Turner looked good in the papers and good on the news. Annie spent most of her lunch struggling to look away from the breakroom television in the small hospital as the mayor finished up another press conference in reference to the latest bust Elliot’s Major Crimes unit had made that morning.
Daniel McKellen was in the background directing things, looking as tall, dark, and handsome as ever.
Just as attractive as the mayor, but her hands didn’t slick with nerves when Daniel looked at the screen. Her heart didn’t race when the camera panned in for a close-up on Daniel’s face like it did when Turner’s face filled the screen.
She was being a total doofus over that man.
And he wasn’t even in the same building.
One kiss on her front porch, and she hadn’t been able to forget the man. Even with all she had to do, to deal with right now.
Half her living room was in boxes.
And she had to explain—yet again—to three little boys what moving meant.
Two of the boxes had been “unpacked” by the time she got home the night before.
Josie just shrugged at her, a harried look on her pretty face, as she’d wiped Solomon’s face—removing something Annie couldn’t quite identify. Syrus was crying, wanting his mother to hold him.
Annie quickly obliged, swinging her youngest baby into her arms. “What’s going on?”
“World War Three, Gaines-style.” Her sister rolled her eyes then stood. “I got to get going. I have a date.”
“Nice. Who with?”
“Not telling—”
Pounding on the door interrupted. Annie and Josie stared at each other. This…people didn’t pound on their door for a lack of good reason. She passed Syrus back to her sister. “Take the kids into the kitchen.”
The room furthest from the door. From the threat.
Seemed her life had always been one of awareness of the threat. Of standing between the ones she loved and whatever was coming. The pounding came even harder. Annie hurried to the front door.
“Annie! Harley’s house is on fire. We need to get out of here. Now.” Her next-door neighbor from the house on the left—Gia, a woman a few years older than Annie—was in tears. Her six-month-old baby Isla fussed in her arms.
The neighborhood was cloaked in the scent of fire.
Annie looked at Harley’s house, the one directly on the left of Gia’s.
Flames shot out of the roof.
“I can’t call the fire department,” Gia hiccupped. “I had my phone shut off. I can’t pay the bill.”
Gia didn’t have a cell phone for the same reason. She’d borrowed Annie’s phone many times.
Annie looked toward the kitchen.
Josie was already on the phone; she nodded at Annie.
When she disconnected, she grabbed Syrus where he was fussing.
Annie made the decision immediately.
“We need to get out of here. Our houses are too close together. Josie, take the baby. Let’s go. Gia…”
“I’m taking my car and going to my sister’s in Wichita Falls. I…I’m going to stay with her until I can find a place to live. I just have a few things left to pack.”
“Go. And give me your sister’s number when you get settled.” Annie hugged the other woman quickly.
Then she grabbed her middle son and stepped outside.