Firefighters barreled through the smoke and into the reception area. Piper and Aiden were rushed out of the building. The moment they were outside it was like a veil had been lifted. The cool air and spattering rain smacked Piper’s wet, half-naked body like a sack of ice cubes and she began to shiver.
With the clarity of the fresh San Francisco air came the blinding red and blue strobe lights, an overwhelming discord of noises, and the chaos spilling out into the street. Orders were shouted, sirens wailed, onlookers cried out, and over it all the dogs were barking wildly in the rear courtyard.
It was bewildering. An entirely different kind of fright than the one Piper just went through. She reached for Aiden’s hand, but they were steered in opposite directions, toward different ambulances. He was sucked into the crowd of firemen, police, ambulance attendants, and lookee loos.
Strong hands reached out to Piper. They helped her onto a stretcher, but it didn’t feel like help. She pushed them away, struggling against their firm grips.
“I’m fine,” she kept saying. “I’m fine.”
Which was true—at least, she thought so—but she didn’t sound like it. Her voice had the refinement and lilt of gravel under a boot. And as the adrenaline faded, new aches and pains began to introduce themselves in an all too intimate way.
For all she knew, she could have been missing both eyebrows, looked like Batman’s Two-Face, and still had the arsonist’s shoe implanted in the center of her chest. If the way she felt was any indication, it was a definite possibility.
Piper’s body didn’t yet understand that it was time to relax. That the fighting, the danger, was over. And all she could think about was getting to Aiden, to see that he, his eyebrows, and every bit of him was okay.
She glanced up. A female attendant hovered at the head of her stretcher. She helped slide Piper into the back of the ambulance. The embroidered badge on her uniform said: Mollim.
“Look,” Piper said. “I’m fine. Really.”
“We’re just going to check you over to make sure,” Mollim said. “Just relax. Everything is going to be okay.”
A second attendant hoisted himself into the back and shoved a mask onto Piper’s face. Oxygen hissed at her. Various other attachments followed, monitoring things like blood pressure, temperature, oxygen saturation.
The rapid treatment made her anxious, like maybe there was more wrong with her than she knew. Out of frightened instinct, she batted away their nursing, but a hand appeared and held hers down.
Now she knew what one of her own furry patients went through when she poked and prodded them during practicum. Scared, helpless, anxious. Any more and she thought she might start biting.
A warm cotton blanket was pulled from a toasty oven somewhere and laid on top of her. It didn’t take long for the oxygen to clear her head a little, and she regained enough sense to relax and let the EMTs do their job.
Mollim, or Willow, as it turned out in the right-side-up, oxygen-rich world, leaned over Piper with a stethoscope. “This might be a bit chilly.” She reached under the blanket and stuck the ice-cold instrument against Piper’s chest. “Take a deep breath.” She moved it to another spot. “And again. Good.”
Piper kept breathing until Willow pulled away. “Clear to bases bilaterally, air entry adequate,” she told her partner, who jotted it down on a clipboard.
After a million questions like “Do you feel short of breath?” and “Any difficulty breathing?” Willow finally backed off.
A police officer lingered off to the side. At a brisk nod from the attendant, she moved in with a whole new set of questions. She wanted to know about the arsonist, if Piper saw what he looked like, where he went once he left, if it was on foot or by car, approximately how long had it been?
Piper could tell her very little about what he looked like, but once the officer was satisfied with the answers she tilted her head to the radio clipped to her shoulder and called for the “canine unit.”
“Someone will come find you shortly to ask more questions,” the cop told her. “Don’t go too far.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t like Piper had any plans. She turned back to Willow. “So, what’s the prognosis? Am I going to live?”
“You seem to be in good shape, considering,” she told Piper.
“I told you.” She yanked off the oxygen mask.
“You’re very lucky.”
“My boyfriend fought the fire for longer than I did. He probably inhaled more smoke.” She was vaguely aware the B word had slipped out, but she blamed it on the oxygen deprivation.
“It’s not smoke inhalation that’s the worst of it,” Willow said. “It’s heat inhalation.”
“Uh-huh.” Piper was only half-listening. She craned her neck, trying to see out of the open ambulance doors and past the shifting bodies on the street. “Is he all right?”
“We can find out about your boyfriend in a second. It’s you I’m worried about right now.”
“But you said I’m fine. Am I free to go?”
“I didn’t say you were fine. I said you were in pretty good shape, considering. It’s always a good idea to get checked out at a hospital.”
Piper thought about Colin and the distressed dogs cooped up in the tiny courtyard and what they must be going through at that moment. The sooner she could get to them, the better. These dogs came from troubled pasts to begin with; they had a hard enough time trusting and feeling safe. An event like this could lead to post-traumatic stress disorder. Not to mention, she had some apologizing to do for yelling at Colin.
Besides, she thought about the treatment in the emergency room, the diagnostics they would run. Each one meant more dollar signs, more decimal points. She knew firsthand how expensive medical care was, and she didn’t want to watch her tuition money go down the drain just so a doctor could tell her she was just fine.
Nope. She’d had enough of hospitals for a lifetime.
“No. I’m fine, really. I feel great. Nothing a strong cup of coffee won’t cure.” She chuckled, but it only brought on a coughing fit that shook her body until her face turned a bright magenta. “And maybe a lozenge.”
Willow frowned. “Well, you know my opinion, but I can’t force you to come with us.”
Relieved, Piper began unhooking herself from the monitoring equipment. “I’m fine, really. You were awesome. Thank you.”
Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the stretcher. Her head spun with the motion. She thought it prudent not to mention that, or that her thoughts were still disorganized like she had just woken up after a graduation day bender.
Willow passed her a clipboard and pen. She pointed to an X marked at the bottom of a page that was too blurry and scratchy to read. Or maybe that was just Piper’s eyeballs.
“You need to sign here. This is a release form to indicate that you’re refusing further medical care.”
Piper signed in the general area of the X and passed it back.
Willow riffled through some drawers and produced a package of lemon lozenges. “Watch for shortness of breath, dizziness, and labored breathing,” she told Piper. “You’ll cough. A lot. But if you start coughing up anything strange, get it checked out. If you have any doubt at all, please get yourself to an ER.”
Piper popped a lozenge out and thanked her. She crawled out of the back, where the other attendant helped her down to the pavement. The night air blew up her short police shorts, and cool drops of rain fell on her shoulders. At least it had slowed to a mere sprinkling.
Piper shivered. She’d forgotten she was still in costume.
Willow leaned out the doors with a freshly warmed blanket. “And you might need this.” Her mouth quirked up, but she made no comment about Piper’s choice of firefighting gear.
Too tired to explain the costume, she took the blanket gratefully and wrapped it around herself. “Thanks, Mollim. I mean, Willow.”
It was chaos outside. Police, firemen, news vans, squad cars, fire trucks. Beyond the police tape, the street spilled over with locals who had nothing better to do at almost ten at night but gawk at someone else’s misfortune. And that was where she spotted Holly Hart and her cameraman, Hey, You, shoving their way to the front of the crowd.
Holly scanned the crime scene and spotted Piper right away. Not that it was hard to spot a drenched, half-naked girl covered in dog hair and soot. Holly waved her over, like Piper was the bouncer of a nightclub—the worst one ever—and Holly desperately wanted to skip the line.
Piper waved but had no intention of doing an interview that night. She would do enough talking to the investigators. Ignoring Holly’s frantic shouts, she carried on, weaving through the officials, over fire hoses, and under police tape.
All around her, people moved with less urgency now. The danger had passed and it was about containment and finding out the who, what, where, when, and, most important why. Why would someone do this?
Was it someone helping Laura? But if that was the case, surely she wouldn’t want to hurt the dogs. Or was it a disgruntled neighbor? Then again, maybe it had something to do with Aiden. The night she was nearly flattened in the alley came rushing back to her. They’d been targeting her, not Aiden. Was Piper to blame somehow?
Her already-spinning head was starting to feel heavy from all these thoughts. She had to squint against the sudden pain in her forehead to see through the flashing lights.
Finally, she spotted another ambulance. The doors were flung open. The EMTs were in the back fetching and organizing supplies. She scanned the area, her eyes darting over the chaos, but she couldn’t see Aiden.
Maybe they’d taken him to the hospital. Maybe his condition was worse since he’d been closer to the fire for longer. Anxious to find him, she half-jogged toward the vehicle. When she rounded another cop car and squeezed between two officers, she finally saw him.
The head of his stretcher was inclined, so he saw her immediately. He sat forward as she approached, pulling the mask away from his face to talk.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” He reached out to take her hand. “How are you?”
“Safe and sound, despite sounding like an eighty-year-old that smokes two packs a day.” She tried to laugh it off, but it sounded less cute and more true.
“No. No. It’s sexy.”
“Old bingo lady voices are sexy? I gotta tell you, I don’t think I want to role-play that one.”
He laughed. “You sound like a smoky hotel lounge singer.”
“It could be the start of a whole new career for me. Forget that veterinarian nonsense.”
“That’s the spirit.”
It felt good to be joking with him, acting lighthearted. But they pawed each other, holding hands, gripping arms, like they were each other’s anchors. Like if they let go one of them might fall away.
“What are you even doing here?” she asked.
“I came to see you. To apologize for this afternoon at the office.”
She shook her head. Her silly insecurities all seemed so unimportant now. “It’s fine.”
“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“We’re okay.”
Piper watched a firefighter roll up a water hose. The metal nozzle smacked the glass door in passing and the pane shattered. She cringed.
“I’ll call the insurance company tonight,” Aiden said. “Get the ball rolling.”
“That would be great, thanks.” Piper shook her head. “There’s so much damage.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve had a lot of dealings with insurance companies through my investment properties. They won’t take long for a case like this.”
“Yeah, sure. So we renovate and repair the damage. Then what? If we don’t find this guy, he’ll just keep coming at us.”
She stared at the building, at the broken glass, at the smoke damage, and had a hard time imagining where they would begin. She wondered how Marilyn would have dealt with everything had she been there. Hell, if Marilyn was still in charge maybe none of it would have happened in the first place.
Maybe Piper could have done more to prevent it, something different. She remembered Aiden’s check. If she had cashed it, she could have gotten a security system right away instead of having to wait for the donations to roll in. Would the fire have happened at all? She felt sick at the thought that her refusal to accept help might have caused this.
Aiden brought a hand up to her cheek and turned her worried gaze toward him. He gave her an even stare. “Everything will be all right.”
“Wishful thinking.”
He opened his mouth to speak but then grimaced, like whatever he wanted to say caused him pain. He seemed to think a moment longer before asking her, “Do you trust me?”
She looked him in the eye and considered all he’d done for her so far, how he’d been there. After knowing him for only a couple of weeks, the answer surprised her. “Yes. I do.”
“Then everything will be okay.”
As overwhelmed as she was, deep down she knew it would be. No one, and no dog, was hurt. Except, of course, for the goldfish. Her heart hurt when she thought about their tragic end, but at least all the dogs survived.
“Okay. You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “Now, if only the guests could put themselves to bed.”
Aiden pushed the ambulance blanket aside and swung his legs over the stretcher. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”
She opened her mouth to say she would be fine, but he seemed to read her mind. Reaching out, he held her face in both of his hands, his eyebrows drawing together to form a stern line. “Piper. I’m not going anywhere.”
She bit her lip, battling her instincts to turn him down. If there was ever a time she should accept help, it was that night. “That would be great. Thanks.” But she couldn’t stop herself from adding, “I owe you one.”
Aiden focused over her shoulder at someone approaching. She turned to find a man, maybe in his late fifties, headed their way with a determined walk. He was in plainclothes—a pair of dark jeans and a tucked collared shirt under a light rain jacket.
There was going to be a lot of questions to answer. Some that she didn’t want to explore, moments she didn’t want to relive. She wanted to block it all out. To go shower, stuff Colin with treats, crawl into bed, and snuggle with Mr. Wiggles, the stuffed bear she hadn’t slept with since her father died. But something told her the night was far from over.
When the man got closer, he flashed a badge. “Inspector Samuels,” he said. “Are you Piper Summers?”
“Yes, I am.”
He tucked the badge away and replaced it with a notepad. “I hope you’re feeling up to answering a few questions.”
Did she have a choice?
“Are the dogs okay?” she asked.
“Yes. They’re all still in the courtyard.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to move them back into their kennels tonight if we don’t go into the front of the building?”
“Not possible, I’m afraid. Both myself and the fire inspector will need to do our independent investigations. It will be tomorrow at the earliest before it’s handed back to the building owner, who is, I believe”—he flipped a couple pages back in his notepad—“a Mr. Aiden Caldwell.”
“That’s me,” Aiden said.
“Oh.” Inspector Samuels’s bushy eyebrows twitched. “Well, that’s convenient. And rather unfortunate for you.”
“What happens when it’s released to him?” Piper asked.
“Well, then it’s the insurance company’s call. They’ll perform their own separate investigation. I suspect the damage is severe enough that health and safety will have to get involved. Then you’re looking at claims adjusters, contractors—” He started to count on his fingers, but Piper interrupted.
“How long? I mean, I can’t keep them cooped up out there forever.”
“A few days at least.”
“Right, the neighbors are going to love that.” Not that she cared at the moment.
“Is there nowhere else they can go?” the inspector asked.
“Why do you think they’re here?” Her shoulders slumped. “Need a pet dog?”
He chuckled. “No, I don’t. I bring my job home enough as it is. Sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” She shook her head. “I’ll figure something out.”
“You know, you’re very lucky you got out of there alive, not to mention all the dogs.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” she said. “I had help.” She glanced at Aiden, who squeezed her hand in return.
“About that,” the inspector said. “I’d like to ask the two of you some questions about what happened tonight. I’d like to interview you both separately.” He gestured to a quiet area on the sidewalk. “Piper, if I could start with you first.”
With an exasperated look at Aiden, Piper followed until they were out of earshot. She took a deep breath. Becoming all too familiar with the drill, she explained what happened. It all went down in probably less than ten minutes. Yet as she retold it, there was so much information to relay that it could have happened over the course of an hour or two.
Yes, she saw the guy start the fire. No, she didn’t see his face. She gave guesstimations about height and weight, but it had been dark, and it happened so fast. The only helpful thing she could recall that might identify him was that he’d have, she hoped, a large goose egg on his head and a nasty dachshund bite-mark anklet to match.
Piper watched the inspector scribble his notes onto his pad, serious and attentive. Two great bushy eyebrows with long strands of grey drew together or arched during her recounting, like a pair of thoughtful furry caterpillars crawling quizzically on his face. Already she had more confidence in Inspector Samuels than she did in Officer Sucker Tucker.
“So now that there’s a detective involved, does that mean an actual investigation is under way? Or are you going to tell me to hire a security guard too?”
“I’ve been briefed on this case already. I think that whoever is targeting this property isn’t going to stop.”
“Yeah. I’m starting to get that message.”
“Tonight, you interrupted him before he could finish his task. This could have been much worse.”
Piper remembered the second canister of fuel and grimaced. She thought of the dogs trapped in their kennels as the place burned down around them. “And there might still be a next time.”
He held up a hand. “Now, I’m not saying this to scare you. I’m trying to prepare you for the possibility.”
“You mean the eventuality.”
“We will do everything we can to find and stop whoever is doing this. But after tonight, it’s obvious that he’ll go to any lengths to get you out of this neighborhood, if that is his true motive. If we don’t catch him sooner rather than later…” He didn’t finish.
He didn’t need to.
They could raise funds, rebuild, add new locks, buy a new security system, but at the end of the day this guy was going to keep coming.
Her blanket had lost all of its toasty oven warmth and the soggy cold sank in, deep, like it had seeped into her bones. She thought she would never feel warm again. “Then our only option is to give him what he wants.”
“You don’t need to worry about all of this tonight,” Inspector Samuels said. “You’ve been through enough, and I realize you’ll need to discuss this with the property owner and business manager. In the meantime, we’ll be placing a patrol car outside to monitor the premises twenty-four hours a day for the next few days.”
“Do you think this guy will try something again? So soon?”
“Arsonists have a habit of coming back to see the results of their work. It’s common for them to even return while it’s still burning.”
Piper examined the crowd gathered outside the police tape, searching each face, wondering if the arsonist could be out there. Watching. Waiting to try something again. She shivered at the thought.
And to think, she’d been face-to-face with the slimeball, had been so close to seeing him. She might have been able to identify him, to put a stop to all this.
Suddenly, it occurred to her that while she didn’t see his face, he might have seen hers. In a way, she’d been there to thwart him both times, to undo what he did. He could have seen her on the news after the break-in, asking for donations. Maybe that’s why the car had tried to run her over in the alley during her date with Aiden. Maybe the guy wasn’t after both of them. Just her.
The inspector said the arsonist likely wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted. What if this guy saw Piper as the one standing in his way?