Authors: Kathy Clark
“It’s in the house,” he told her, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “In the smelly things.”
Smelly things?
Her mind scrambled for what that might mean. “Dirty clothes?” she asked.
“No, the good smelly things. You know, the ones with the little bear on the box,” he whispered back.
“Dryer sheets?”
He nodded.
Good choice. Men like Carlos never did laundry, so it would be unlikely he would stumble on it there. Julie looked around. Apparently the fire was out. Smoke no longer billowed from the roof, and the firefighters were straightening out the hoses in preparation of rolling them back up. One of the firefighters walked out of the house with an axe swung over his shoulder. She lifted her hand and waved at him. She recognized him from several other fires she had been called out to.
He noticed and walked toward them. He was tall, well over six feet. Dressed in full firefighting uniform, he looked big and menacing, sort of like an urban alien. Steam radiated from his long black coat with its yellow reflective stripe and the top of his black helmet. He had an air canister strapped on his back, but he had unfastened his respirator and it hung off to one side. His face was smudged with a layer of carbon, marked with paths where sweat and water had streaked down. After giving Julie a crooked grin, he swung the axe to the ground and knelt in front of Danny, as if he knew what an imposing sight he must be.
“You must be Daniel,” he said to him. “I saw some amazing drawings on the refrigerator. I was hoping I would get to meet the artist. Were those yours?”
Danny nodded solemnly, but Julie could see that he was flattered.
“And that must have been your room with the race car posters.”
Again Danny nodded. “Did my room burn up?”
“No, we were able to stop the fire before it got to your room. But I’m afraid some of your things got a little wet and are going to smell like smoke.”
“How about my baseball cap? The doctor people made me and my mom leave so fast I didn’t get it.”
The firefighter said, “Oh yeah, I remember seeing a couple caps in there. They’ll be fine.” He took off his helmet and held it out to Danny. “Maybe you’d like to wear
my
hat.”
Danny’s brown eyes stretched wide. “Oh yes, sir.”
The man set the hat on the boy’s much smaller head and it settled down to cover his ears and face all the way down to his nose. Instead of taking it off, Danny lifted his chin and looked out from underneath it. But most noticeable was the twitch of a smile that had softened his tense lips.
The firefighter stood and turned his attention to Julie. He pushed the heavy cloth hood off his head, revealing rumpled dark brown hair. As he looked at her, she was struck by the clarity of his bright blue eyes.
“You’re Julie, aren’t you?” he asked.
She was a little surprised that he knew her name because they had never actually spoken. Not that she was a stranger to any of the public responders because Julie or one of her volunteers showed up at all of the more serious crime, fire or accident scenes. “Yes, I am. And you’re . . .?”
“Rusty,” he answered and pointed toward his last name that was printed on his jacket as he added, “Wilson. I’m sure you know my younger brothers.”
“Oh, so you’re
that
Wilson,” Julie teased. She was very well acquainted with his brothers. Sam was a Denver cop who she worked with often, and Chris, the youngest, was a paramedic out of Denver Health. He wasn’t one of the ones on scene tonight, but their paths had crossed often in the course of their jobs.
Rusty held up his hands. “Whoa, you can’t believe everything you hear about me.”
“Why do you assume it’s all bad?” she asked.
“Because some of it is true. I’m the first to admit that I enjoy life. But my brothers like to exaggerate my . . .,” he grinned, “. . . transgressions.”
Julie shrugged. This was not a point she wanted to debate in the middle of a snowy night when she was without a coat. “I was just wondering if someone could take me inside for a minute. I need to get Danny’s things and . . . well, something else.”
“Sure, I’ll take you in, but he needs to stay out here.” Rusty called over one of the other firefighters. “Jackson, would you hang with my friend Daniel for a few minutes?”
Jackson, a middle-aged black firefighter who had just finished shutting off the hydrant and screwing the cap back on, nodded and knelt down next to Danny. “Hey buddy. My name is Jackson. Do you mind keeping me company while they go get some of your clothes?”
Danny nodded, solemn again. He stayed, but his gaze moved back to Julie.
“Don’t let anyone take him away, okay?” she asked Jackson.
“Gotcha,” Jackson confirmed.
After giving Danny a reassuring pat on the head, she turned to follow Rusty.
“Don’t forget my cap,” Danny called after her.
“I won’t,” she called back.
“Watch your step,” Rusty cautioned. He had taken a flashlight out of his utility belt and turned it on, illuminating a wide arc of destruction.
Apparently, the electricity was off and the spotlights didn’t penetrate past the front door. The dark house took on a sinister spook-house sort of feeling as they stepped over the threshold and into the smoldering interior.
“The fire didn’t make it to this part of the house, but the back two bedrooms are pretty much gone,” he added as they made their way around pieces of furniture that had been knocked over or tossed out of the way.
“Any idea what caused it?” She followed directly behind him, keeping her hand on his back because nothing could be seen outside the beam of his light.
“Looks like an iron on the carpet. But the investigators will find out for sure.”
They picked their way along the soggy carpet of the hallway. Even though the flames hadn’t made it into the hallway, the sheetrock was damp and there was a heavy, acrid smell that burned her lungs. When they arrived at Danny’s room, she hurried to collect his jacket and a few items of clothing, including his Little League baseball cap that was sitting on his chest of drawers. She also scooped up the stuffed monkey that held an obvious position of importance on his pillow and stuffed it all into his Cars backpack.
“We need to get out of here,” Rusty reminded her.
“I have one more thing,” she told him. “Did you happen to notice a laundry room?”
“Not in this part of the house. Maybe off the kitchen?” He led the way back down the hall and across the small living room to the kitchen. Sure enough, in the mud room that led outside was a small stackable washer and dryer that had probably been one of Gloria’s prized possessions. But Julie had eyes only for the box of Snuggle dryer sheets on the shelf next to it.
“Really?” Rusty asked when he saw her pick it up.
She didn’t answer, but pulled out the sheets until she reached the bottom of the box. Nestled there, just as Danny had told her was the emergency cell phone she had given Gloria the last time Julie had been called out to this house. It was something she often gave to victims of domestic abuse because their controlling spouse or partner often refused to let them have any contact with the outside world. She was glad to see that Gloria had listened to her recommendation to hide the phone in a safe place where Carlos wouldn’t find it because Gloria clearly hadn’t paid any attention to Julie’s other advice to not let him back in her life. Julie held up the phone so Rusty could see it, then followed him out the back door and to the driveway.
Once back outside, she took deep, cleansing breathes of the crisp cold air. “I don’t know how you guys do it,” she admitted to Rusty.
He flashed her a grin, his teeth looking incredibly white against his soot-blackened face. “Are you kidding? I’d do this even if they didn’t pay me. But don’t tell anyone.”
Julie flipped open the phone, turned it on and watched as it booted up. “Hey thanks,” she told him.
“No problem.” His expression sobered. “You do good work, you know. They need someone like you to help them after all this.” He motioned around them at the devastation. Yes, they had saved most of the house, but the smoke and the water had ruined much of what the flames hadn’t consumed. These people had lost a lot, if not everything, and they would need all the help they could get.
“Hey Wilson. We’re ready to roll,” the captain called and gave Julie a wave of acknowledgment.
They walked back to where Danny and Jackson waited. Rusty reached down and lifted his heavy helmet off of the boy’s head. “Thank you for taking care of my helmet for me. It looks good on you, but I’m going to need it in case I have to go to another fire tonight.”
“Sure,” Danny said with pride at having accomplished something so apparently important.
“Maybe you can get your mom to bring you by the fire station sometime when she feels better,” Rusty suggested. “I’ll give you a tour and let you sit in a fire truck.”
“Really? Wow, okay,” Danny agreed.
Rusty looked back at Julie. “And I’ll see
you
around.”
“Yeah, we seem to hang out at the same places.” She smiled. “Thanks again.” She nodded her head toward Danny, indicating that his kindness toward the little boy hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Rusty dismissed it with a shrug, but he gave her another grin as he put his helmet back on and headed toward the waiting fire truck.
“Julie, we’re finished, too,” the police officer who had been standing nearby talking to the captain told her.
“We can sit in my car and wait for his grandmother,” she suggested, but the officer shook his head.
“I can’t leave you here. It’s still a hot scene.”
Julie glanced around, suddenly nervous. “You mean he’s not in custody?” she asked while being careful to keep the conversation as neutral as possible.
“He was gone when we arrived, but you can bet he’ll come back.”
She shivered, not just because of the cold that was penetrating her heavy sweater. She had never actually met Carlos, but she had seen his handiwork on at least three occasions. “Let me make a quick call to Danny’s grandmother so she can be on her way.” She went to the Contacts’ list. There were only two numbers in it. Gloria’s mother and Julie’s cell phone. Even though she had encouraged Gloria to call her if Carlos came back, it was now clear that that hadn’t happened. She clicked on the word
“Mom”
and put the phone to her ear.
It rang five times before a sleepy voice answered,
“Hello.”
Julie turned away so Danny couldn’t hear the conversation as she gave Gloria’s mother a quick summary of the evening’s events. “I’m taking Danny to the police station. We’ll wait for you there.” She gave the woman the address, and after getting her confirmation, Julie hung up.
“Okay, Danny, we’re going to get to ride in a police car. Have you ever done that before?”
He shook his head, but there was a spark of excitement in his eyes.
“First, I’m going to trade you coats,” she told him. She released his parka from his backpack where she had clipped it and handed it to him. He took off her coat, and they exchanged. She welcomed the warmth as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and buttoned it up. Danny had a little trouble with his zipper, so she helped him get it started, then reached into the backpack and pulled out his cap. The first genuine smile of the night spread across his face as he put it on and tugged it into position. She didn’t even need a voiced “thanks” because his expression said it all.
The police officer unlocked the doors of his cruiser and opened the back door for them. Julie glanced back at her white Kia that was parked down the street. She knew it was city policy that she couldn’t carry civilians in her personal vehicle and she had promised not to leave Danny’s side until his grandmother arrived. That left her no choice but to ride with him in the patrol car to the station. She would worry about getting a ride back to pick it up later. Since Danny’s grandmother lived in Fort Collins, it would take her several hours to get dressed and drive to the station.
The spotlights that had illuminated the scene switched off as the fire trucks prepared to leave. With only the red and blue emergency lights still flashing, the night seemed darker and the shadows deeper. Julie glanced around. She had the uncomfortable feeling that Carlos was there, out of sight, but watching as she took his son away from him, hopefully forever. She shivered again and silently urged Danny to hurry up. She wanted to be inside the safety of the cruiser.
As soon as he was inside, she climbed in after him and tried not to notice the telltale smell of urine and vomit that usually clung in the air of the back seats of all the patrol cars. It had been a long day and was turning out to be a long night. But she, like Rusty, loved her job and would rather be here than any place she’d ever been. Only she knew how desperate she was to never go back.
BION (Believe It Or Not)
CHAPTER ONE
MONDAY, JUNE 10, 2013
FORT MYERS BEACH, FLORIDA
A wispy fog hung in the air, humid and heavy. From somewhere came the eerie whinny of a horse. The countryside was bleak, devastated by years of battles fought on its soil. The dirt was fallow, beaten down by thousands of hooves and heavy wheels, and tainted by gallons of blood and sweat.
The big bay stallion galloped through the mist, dodging the barriers and avoiding the artillery craters and the ditches that had once protected soldiers.
Kelly crawled across the barren landscape. She could feel the earth vibrating under the pounding of the horse’s hooves as he came closer, closer. Every time she lifted her head to look, a bullet whistled past, narrowly missing her.
Would he run right past her? Would he leave her behind? Oh God, no, don’t let them shoot him.
The air swirled as the horse reared. His hot breath heaved from his nostrils like a dragon and foamy lather dripped from his shoulders. Kelly knew this was her only chance. She jumped to her feet and tried to grab his reins.
Short staccato blasts pierced the air. Kelly felt one of the bullets rip through her left leg just as she tangled her fingers in the stallion’s thick mane. The sound of the gunshots made him shy away, but she clung to him, grimacing with pain as her body bounced against him as he galloped. She felt her grip slipping. If she fell, she knew she would be trampled under his sharp hooves. He wouldn’t mean to, but he was terrified and running for his life.
Bang . . . bang . . . bang . . .
Three more shots . . .
“Kelly, are you awake?” a voice broke into her dream as a door opened, spilling light into the room.
The mists blew away and the horse vanished. Kelly blinked her eyes and looked around, completely disoriented.
“We’ve got to leave in an hour . . . no later. The curtain waits for no one.” Aunt Jane switched on the overhead light, then closed the door. Her aunt’s footsteps quickly moved down the hall to the stairs.
Kelly sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The dream still clung to her. It had seemed so real. She had even felt the pain of the bullet piercing her flesh. She tried to stand and almost collapsed. Her left leg ached and throbbed. It hadn’t all been a dream.
Gingerly, she pulled back the bandage she had taped over the wound and looked at the bright red streak that had, indeed, been made by a bullet . . . just not in a war. Actually, she had been shot after spending what was supposed to be a relaxing one-day trip to a deserted beach off the southeast coast of Florida. Unfortunately, it had been inhabited by a lovely family of Cuban refugees and their guests . . . and a crazy man who wanted to kill them all, including Kelly and her friends.
They had barely escaped with their lives, although she had gotten nicked by a bullet on the way out. Definitely, not something she could tell her aunt. Even with an urge to confess the time traveling to her aunt, Kelly knew the gunshot wound would send her aunt over the edge. The bullet had just grazed her leg, luckily, because she definitely didn’t want to go to the doctor for treatment. That would create more questions than she was willing and able to answer.
Kelly was excited because her aunt was taking her to see the play
War Horse
in Tampa for an early birthday present which was probably why her dream had been a morphed version of the movie and her own experiences. Kelly loved all things equine. She had grown up on a small ranch in Texas and had had her own horse since she was six years old. Leaving Scarlett with a friend had been heartbreaking but necessary since her aunt’s house was on a small lot and couldn’t accommodate any animal larger than a dog.
Her aunt was trying to keep the adjustment from being too difficult, and this play tonight was her way of helping Kelly get her horse-fix.
Actually, it had all started two weeks ago when her parents had been in a fatal car accident and Kelly had been packed up and shipped off to live with her aunt Jane in Fort Myers Beach, Florida. Overwhelmed with grief and shock, Kelly had been terrified that she would be miserable. But on the first day in her new home, she had met Scott, the boy next door and, together, they had worked to clean out her aunt’s garage and organize a garage sale.
The discovery of a box containing a forgotten invention that Thomas Edison had given to her great-great-grandfather had been interesting. It wasn’t until they had read the note from Edison, himself, that they realized they had found his legendary
“Telephone to the Dead”
. Even more amazing was that it had worked, and they were able to listen to voices that were carrying on conversations . . . from beyond the grave.
One voice had come through more clearly than the others, crying out for help. Using the microphone, Kelly had been able to talk with the girl and discovered that she had died in 1966 from an apparent suicide. Scott, who in Kelly’s opinion, was a freaking genius had designed an app for their cell phones that would take them back in time so they could help keep the girl alive. Scott’s best friend, Austin, who lived two houses over from Aunt Jane’s joined Kelly and Scott as they prepared for their trip. Accidentally, a fourth traveler had joined them. At first, Zoey, a popular cheerleader had been very unhappy and uncooperative. But gradually, she had come around. That trip had been so successful that they had decided to again try out the
Telephone to the Dead
, or
Spirit Radio
as they had nicknamed it, which had led them to their last adventure to Crystal Key and their confrontation with a man with a gun.
Jane was a respected assistant district attorney who had lived alone, quite happily, for several years after her divorce. She took her job very seriously and Kelly knew that the fact that she had been shot wouldn’t be something her aunt would ignore.
That meant Kelly would have to take care of it herself and make sure it didn’t get infected. Carefully, she eased to her feet, taking it much slower than before. The wound was still raw and open, making her leg stiff and not easy to bend. She had already used some antiseptic and bandages from the medicine cabinet in her bathroom, but now that she had bled through her bandage, she knew she would have to redo it. It took a couple of minutes to make it across the room. Once in the bathroom, she studied her body in the mirror and was startled at her image. The shells and rocks from Crystal Key had left scratches and cuts all over her skin where it had not been covered by clothing or shoes.
Kelly didn’t normally wear makeup other than a little mascara around her greenish-brown eyes and lip gloss for special occasions. But tonight she was going to have to put on a layer of concealer or something to make herself presentable. She had to hurry because being late would just complicate her conversation with her aunt. And she wanted to make sure the time and the mood was right.
As she doctored her wounds and dressed, she ran through the confession scenarios in her head. She could just blurt it all out . . . the whole story about the trips to the past, talking to dead people and saving people’s lives. But then she would probably be sent for drug tests first and then to a court-appointed shrink. At a minimum, she’d lose communications with her new friends Scott, Austin and Zoey. Maybe they would all have to go to drug treatment or electro-shock therapy together. Not exactly a way to make friends and fit in in a new place.
A simpler topic to entrust to her aunt’s thinking would be to get some input about her recently discovered feelings for Austin even though the only date she had ever gone on in her entire life was a couple of days ago and it was with Scott. Kelly sighed. That sounded as confused as her own feelings about the situation, and she was doubtful that Aunt Jane would be able to help clarify it. Aunt Jane didn’t strike her as a romantic. She was too left-brained, dealing on a daily basis with criminals on a case-by-case, question-by-question basis. She dealt with facts, interrogating and prosecuting people. She hated compromise and probably wouldn’t understand that Kelly was already developing feelings for both boys. It wasn’t logical, and Aunt Jane was, above all things, logical.
Kelly decided to start with the fact that her brand new cell phone had been ruined by the water. That wasn’t a lie. It
had
been water. It just wasn’t the water in the Gulf of Mexico which was only a few blocks from Aunt Jane’s house. It was a bigger issue that it had been in the Atlantic Ocean off the Florida Keys, and it hadn’t been yesterday, but back in 1980. But it was still salt water. Maybe that would ease her aunt into the conversation about the
Spirit Radio
. Yeah…that was a plan. It wouldn’t be wise to start down either the time travel road or her dating concerns right off the bat.
She thought about the downsides. After all, she wouldn’t even be sixteen years old until Thursday, so she really should get her learner's permit first then worry about lifetime commitments…or maybe who to date next weekend. She frowned and shook her head quickly as she tried to not be so dramatic when it came to guys.
Kelly was finally satisfied that her face was presentable and the bandage on her leg wouldn’t bleed through. She combed out her bangs and let her long dark brown hair fall straight and shiny around her shoulders, then hurried, as fast as she was able, to her closet to pick out an outfit. Something her aunt bought her at the mall would be respectful and in fashion. And it would be quick. Several minutes later as she looked in the full-length mirror, she thought that her new skinny jeans, a black sweater for night-time elegance and the seashell necklace Austin had given her made a pretty classy ensemble, although it had hurt like crazy to pull those jeans on over her wound. With a deep, steadying breath, she walked out of her bedroom and down the steps to find her aunt with car keys in hand, ready to open the door into the garage.
“That outfit looks really nice on you,” her aunt said with an appreciative nod. “Ready?”
Kelly’s smile was genuine. “I’m so excited. And Aunt Jane . . .”
“Yes?”
“Thank you . . . for everything. The jeans, the play tonight . . . letting me live here. You’ve been really good to me.” Kelly blinked back the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes.
“I’m looking forward to tonight. This will be fun.”
They walked through the kitchen, into the garage and got into Jane’s Mercedes. Kelly pressed the garage door opener that was on the visor and then buckled her seatbelt. “It’s only 2:28! We made it!” Kelly exclaimed with a smile.
Her aunt backed carefully out and into the street as Kelly closed the garage door for her. Within minutes they had crossed the bridge to the mainland, wove their way through Fort Myers and then merged onto I-75 north toward Tampa.
“You need to pay attention to the roads we’re going to take today,” her aunt told her. “You’re probably going to want to get your license soon, and you’ll need to know how to get around the area without getting lost. Although I don’t think you’ll be driving this far out of town for quite awhile.”
“I’ve been to a few places in Fort Myers with the guys. That’s about it. I figure they know where they’re going.” Kelly smiled as she glanced over at her aunt.
“Well, that’s all going to change after Thursday, isn’t it?”
“Thursday? Oh yeah . . . my birthday. Mom and Dad said I could get my learner’s permit when I turned fifteen, but we never got around to it. Florida’s license age is sixteen, I guess?”
“Yes, with private driver’s ed classes. You can take them this summer or through the school in the fall. But we can talk about all that later.” Jane reached over and squeezed Kelly’s left knee.
Kelly winced and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her aunt had managed to hit the exact spot of her gunshot wound. She turned her head away and stared outside while she waited for the pain to subside.
Luckily, her aunt didn’t notice as she continued, “Today’s the day to have some together time . . . just you and me. So what did you want to talk about?”
Kelly wasn’t ready to start that conversation just yet. She noticed the scenery was passing by at what appeared to be a high rate of speed and glanced over at the speedometer. The last speed limit sign she had seen had been 70 mph and decided it would be a good delaying tactic to change the subject. “So do you pull the prosecutor card when they catch you doing eighty-three in a seventy zone?” she teased.
“Oh I see. This is the
don’t do as I do, do as I say
moment of parenthood I’ve heard so much about,” Jane said with a guilty grin.
“Don’t worry. Dad taught me how to drive on country roads and empty parking lots. He said I drove like an old lady. I guess I’m a little cautious.”
Jane depressed the set-speed button on the wheel of her Mercedes until the speed dropped to seventy-eight. “There, compromise. We still have to get there on time.”
They continued up I-75. As they passed the Sarasota exit, Kelly noticed several billboards advertising the Ringling Museum. “Is there a circus hall of fame here?” she asked.
“No, I think it’s somewhere in Indiana. Several of the circuses wintered in Sarasota and the hall of fame was here until about thirty-five years ago. It probably should be here, but there was some kind of controversy, and they were going to split it up. That city in Indiana scraped together the money and moved it, lock, stock and circus wagon there,” her aunt explained. “But the Ringling Brother’s Museum is here, and I’ve heard it’s incredible. I’ve never taken time to go through it, but they say it has a lot of circus memorabilia and some sort of a hand-crafted miniature circus. And one of the brothers, John, I think, lived on the property in a fabulous mansion filled with art that is open to the public. They get a ton of visitors every year. I hear it’s pretty gaudy and colorful, like the circus itself. Why do you ask?”