distance both a relief and a small, unexpected ache.
His phone buzzed and he read the text. “Chuck got more info on Percy Rainer, the UOL professor. He says Percy had an affair with a student six months before his wife filed for divorce. Mindy Blanchard. Not long after the wife filed for divorce, Mindy went hiking on a beginner trail at Pike’s Peak and never returned. She’s never been found.”
“Whoa. He’s connected to two victims. Both college girls. Did Chuck find out if he has ties to any other of our victims?”
“Two more were in his classes freshman year, but it’s a required class. That could be a legit coincidence.” Trevor, however, wasn’t sure he believed in coincidences, at least not when two girls were dead—one never found and assumed to be dead, that was.
“We’re further than we’ve been, Trevor. Percy Rainer and Robbie McMahon both have ties. This could be something.”
“Yeah.” He wanted to be more excited but, at the moment, he was struggling. With the news about Mom and his failure to protect Helena.
“Come on,” she said, her tone gentler now, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Let’s clean up and head over to the university. Maybe this professor has some answers.”
Trevor straightened and watched her head down the hall toward the guest bathroom. He pushed off the counter, his pulse slowly finding its rhythm again. Whatever the rest of the day held, at least he wasn’t facing it alone.
* * *
An hour later, both freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes, Trevor and Helena pulled into the parking lot of Lavender University.
The sandstone buildings rose against the crisp blue sky, their ivy-covered facades almost tranquil in the afternoon light.
But Trevor’s mind still churned, replaying the fire, his mother’s labored breaths, and the uncertainty of the days ahead.
Trevor adjusted his grip on Lark’s leash, a familiar small comfort as they stepped into Professor Rainer’s cramped office.
The air was heavy with the musty scent of old paper and pipe smoke, the kind of place where secrets had time to gather dust. Rainer sat behind his desk, half-moon glasses perched on his nose, his expression one of thinly veiled irritation.
“Can I help you?” The man’s voice held the kind of deep, cultivated rumble that reminded Trevor of a radio host, each word dipped in condescension.
He reached for his glasses, slowly removing them as if he needed a clearer view of the interruption and Trevor showed his badge but nodded to Helena to speak.
They’d discussed in the truck that if he was the killer, he might be more apt to talk to a woman, Helena in particular.
“We have a few questions about a student of yours,” Helena said, her tone steady but edged. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, Lark sitting alert beside Trevor, his dark brown eyes fixed on Rainer.
Rainer’s jaw tightened, a slight flinch betraying his nerves. “I’ve already spoken to the police. Repeatedly. I don’t know what happened to Mindy last year.”
“This is more specific, and not about Mindy,” Trevor said, taking a slow step forward. He watched Rainer’s fingers curl against the armrests, the tendons in his hands pulling taut. “What can you tell us about Kendra Rowe?”