The piercing sound of the fire alarm jerked Claire Holiday from her dreams. She stumbled out of bed automatically, almost tripping over a desk chair in the dark. She had to get to Owen. She fought to clear her mind. No. Her son wasn’t here. He was safe with her mother.
She hurried across the unfamiliar room of the bed-and-breakfast and headed for the door. A hint of smoke tinged the air, but chances were that someone had gone down to the kitchen for a snack, burned something and set off the alarm. Still, she of all people knew how fast a fire could spread. In thirty seconds, a small flame could quickly become a major blaze. In just a few short minutes, a house could be filled with smoke and engulfed in flames. And instead of lighting the way, fires produced thick black smoke that could not only leave you blinded to where to go, but could kill you with toxic gases.
She took in a breath and choked. The second-floor room was starting to fill with smoke. Any lingering brain fog from being asleep vanished in an instant. This was no small kitchen fire. She needed to get out.
She touched the doorknob to make sure it wasn’t hot, then turned the handle.
It moved, but the door wouldn’t budge.
How was that possible?
She tugged on the handle again, but the door still wouldn’t open. Her mind worked to solve the problem as she pounded on the door, shelving any panic that threatened to erupt. Someone would hear her. There were three other rooms on this floor of the B&B, and at least one of them was occupied.
“Help! Someone...please.”
She drew in another breath and her lungs filled with more smoke. With her eyes now adjusted to the darkness, she ran back to the bed and dragged one of the blankets onto the floor, then shoved it against the bottom of the door in order to slow down the smoke seeping into the room.
Her mind worked quickly for a solution. If she couldn’t get out through the door, she’d climb through the window and onto the roof. Her fingers worked to unlock the window overlooking the south lawns of the large house, but she couldn’t open it. She’d checked it out of habit when she first arrived. Hadn’t she?
She needed her phone. She’d plugged it in to charge, which meant she’d left it on the bedside table. A second later, she scooped it up and called 911 as smoke continued to slowly creep in. She grabbed a washcloth that had been left for her, dipped it into the cup of water next to the bed and pressed the wet material to her face. That would at least slow down the effects of the smoke.
“Nine-one-one, what is the location of your emergency?” a woman asked her.
“This is Claire Holiday,” she said, pulling the washcloth from her mouth. “I’m staying at the Timber Falls Bed and Breakfast. The house is on fire, and I’m trapped in my room.”
“You’re trapped in your room, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“We have the fire department on the way right now, but you need to try to get out of the room. Have you tried the door?”
“I’ve tried the door and the window. I don’t know why, but they’re both locked or jammed.”
“I know this is frightening, but I need you to stay calm. Stay on the line and tell me exactly where you are in the house.”
“I’m on the second floor.” She felt her voice crack. She could see Owen grinning up at her, telling her to hold on, to keep fighting. She had to find a way out for his sake. She grabbed an iron candlestick off a shelf and started banging on the lock on the window, but it still wouldn’t open. Smashing the glass wasn’t safe. It would leave shards, and with the bars in place on the outside of the frame, it wasn’t an escape option anyway. She needed to open it.
“Ma’am...are you still there?”
The smoke was getting worse in the room and her lungs were starting to burn.
“Yes... I’m here.”
“What room are you in?”
“The second door on the...the north side of the house. Upstairs.” She stared out the window and felt her heart pound inside her chest. “I can see flames engulfing the main structure of the house, and the fire is spreading quickly. How long until the fire department arrives?”
“I was just told they are ninety seconds out.”
She frowned. It was taking too long, and she knew there were at least four other people in the house.
“There are other people staying here. Advise the local hospital to be ready and have paramedics here.”
“Ma’am...we’ll worry about coordinating help. My concern is to get you out of there safely. I’d like you to go try the door again.”
Claire squeezed her eyes shut. “I told you it’s locked somehow. It won’t open.”
“I understand, but I’d like you to try again. It’s easy to panic in a situation like this—”
“I’m not panicking. It’s jammed.”
The woman was placating her, and yet Claire knew she was right. There was no reason for the door to be locked.
She obeyed the order and tried it again, but it still wouldn’t budge.
“You said the window’s jammed, as well?”
“Jammed...stuck...yes.”
She wasn’t sure anymore, which had to sound ridiculous. It sounded ridiculous to her too, made her want to question her state of mind. Why wouldn’t it open? She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the wet cloth against her face. A wave of dizziness swept through her. Was it from the smoke, or was something else at play here? She’d considered taking a couple of over-the-counter sleeping pills last night, just to ensure she got a good night’s sleep. She’d been extra tired lately due to long hours, but no...she hadn’t taken them, deciding that, for one, she was so tired she probably wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping, and two, she didn’t want to risk being foggy headed in the morning.
There was one other option. Could this somehow be connected to the string of arson fires she’d been investigating? Was that even possible?
She’d come to Timber Falls hunting an arsonist who’d been terrorizing the state for the past eighteen months, starting nine fires, killing two people and causing over four million dollars in damages. Authorities believed that there was a connection to a recent fire here in Timber Falls, and it was her job to find the arsonist before someone else got hurt. But was this fire connected or just a coincidence?
No. She walked back to the window. She didn’t believe in coincidences. And she refused to be the third victim.
She could hear the sirens in the distance, wailing as they came down the narrow gravel road toward the house.
“I can hear the firetruck.”
“Good. They should be there in less than a minute.”
Claire’s lungs burned as she flipped on her phone’s flashlight and shone it around the room, worried there wasn’t going to be enough time to get her out of this locked box.
“Claire... I want you to get down on the ground and lay still until we can get someone to the room. It will help protect you from the smoke you’re breathing. Can you do that?”
“I am, but please...please hurry and get someone up here quickly.”
She dropped down to the ground, still struggling to believe this was really happening. She always made an exit plan in every hotel she stayed in, every building she walked into. She taught people how to make a home fire escape plan so something like this didn’t happen. She educated people to install smoke alarms, to ensure all doors and windows opened easily for a quick escape and to set meeting places for families in the event of a house fire.
The gases oozing through the cracks around the door were more dangerous than the fire. At first they disoriented you, then they made you sleepy. Carbon monoxide and hydrogen cyanide were silent killers. CO bonded with red blood cells, blocking them from carrying oxygen through the body, which was like suffocating from the inside out. Symptoms began within seconds. In the right circumstances, a person could be dead in a matter of minutes.
And now it was happening to her.
Owen... I’m so, so sorry, baby...
Her fingers pressed the cloth against her mouth as she lay on the floor. Was this what it was like to die in a fire? The initial fear morphing into panic when you realized there was no escape. Heat from the fire pressing in around you. Fighting for air. Fighting for every breath. She was starting to feel disoriented. Before long, she wouldn’t be able to get up or keep her eyes open. How much time had passed? Four...maybe five minutes. It seemed like an eternity.
All she knew was that she didn’t have much time left. One...maybe two minutes until the smoke completely engulfed her.
“Claire...” The 911 operator’s voice pulled her back in. “Claire, can you hear me?”
“Yeah... I can hear you.”
“You’re going to be okay. Help is almost there.”
She closed her eyes. Fifteen minutes of smoke with no oxygen would kill you. Five or ten minutes could cause brain damage. Her mother had never liked her career choice. People, no doubt, would find it interesting that the woman who died had been the investigator who’d come to Timber Falls to examine the latest fire presumed to be connected to the Rocky Mountain Arsonist, as they were calling him. But this wasn’t how she was supposed to die. She was supposed to be the one who stopped things like this from happening.
She could hear the sound of wood splintering as the door broke away from the frame. Someone was here, rushing into the room. She tried to move, but felt frozen. She needed to call her mom, let her know she was sorry.
Someone shouted. If only she didn’t feel so tired.
“Ma’am...”
Someone was in the room, talking to her.
“You’re going to be okay. Just hang in there. I’ve got you now, and I’m going to get you out of here.”
Reid O’Callaghan carried the woman out into the chilly December air, then laid her gently on a gurney in the semi-darkness. “She was trapped in a room on the second floor and is suffering from smoke inhalation.”
“I’m fine.” The woman fought to sit up. “I need to go check on—”
“No.” Reid put his hands on her shoulders. “You need to lie still and let them treat you.”
She fought against him, still trying to sit up. “There were other people in the house.”
“Everyone is out safe and accounted for. You were the last one.” Reid hesitated as familiar eyes stared back at him. “Wait a minute... Claire?”
A deluge of memories surfaced. Claire Holiday had been his first love, and the one woman he’d never been able to forget. What was she doing back in Timber Falls?
She looked up at him, clearly just as surprised to see him. “Reid... I—”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came for a job,” she said, her voice raspy from the smoke.
“It’s a pretty small town. If you were hoping to avoid me, this probably wasn’t the way.”
“You’re a fireman.”
“You forgot?”
“Of course not.”
It was how they first met—training together in Denver.
“And you saved my life,” she said.
But Claire Holiday wasn’t a place he wanted to go. He’d broken off their relationship years ago. She’d been ready to settle down with him, but instead of asking her to marry him like he should have, he’d got cold feet and ran. When he eventually realized he’d made the wrong decision, it had been too late. She’d refused to take his calls or answer his texts, but it hadn’t mattered in the end.
He’d never seen her again.
Until now.
“Reid, I—”
The paramedic laid her hand on Claire’s arm. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be talking right now, and I need to get you hooked up to some oxygen. We’ll get you to a hospital and checked out by a doctor, and then the two of you can catch up.”
Claire nodded, finally lying back on the gurney without a fight.
“We’re ready to go.”
“Reid—”
He laid his hand on her shoulder. “You’re not supposed to talk.”
“Just one more thing. Thank you. For risking your life for me. The door was jammed and maybe the window, as well.”
“Jammed...” He held up his hand to the paramedic, signaling for her to give them a moment. “What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t get out.”
“How is that possible?”
“I don’t know.”
“It would be normal to panic and miss something—”
“I didn’t miss something. I was scared, but I never panicked.”
His mind shifted back to the moment he’d tried to open the door to the room. He’d been told by the 911 operator that there was a woman trapped, but he’d assumed whoever was in there had simply panicked. He knew Claire, and she was right. She wouldn’t have let the fire unnerve her. And the door...he’d had trouble opening it, which was why he’d ended up breaking it down.
Had it somehow really been jammed?
“Let them take care of you,” he said. “I’ll stop by the hospital and make sure you’re okay. We can talk more about this then.”
He stepped back from the ambulance, instantly regretting his words. What had he been thinking, telling her that he was going to visit her? He had nothing to say to her.
Captain Ryder walked up to him and squeezed his shoulder as the ambulance drove away. “Well done in there, Reid.”
“Thanks.”
“You saved that woman’s life.”
“All in a day’s work.”
The captain took a step backward. “Are you okay, man? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine. I just... I know her.”
Knew her. Once, a long time ago.
“Claire Holiday?”
Reid nodded. “Yeah.”
“She’s here to investigate the fire out at the Reynolds farm and determine if it’s connected with the Rocky Mountain Arsonist fires. At least she’s okay.”
Reid frowned. There had to be a connection here. She was investigating a string of arsons and now she’d come close to dying in a fire?
“Something’s off,” Reid said. “I need to go back and look inside the house. She told me the door was jammed, and she couldn’t get out.”
“Apparently, she told the 911 operator that, as well. Did she imply there was something deliberate about this fire?”
“No,” Reid said, “but I’d like to look around.”
“You always have had good intuition, Reid, but while the fire’s finally out, no one’s going in there right now. We’ll do a full investigation, and in the meantime, why don’t you go back into town and check the 911 records of her conversation. Maybe you’ll find something there in what she said.”
It might have been a long time since he last saw her, but he knew Claire couldn’t have changed that much. She’d always been the toughest person he’d ever known. She’d chosen a field that was difficult for men, and even harder for women. Requirements were the same no matter who you were. Lifting heavy equipment, climbing huge ladders and working long shifts, you had to be strong. Strong enough to keep up both physically and emotionally. And yet Claire had excelled, despite the fact that there were few women in her field. The road hadn’t always been easy, but her determinedness—and stubbornness—had pushed her toward the top. He wasn’t surprised at all she was now an investigator. That was what she’d always wanted.
But something was definitely wrong.
It was dark when he strode into the sheriff’s office where his brother Griffin was on duty at the front desk at half past five.
“Hey...” Griffin got up out of his chair to greet his brother. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until dinner tonight at the ranch. Something wrong?”
“It is, actually. You heard about the fire at the B&B?”
“I did. Sounds like the damage is pretty severe, though I was told no one was hurt except for one guest who was trapped in her room and suffered from smoke inhalation.”
Reid leaned against the front counter. “That someone was Claire Holiday.”
Griffin’s eyes widened. “Your Claire Holiday?”
“She’s not my Claire, but yes.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yes, but it could have been a lot worse.”
“What’s she doing here?”
“Apparently there are some who believe that the fire at the Reynolds farm might be connected to the Rocky Mountain Arsonist.”
“So an arson investigator comes to town and is trapped in a fire?” Griffin frowned. “I’m sorry, but that sounds extremely off to me.”
“Yes, it does. I heard they think it might have been started by an electrical fire, but why couldn’t she get out? It doesn’t make sense. According to her, she was trapped in the room. I know Claire, or at least I used to, and she’s not the kind of person to panic in a situation like that. She’s trained to know exactly what to do. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“That does seem to be a pretty odd coincidence. Have you talked to her at all?”
“I’m the one who pulled her out of the fire.”
“But have you talked to her?”
“Not really. Just to make sure she was okay.”
“I know this has to be awkward for the two of you, but you’re probably going to be working with her.”
“She’ll be working with the captain. Not me.”
At least that was his plan.
“I always liked her—”
“Don’t even go there.” Reid pushed down the rising irritation, knowing exactly where his brother’s train of thought was heading. “Just because I’m the last of the O’Callaghan brothers to either be married or engaged, doesn’t mean that’s going to change.”
“That’s not what you thought a few years ago.”
Reid shoved his hands into his front pockets. “We were different people back then, and I’ll be the first to admit that I made a lot of mistakes. I tried to make things right after breaking up with her. She’s the one who never responded.”
His mother would have called him the prodigal son. She’d told him once that she’d prayed night after night that he’d get his life together, hoping God was working even when she couldn’t see it.
Eventually he’d done just that, and never turned back.
“To be fair, you did break up with her,” Griffin said.
“I think it’s time to drop the subject.”
But it was a subject that was hard to forget.
They’d spent their day off skiing in Loveland, then had driven down to Silverthorne where he’d planned a romantic evening at a cozy restaurant. But instead their perfect day had ended in a fight and subsequent break up. Maybe he should have seen it coming. She’d been hinting for weeks that she wanted more out of their relationship. That it was time for them to talk about settling down and getting married. But as much as he’d loved her, back then marriage had terrified him. He just wasn’t ready. So instead, he’d panicked and lost her.
“I stopped by because I need your help with something,” Reid said, pulling his thoughts out of the past. “I need to listen to the 911 recording of her call.”
“That can be arranged. What are you looking for?”
“I’m not sure. I’m hoping I know when I hear it.”
A minute later, Griffin had the audio of the call set up at an empty desk. Reid listened to the entire recording, then listened to it a second time.
Ma’am... I’d like you to go try the door again.
I told you it’s locked somehow. It won’t open.
I understand, but I’d like you to try again. It’s easy to panic in a situation like this—
I’m not panicking. It’s jammed.
“I don’t know.” Reid pulled off the headset he’d been wearing, then turned back to his brother. “Something isn’t adding up. Claire insists that her door was jammed, as well as the window, and that she couldn’t get out. Normally, I’d say it was panic, but she’s trained as a firefighter, Griffin. We need to figure out what happened in there.”
He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but what if Claire had been targeted?