Diana jolted awake as cold water splashed over her face, into her ears, and across the delicate skin of her neck. She opened her eyes to see Tyler Raines holding a large, empty Styrofoam cup and gazing down at her, his head tilted slightly to the right, a vertical wrinkle lodged between his dark eyebrows. They stared at each other until he finally asked, “You all right, Miss I-Have-Never-Fainted-in-My-Life?”
“I’m fine. Don’t you dare throw more water on me. And I haven’t fainted until now!” Diana realized she was lying flat on the ground, legs and arms splayed. She pulled together all four limbs and quickly sat up, wiping at her wet face. “Where’s Penny?”
“The ambulance just pulled away with her.”
Diana looked around in time to see the ambulance turning the corner. “I should have gone with her!”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Tyler grasped her hand, helping her clamber to a standing position. She pushed her long, dripping hair behind her ears and looked around frantically. “Have they found Willow?”
“No, but—”
“Oh my God!” Diana felt as if her chest was tightening, squeezing the air from her lungs. “They still haven’t found her?”
“If you’d stop yelling and let me finish, I was going to say you were out for only a couple of minutes.”
“You don’t think Willow is . . .” Diana gestured vaguely at the ruin of a house, unable to look at it, unable to say more.
Tyler hesitated. For a moment, Diana thought she saw him waver behind what seemed to be only a veil of self-possession. “I don’t know about the little girl,” he said finally. “The mother was outside—maybe the child was, too.”
“No, she’d just had surgery. She wouldn’t have been—”
“Don’t reject possibilities. We don’t know anything for sure. The firefighters haven’t had a chance to search everywhere. They’re still trying to help the guy who fell into the basement when the floor gave way. They can’t prop a ladder against that crumbling edge of the floor. I think they’re using ropes to bring him up.” Tyler reached out and touched Diana’s arm. “You don’t look so good. You need to go home.”
“Go home! I can’t go home until I know something about Willow. And if I were going anywhere, it would be to the hospital with Penny!”
“Settle down and get your breath,” Tyler said sternly. His gaze seemed to grasp hers and hold it unrelentingly. “Now you listen to me. It could be half an hour or longer before they find the child, and there’s not one damned thing you can do for Penny at the hospital besides sit and wait for them to tell you she’s in critical condition.”
Diana’s face crumpled and Tyler’s voice softened. “You’re exhausted, you’re frightened, and you’ve had a hell of a shock. You’ve already fainted. Unless you want to end up in the hospital, too, you’ll go home. You’re in no shape to hang around here and neither is Mrs. Hanson. Especially Mrs. Hanson. The fire burned a large hole in her roof and destroyed part of the kitchen and living room wall. Also, embers might be smoldering beneath some of the roofing and they could set another fire.”
“Oh, no,” Diana moaned.
“Oh, yes. That lady can’t stay in her house tonight. Does she have any place else to go?”
“I don’t know. I’ve barely met her.” She paused. “I live in Ritter Park,” she said, referring to the seventy-acre park stretching along the Southeast Area and up into the Southeast Hills of Huntington. “She could come home with me.”
“Ritter Park, eh? The ritzy neighborhood. I should have known.”
“The house belongs to my great-uncle,” Diana said irritably. “I don’t own it—I’m just a boarder for a while. Anyway, the house is large. There’s plenty of room for guests.”
“Fine. I know the area. Just direct me to the house.”
“Mr. Raines, I know how to drive.”
“I told you before that my name is Tyler, and I’m sure you’re usually a first-rate driver, but not tonight. Now let’s go tell Mrs. Hanson she’s having a sleepover with her new best friend.”
A few minutes later, they informed Mrs. Hanson that Penny was alive. “How badly hurt is she?” the woman asked. “She must have gotten burned.”
“We don’t know any details,” Tyler said quickly, then, before she could ask more questions, he told her she would be spending the night at Diana’s house. Mrs. Hanson widened her eyes and shook her head vehemently. “I can’t just desert my home. Someone could break in!”
Tyler spoke to her gently and patiently. “Mrs. Hanson, firefighters and probably the police will be here most of the night. You see, they haven’t found the little girl yet.”
Mrs. Hanson’s slender, thin-skinned hand flew to her throat in distress. “They haven’t found Willow? I just assumed . . .”
Mrs. Hanson seemed to drift away from them for a moment. Diana and Tyler exchanged looks over the woman’s head. She can’t bear this tragedy, Diana thought. Maybe she’s going to have a heart attack. Maybe we should take her to the hospital.
Abruptly, Mrs. Hanson interrupted Diana’s thoughts with a crisp voice. “I thought of this when both of you were at the house, then I forgot about it when you came back with news of my house burning. I remember now, though.” The woman took a breath, concentrating. “Earlier, I glanced outside and I’m almost certain I saw Willow climbing out of her bedroom window. Penny had left Willow’s bedside lamp on. That’s how I could see her room.”
“Willow climbed out of her window!” Diana was incredulous. “But she just had an operation.”
“I know, but Penny told me they were doing some procedure that didn’t cause as much pain as the old-fashioned surgery. It also enables people to heal faster. I guess Willow felt all right.”
“Where did she go?” Tyler asked urgently.
“She went toward the backyard. Penny has no outside lights, so I only saw Willow for a moment because she was walking very fast. Almost running. Maybe she was going toward the woods. On this street, the woods border all of our backyards. I went back to my chair—my phone is on a little table beside my favorite chair—and I was calling Penny to tell her about seeing Willow, when . . . when . . .”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears. When the house burst into a ball of fire, Diana thought. She reached out and patted Mrs. Hanson’s shoulder, frustrated that she couldn’t think of anything more comforting to do for the woman. “Don’t cry. It’s going to be all right.”
“How can you possible say that?” Mrs. Hanson demanded tearfully. “I could see them carrying someone—it must have been Penny—and putting her into the ambulance. Now you tell me they can’t find Willow! I may be old, but I’m not senile! I know everything isn’t going to be all right!”
Tyler bent down and looked steadily into the woman’s eyes. “You’re not old—you’re just older than us, but you’re right. We have been treating you like you’re senile. My grandmother would have thrashed the daylights out of me if I talked to her like she didn’t have good sense.”
Mrs. Hanson smiled slightly and Tyler went on. “I’ll just tell you straight. Things aren’t all right. Not by a long shot. Professionals are taking care of Penny, though, and after what you told us, I think Willow might be hiding in the woods. She’s probably afraid to come out, but I’d bet a hundred dollars she’s not hurt. If she was in the woods, she would have been too far away to get burned.
“You and Diana don’t seem to be faring too well, though,” Tyler went on. “You’re trembling all over and Diana can hardly get her breath, although she’s trying to hide it. That’s why you both need to get away from here. You need quiet and rest. I don’t think a stiff drink would do you two any harm, either.”
“Oh, I don’t drink,” Mrs. Hanson protested.
“Then start. One drink won’t turn you into an alcoholic. I’m going to drive you to Diana’s house.”
Mrs. Hanson looked aghast. “Oh, I couldn’t impose. I can go to my friend Ella’s. . . .” She trailed off. “Except that she’s in Vermont visiting her daughter. My son and daughter’s families met yesterday at Disneyworld for a vacation. Well, if someone will get my purse with my money in it, I can go to a motel.”
“Where you’d have none of the amenities of a home,” Diana said. “Come to my house. You need a comfortable night’s sleep, and after the shock of tonight, you shouldn’t be alone in some motel room.”
“I could just watch television. I can’t possibly sleep tonight.”
“You can rest,” Tyler stated. “I’ll drop you two ladies off and come back here. The minute I know anything about the little girl, I’ll call.”
Diana snapped, “I told you I can drive home.”
“We don’t need any more disasters tonight,” Tyler nearly snarled. “If you’re not going to think of your own safety, think of Mrs. Hanson’s. My nerves are steadier than yours at the moment. Now get in the car.”
Anger surged through Diana, but she knew Tyler was right. She felt herself nearly vibrating within. Her reactions and judgments no doubt suffered because of the shock, and only a selfish desire to prove herself capable would force her to insist on driving. Sighing, she got in the car without a word, wondering how Tyler Raines could remain so calm.
As they drove away from Penny’s house, Diana glanced over at him, his jaw clamped tight, his tanned skin ashy beneath smudges of soot. He looked in the rearview mirror, back at the ruins of Penny’s house, and Diana noticed his eyelids close for a moment, as if he couldn’t stand the sight. No, she realized, she was wrong about Tyler Raines’s uncanny composure. He might be putting on a good show for her and Mrs. Hanson, but he wasn’t as unaffected by the possible deaths as he pretended to be, even if he didn’t know Penny and Willow Conley.
Diana softened toward him a bit and asked, “Where are you from, Tyler?”
For a moment, he seemed startled. “Huh? Oh, New York. City, that is. I’m just down here visiting.”
“Oh, who?” Clarice Hanson asked. “That’s an impolite question, but I might know them.”
“Uh, the guy that owns Al’s Barbecue.”
“Albert Meeks?” Clarice asked in surprise. “Why, he’s older than I am!”
“He was a friend of my grandfather’s, really. Grandpa’s dead, but I still try to visit Al every so often. He seems to appreciate it. They used to go hunting together a couple of times a year. Al’s one fine hunter. When I was a kid, they’d let me tag along sometimes.”
Diana had known Al Meeks for years. Penny, Willow, and she often dined at his casual restaurant that served the best barbecued ribs in town. She frowned at Tyler’s description of him, however. “Al is a fine hunter?” Diana asked, her mistrust of Tyler rising again. “How could he be? Al’s been blind in his right eye for over thirty years.”
Tyler paused. He gave her a sidelong look that told her he knew she was trying to trip him up, poke a hole in his story. Then he said casually, “You don’t need good eyesight in both eyes if you use a scope on a rifle, Diana. I guess you don’t do much hunting.”
“No, as a matter of fact I don’t,” she answered. “I think unless you’re in need of food, hunting is just an excuse for killing.”
“It’s a sport,” Tyler parried.
“The sport of killing.”
Tyler turned his eyes away from the road and looked at her. “Think you’ve got things all figured out, don’t you? Even me.”
She stared grimly ahead. “Not quite yet,” Diana returned slowly. “But I will. You can be sure of that, Mr. Raines.”
“Uncle Simon? I’m home!”
A voice boomed from a room on their left. “Well, at last, thank God! I’ve been going crazy here this week without you and Penny. Which reminds me, she hasn’t called this evening to tell me about Willow’s condition and she promised—”
Simon Van Etton strode into the foyer and jerked to a halt, looking in surprise at the three bedraggled people standing in front of him. Clarice and Tyler both hovered at least two feet behind Diana, as if they expected a beating from the elaborate cane Simon carried mostly for show. His thick silver hair gleamed under the light of the chandelier, and he raised a white eyebrow. “Good lord, what’s happened?”
Without thought, Diana rushed to Simon and flung her arms around him, burying her face in the satin of his smoking jacket. For a moment, he seemed astonished and stood stiffly, then he encircled her waist with his arms. He touched his cheek to the top of her head and murmured into her thick hair, “Diana?”
“It’s Penny, Simon.” Diana suddenly felt as if her hold on Simon was the only thing keeping her on her feet. Her words poured forth in a torrent. “I’d just pulled up in front of Penny’s house earlier when it . . . it exploded!”
Simon Van Etton held Diana out from him and stared at her, for once speechless. His dark green eyes looked at her first with hesitation, then doubt, then alarm. He opened his mouth once and closed it. When he opened it the second time, he asked with an eerie softness, “The house exploded?” Diana nodded. “You’re certain it exploded?”
“Yes, Simon. For God’s sake, I wasn’t dreaming!”
“No, no of course you weren’t.” He hugged her again. “Penny? Willow?”
“I saw Penny.” Diana leaned back and looked at him. “She wasn’t conscious. She’s so badly burned I don’t think she’s going to live.”
The color washed from Simon’s face. “Penny is burned?”
“Oh, yes.” Diana wavered. “Her face—”
“Don’t describe it,” Simon ordered. “I do not want to hear it.” He can’t bear to hear it, Diana thought. “What about Willow?”
Diana had begun to shake. “They can’t even find her!”
Simon tightened his grip on Diana as Tyler said, “We think the child might be hiding in the woods behind the house, sir.”
Simon looked at him. “Who are you?” Simon swallowed. “Forgive my lack of manners. If I know you, young man, I’m sorry that I’m too astounded by this news to remember your name.”
“You don’t know me, sir. My name is Tyler Raines.” He put his arm around Mrs. Hanson’s shoulder and pushed the woman gently forward. “And this is Mrs. Clarice Hanson. She lives beside Penny.”
Diana saw Simon try to smile reassuringly at the woman whose gaze was taking in the glistening Georgian chandelier shining down on a large circular Oriental rug and the eight-foot-tall antique grandfather clock in the corner. She looked ready to bolt out through the massive, carved double doors. “Of course, Mrs. Hanson. We met briefly at Willow’s birthday party in June, but there were so many children around, I didn’t get a chance to talk with you,” Simon said graciously.
Clarice finally glanced at him and tried to smile, but tears overcame her.
Simon looked at Tyler. “Mr. Raines, you seem to be the calmest person here. Will you tell me what happened?”
Tyler told him quickly, not elaborating, not going off on tangents, just concisely, as Simon liked. When he finished, Tyler added, “Mrs. Hanson can’t stay in her own home tonight. Your niece said she would be welcomed here.”
“Mrs. Hanson is most welcome,” Simon said. If Diana hadn’t known Simon so well, she wouldn’t have noticed the forced steadiness of his voice. He was trying mightily not to betray his horror. In spite of everything, his sharp eyes had even taken in the woman’s infirmity. “Mrs. Hanson, we have a nice bedroom here on the first floor. Diana said it looked as if no one had touched it since the Middle Ages, and she redecorated it last year. It has an adjoining bathroom and a good view of the garden. I think you’ll be comfortable there.”
“Oh, it sounds lovely,” Mrs. Hanson said, clearly intimidated by the size and formality of the house, “but I really hate to force myself on you.”
“You are certainly not forcing yourself on me or Diana.” Simon managed a reassuring smile for the woman. “I suggest we all go into the library and have some brandy. This has been quite a shock.”
“Thanks, sir, but I’m going back,” Tyler said. “They haven’t found the little girl.”
Simon looked at him piercingly. “And you think you can when no one else can?”
“I’d like to try.” Tyler’s voice was somewhat humble yet at the same time firm.
Diana pulled away from Simon and faced Tyler. “I’m going with you.”
“No, you aren’t,” Tyler said with authority. “You have to pull your nerves together.”
“My nerves are just fine,” Diana argued, although she knew she sounded far from convincing. “If Willow is hiding in the woods, I’d have a better chance of finding her than you. She knows me.”
Tyler tilted his head slightly, as if trying to make her see reason without offending her. “Even if you don’t realize it, you’re an emotional and physical wreck. I’m sure your uncle would agree that you need to stay here.”
“Indeed I do,” Simon agreed, his voice brooking no argument. “Diana, Mr. Raines is correct. You will stay here with Mrs. Hanson and me.”
“Oh, men!” Diana exclaimed, suddenly acting furious to hide the fact that what she really wanted was to sink to the floor and cry. “You all stick together.”
“When we’re making more sense than the womenfolk, we certainly do.”
“Womenfolk!” Diana spluttered. “Uncle Simon, I have never heard you sound like—”
“Like what?” Simon’s commanding voice and sharp green gaze deflated an exhausted Diana.
“Like you just did,” she answered meekly.
“We drove here in Diana’s car,” Tyler intervened. “Mine is back at . . . the scene. I’ll call a taxi.”
Simon made a face. “Oh, nonsense. It will take forever for a cab to arrive on a Friday night. This city is disgracefully short of taxicabs. I have two cars and I’m not going to be using either one tonight. Take one of them.” Diana looked at him in disbelief. Was her great-uncle turning over one of his cars to this complete stranger? Apparently so.
“We’ll worry about getting the car back here tomorrow,” Simon continued, not even glancing at Diana. “Frankly, at the moment I couldn’t care less if I ever get it back.”
“I appreciate the loan,” Tyler said, “and I’ll make sure you get the car back safe and sound.”
“I’m sure you will.” Simon gave Tyler a long, measuring look. “And I have an odd feeling you will return Willow safe and sound, too.”
Tyler Raines gaped when Simon Van Etton turned on the garage lights. A slightly dirty SUV dominated the middle of the three-car garage, but beside it sat a gleaming black Porsche. Simon, obviously watching Tyler’s gaze lock on to the Porsche, managed a wry smile. “I bought that last year. Diana had a fit. She said I was going to kill myself. I replied, ‘At my age, it doesn’t matter, and if I do kill myself, at least I’ll go out in style.’ ”
Tyler grinned. “I can see why you couldn’t resist it. It’s a beautiful car, Dr. Van Etton.”
“Take either car you want, Tyler.”
“The SUV would be the most practical.”
“I suppose it would, although I know you’d like to take a spin in the Porsche.” Simon walked about a foot away from the door and looked at a Peg-Board holding sets of keys. “Here are the keys to the behemoth over there. We’ll save the Porsche for another time.”
Tyler hesitated then said reluctantly, “That would be great, but I don’t live here, Dr. Van Etton. Like I said, I just happened to turn onto that street when I saw the house blow up.”
“So you actually saw the house explode?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What do you think happened, Tyler?”
“I have no idea.” Tyler looked into Simon Van Etton’s keen, dark green eyes. “It could have been faulty wiring or a piece of defective household equipment.”
Simon stared at him for a moment. “I can tell you’re going to stick with that story, whether or not you believe it.” He sighed. “Well, thank God you were there. Diana is a strong woman. Still, anyone can take only so much. And poor Mrs. Hanson—I don’t even like to think of what could have happened to her. She looks frail enough to snap in two.” The older man put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “I want to thank you for taking care of Diana. She’s the dearest person in my life. You also did a very brave thing, running in the house to get Mrs. Hanson.”
“Anybody would have done the same.”
“Hell, no, they wouldn’t, and you know it.” Simon paused, frowning. “Is Penny as bad as Diana said?”
“I didn’t see her entire body—just her face. I’ll be blunt: One side was hideously burned.”
Color drained from the older man’s complexion and he stiffened, as if marshalling all of his strength.
“The paramedics, especially one of them, looked as if there wasn’t much hope,” Tyler ended bleakly.
“Well, they might not believe there is, but I choose to believe there’s always hope, and Penny is a strong girl, just like Diana. Also, they can work miracles with plastic surgery these days. Penny will live and she will be lovely again. I’m absolutely sure of it.” Simon’s volume swelled, as though if he said the words loudly enough, they would come true. He handed the keys to Tyler. “Now go find that little girl.”
“I can guarantee I’ll return the car, sir, but I can’t guarantee I’ll find Willow.”
“But you’ll do your best,” Simon said earnestly. “That’s all anyone can do.”
Smoke. Burned wood. Wet ground.
Willow Conley kept her eyes tightly shut. She didn’t have to see, but she did have to breathe. She tried taking only little breaths, keeping the smells out of her nose, but they were all around her, too much for her to conquer.
She sighed and scooted closer to a big tree trunk—a tree far back in the woods where she wasn’t allowed to go. The tree limbs above her had begun to sway in the wind, and the leaves whispered to one another. Willow didn’t usually pay any attention to leaves blowing, but tonight their murmurs added to her fright. She pulled up her knees and tried to bury her face in the clean smell of her pink cotton pajama legs, but scrunching up made the right side of her tummy hurt. Besides, her pink pajamas were dirty and they didn’t smell clean and fresh anymore, not like they had when Mommy had put them on her. . . .
How long ago? Minutes? Hours? Willow knew only it was still night. Up high, the moon and the stars looked cool and peaceful, just like they had when she’d climbed out her window. If she stared only at them, she could pretend nothing bad had happened. But if she looked at the ugly place where her and Mommy’s house had been . . .
Willow cringed and shut her eyes tight. Still, behind her eyelids danced the red and yellow flames, the pieces of burning wood shooting in all directions, poor Mommy flying off the bottom step of the porch and landing in the swimming pool. . . .
The pool that could not keep her safe from the fire that swept over her limp body, chewed at her hair, and danced on her face. Mommy’s beautiful, laughing face—a face that Willow somehow knew would never laugh again.
Pain jabbed at Willow’s chest—a pain that had nothing to do with her operation. Her heart must have broken, she decided, holding her breath as the pain stabbed again. She wondered how long it took a broken heart to stop hurting. Probably forever and ever.
Earlier, when the fire had captured Mommy, Willow had taken a couple of steps back into the woods. Shortly afterward, sirens wailed and swirling red and blue lights slashed the night. Then Willow had heard men yelling before huge arcs of water fell on the blazing house. The fire, the lights, the miniature waterfalls should all have been dazzling and exciting in the quiet of the night—like fireworks on the Fourth of July—but Willow had found none of it either dazzling or exciting. This wasn’t the Fourth of July, and she knew all the color and the noise meant disaster.
Finally the flames got smaller and smaller until they were gone, leaving behind smoke and sharp smells. She’d seen people bending over her mother lying in the pool. They shook their heads. Then carefully, oh so carefully, they had lifted her, put her on a narrow bed on wheels, and taken her away.
Later, people with big flashlights walked around the backyard. They headed for the woods shouting, “Willow! Willow! Come out now, honey! Willow!” That’s when Willow began retreating deeper into the shelter of the trees because she knew the people wanted to take her away. They wanted to make her walk past the little rubber pool where the fire had claimed Mommy, past her home, where she’d felt safer than in any other place in the world—the place that was now just a scary, smoky shell that didn’t look anything like her and Mommy’s dear little house. Willow knew what they wanted, and she couldn’t bear to go. She wouldn’t go, and they couldn’t make her if they couldn’t find her!
Deeper into the woods she moved. Mommy had said there might be bad things in the woods—snakes, maybe even a wolf. She did have the feeling that she wasn’t alone—a twig snapped close by, and Willow thought that she heard movement in the tangle of weeds and creeping vines beneath the trees. Maybe it was a wolf or a poison snake. She didn’t care about wolves and snakes after what she’d just seen, though. Willow almost hoped a poison snake would bite her or a wolf would eat her.
It didn’t matter because now only Diana and Uncle Simon would miss her, and they’d probably soon forget her because she wasn’t their real family. Besides, she didn’t want to live if Mommy wasn’t with her. Being a little girl wouldn’t be any fun without Mommy—Mommy who sometimes raised her voice if Willow did something wrong, but who mostly laughed, played Candyland whenever she had time, and sometimes at night let Willow wear lipstick and dress up like she was a grown-up girl. But what Willow loved most was when Mommy put on music and danced like an angel, her feet barely touching the floor and her eyes looking as if she saw some beautiful, magic, faraway land.
Tears stung Willow’s eyes, inflamed and hurting from all the smoke. She didn’t want to start crying. She didn’t want to make a noise. Otherwise, all those people with their yelling and their bright flashlights would find her. She would be happy if she could just stay here forever; except that forever was a long time, and she already felt loneliness descending on her like a dark, cold cloud.
Willow lay her head against the trunk of the tree. It seemed like the shouting had grown softer and the lights were moving in a different direction. The people in uniforms—the people who had taken Mommy and wanted to take her, too—were finally going away. Willow rubbed her head against the rough tree trunk, searching for a comfortable spot. Maybe she could just go to sleep and no one would find her for days or even years.
She’d grown drowsy when she first heard the man’s voice. It was a nice voice, deep and soft and soothing, not loud and piercing like the other voices had been, yelling out her name so harshly they frightened even the night birds into flight. No, this voice sounded kind and warm. This voice sounded safe. And to top it off, the man was saying a rhyme—a happy, pretty rhyme. Willow cocked her head and listened:
If I could capture that fat white moon
I’d drag it down to earth so soon,
I’d tie it up in a pink satin bow
And give it to my pretty Willow.
If I could capture that fat white moon
I’d drag it down to earth so soon. . . .
Suddenly the man stood in front of her. He looked like a giant, so tall and straight. For a moment, Willow felt overwhelming fear. Then he stooped in front of her and, even in the moonlight, she could see his blondish hair and his bright blue eyes. He smiled at her—such a nice smile—and said very softly, “Willow.”
Tremulously she held out her carefully tended jar of sparkle bugs. He took it, studied the bugs twinkling and winking, and he smiled his nice smile at her again. Finally he set down the jar and held out his arms.
Willow gazed back for moment. Then she ran her tongue over her dry lips and said just above a whisper, “It’s you!”