The lights from the oncoming pickup seemed abnormally bright through the driving snow, making him squint and tilt his face. His fingers yanked at the steering wheel, and then he pounded on it. The car began to slide on the icy road, and he grabbed the wheel again, regaining traction. What had just happened?
He’d lost control before, but never like this. Never where he couldn’t remember anything. Had he actually tried to kill her? The rage that had been burning inside him for months had been chilled by the realization that he’d actually attempted to burn her—his soul mate— to death.
Air hissed between his teeth. Why had he done that? Why? He needed her.
Things were spinning out of control—he was spinning out of control. It was time to take her, whether she was ready to go or not.
* * *
Although she’d braced herself for the worst during the hair-raising drive back from the hospital, the reality was even uglier than she could’ve imagined. Floodlights mounted on a rescue truck illuminated the scene, and Lou almost wished for darkness so she didn’t have to see the pathetic remains of her little cabin. She wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself through Callum’s heavy coat as she surveyed the destruction of everything she owned. Even her truck was only a blackened skeleton.
The site was a mess of churned-up mud, half hidden by a fresh layer of still-falling snow. The tender truck was linked by hoses to the pump truck, supplying water to the firemen who were still mopping up, soaking the charred remains of her home to make sure no smoldering embers remained. Icicles had formed where water leaked out of the hose connections, and vapor from the firefighters’ breath merged with the lingering smoke.
The smell was horrible, and Lou wondered if part of that was from her truck. It was a good thing she hadn’t wasted money on those ten-ply tires. She choked back a laugh that threatened to turn into a sob. Standing silently next to her, wearing an extra coat he kept in his truck, Callum rested the heavy and comforting weight of his arm across her shoulders. She sighed, leaning into him as tiredness sank deep into her bones and her feet went numb in the boots one of the nurses had grabbed from the hospital’s lost and found for her.
“Lou.” The gravelly voice of the fire chief brought her head around.
She attempted a smile of greeting but failed miserably. “Hey, Chief.” Talking didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier, although she sounded like a three-pack-a-day smoker.
Pushing up the face shield to the top of his helmet, the chief sighed. In the harsh artificial lights, the lines on his face were more pronounced, and his nose and cheeks were blotchy red with cold. Normally, Winston Early was a cheerful guy, quick to smile, but tonight he looked almost as weary as she was. “I’m so sorry, Lou. By the time we got here and Cal got you out, it was pretty much already gone. Even with this snow, the wood-frame construction, especially as old as your place was, went up in minutes.”
Trying to control her wobbling chin, she nodded. “I figured not much would be left.”
“Lou.” Rob joined their small group. “You okay?”
With a small shrug, she bit her cheek to keep from crying as she shifted her weight. “We both checked out okay. Except for some smoke inhalation, I’m fine. It’s just things that burned. All my things, but still.”
Callum rubbed her upper arm in silent support.
“Did you find the guy I told you about? The one who kicked me back into the house?” she asked, looking back and forth between the fire chief and the sheriff. She’d called the sheriff on the way to the hospital to tell him about the would-be killer.
“Not yet,” Rob said, exchanging a glance with Early.
“Did anyone see him leaving?” she pushed, not liking the look passing between the two men. “Were there any footprints or witnesses or…I don’t know, any evidence to tell us who he is? Ruining my tires is one thing, but he tried to kill me tonight!”
Cal’s fingers tightened around her upper arm, his body vibrating with tension next to hers.
“Lou,” Rob said in a calm voice. “We’ll find him. Did you remember anything else besides the SCBA mask and his black clothing? Height? Build?”
“He looked really tall, but my vantage point was off, since I was on my knees,” she said, feeling guilty for not noticing any details. Pressing the heels of her hands into her still-stinging eyes, she tried to bring up the mental picture. “An average build, maybe on the thin side? Sorry I’m not being more help. My eyes were watering from the smoke and the heat, plus that whisky messed me up.”
“Whisky? You’d been drinking?” Rob exchanged another look with Early, and Lou mentally cursed herself for bringing up the alcohol.
“One drink. There was something wrong with that whisky, though. I told them about it at the hospital, so they drew some of my blood to test.”
Rob’s gaze sharpened. “You think it was drugged?”
“Yes.”
After scribbling something in his small notebook, Rob flipped it shut and dropped it in his pocket. “We’ll be able to tell you more after we take a look tomorrow during daylight.” The sheriff’s tone had a ring of finality to it. “I’m the fire marshal for Field County, so I’ll be heading up the investigation. I promise you that we will find whoever did this. Now go get some rest.”
Although Lou set her chin stubbornly, she knew she wouldn’t get any answers until the following day. She held back her multitude of questions and just said, “Thank you, Rob.”
“Of course, Lou. I’m just sorry you have to go through this.” He shot a quick glance at Callum and then looked at Lou again. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
Lou opened her mouth to answer, but Callum beat her to it with a short but definite “Yes.”
“Good. Go home and get some sleep, if you can. Nothing more you can do here except get cold. Colder,” the sheriff amended, his sharp eyes on her huddled posture.
With a final glance around at the destruction of her hard-won but cozy life, she gave a defeated nod and let Callum steer her down her driveway. They’d parked the truck almost at the road, since emergency vehicles lined her driveway. As they passed one of Fire’s rescue trucks, Lou saw a familiar face and stopped.
“Ian,” she called, and the firefighter turned from where he was reloading equipment.
“Hey, Lou, Callum,” he said, walking over to them. “You two okay?”
“Yes.” She had a feeling she was going to be getting that question a lot over the next few days and weeks. “Thank you for your help.”
With a shrug, he said, “Least I could do for two of ours. I’m still pissed at Cook for running into a burning building in his fucking baseball cap and BDUs, but he got you out of there, and you’re both okay. I’m just sorry we couldn’t save your place.”
“Nothing you could’ve done,” Callum said, and Lou nodded.
Ian rubbed the back of his neck. “Still sucks.”
With a choked laugh, Lou said, “That it does. Thanks again, though.”
He gave another nod and headed back to the truck.
Leaning against Callum as she watched him walk away, Lou said, “I really think we should tell him the sheriff’s office thinks his club was involved in HDG’s murder.”
He gave the back of her neck a gentle squeeze before urging her to start walking again. “Tonight’s not the best time to make decisions.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She sighed as she trundled through the snow toward Callum’s pickup. The drifts looked almost blue in the moonlight. Tipping her head back, she stared at the clearing sky, letting Callum guide her steps.
“One good thing,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“It stopped snowing.”
“Yeah.” He tucked her closer against his side. “That is good.”