Slow Burn (43 page)

Ashley hesitated before she put her arms
around Nina. When the older woman clung to her, Ashley supported
her frail body. “Let’s not talk about that now,” she said when Nina
stopped coughing. “Ron mentioned a secret exit. Do you know where
it is?”

“It was sealed a long time ago.” Another bout
of coughing hit her.

Ashley waited for it to pass then eased the
actress down onto the floor, which from the glow of her cell phone,
was wet and filthy. She could swear she heard something scurry in
the dark. But filth and rats were the least of their problems. They
had to find that sealed door. The broken legs of stools and chairs
lying around could make perfect tools for loosening the bricks.
“Stay here while I find it,” she told Nina.

Nina clung to her hand. “No, don’t leave me.
Please.” She spoke in a raspy, shallow voice that was beginning to
worry Ashley.

She helped Nina to her feet and raised her
cell phone to light their way. “Then we’ll stay together.”

***

Dread crept through Ron when he neared the
house and saw the smoke. He was out of the SUV and running before
the driver stopped. Hungry flames lit the windows and smoke swirled
from turbine air vents. He could hear fire engines mingle with the
house alarm as he sprinted past Ashley’s car and the Camry his
mother had borrowed. He didn’t slow down as he yanked off his
jacket and clutched it in one hand. He tripped over a baseball bat
and almost landed facedown on the steps.

His training as a firefighter—every protocol
drilled in him—was forgotten as he yanked open the door and entered
the foyer. Smoke stung his eyes. His throat closed and his lungs
protested with each inhale. The crackles and hisses came from the
grand staircase and most of upstairs, but the smoke was too thick
to see where the flames were concentrated.

Control the panic. Focus on the task.
Failure wasn’t an option.
Short of breath and dizzy with fear,
he crouched low and ran to the ground floor bathroom, which was far
from the stairs. He turned on the faucet and dunked his jacket, wet
his clothing, face and hair.

Blood pounded in his ears, sweat poured from
his brow and he could swear the walls were closing in on him. He
willed his faltering heart to slow down, as he hurried from the
bathroom, the dripping coat over his head and shoulders. He used
the coat’s tail to cover his mouth and nose. Sounds from outside
indicated the firefighters had arrived, but he kept going toward
the basement door. Ashley had said Frankie was keeping his mother
downstairs, so that was the most likely place to find both of
them.

He tried the basement knob, his hand covered
with the wet coat. He felt the heat, took a step back and kicked it
down. Fire leapt at him when the door swung open. He blocked his
face with his right arm and staggered backward.

Someone flung something on his arm and pushed
him toward the front door. He could barely see the firefighter
through his smarting eyes. At the door, the man yelled, “Have the
medics take a look at that arm, Noble. We know two people are
trapped in the basement. We’ll get them out.”

“No, you won’t. We have to use the tunnels.”
Ron staggered down the steps, his eyes burning. They couldn’t make
it to the basement through that fire. The bastards must have used
accelerants.

Someone yelled out his name, but he was
already racing toward the gate. He ploughed through the team
manning the hoses, the line of fire trucks, the ambulance and cop
cars, everything a blur of colors. Again, he heard his name. He
didn’t slow down as he brought his cell phone to his ear and tried
to reach Ashley, again. Something cold knotted his insides when it
went to her voicemail. They were trapped down there, so close yet
beyond his reach.

Someone grabbed his arm. He turned swinging,
only to have his fist locked in a tight grip. He stared at his
friend’s face. “What the hell are you doing, Kenny?”

“I’m trying to get your attention, man. Are
Ashley and your mother okay?” Kenny asked. Behind him stood
Ashley’s cousin, Eddie, his expression furious.

“Did the firefighters get them out?” Eddie
barked.

“No, but I will through the tunnel. We need
pick axes. Get some from the firefighters.” He continued toward the
road without checking if the other two men followed him. That
Carlyle Club ran a speakeasy in its basement during prohibition was
a secret his family had kept for almost a century, but right now,
he didn’t care if the whole world knew.

Ron stopped and reached down to pull and
slide the grid off the entrance to a storm drain. Someone helped
him, Kenny or Ashley’s cousin, he couldn’t tell. He was on an
adrenaline rush now, the sounds around him reduced to whispers and
meaningless words. He didn’t know he made it down the ladder, but
once he reached the base, he half ran and half waded through the
murky drainage water, sloshing sounds echoing along the endless
circular walls. The tiny neon flashlight attached to his keys came
in handy. He took a left turn, then a right and came to the dry
tunnel he and Kenny visited a few days ago.

“Stop, Mr. Noble!”

Ron heard the order but kept going. Hands
tried to grab his arm, but he shook them off. He could see the
sealed entrance just a few feet a way. The woman he loved and his
mother were on the other side and nothing must stop him from
reaching them. Someone seized his shoulders and pinned him against
the wall. He didn’t bother to struggle when he stared at the faces
of two firefighters in full regalia, pick headed axes clasped in
their hands.

“We’ll take it from here, sir. Detective
Fitzgerald has explained the situation. Is that the entrance?” the
man pointed his axe at the end of the tunnel where planks
crisscrossed a rectangular wall.

Ron nodded. “I want to help.”

“Not with that arm. The paramedics need to
take a look at it. Don’t worry, we’ll get them out. I promise.”

Ron stared down at his left arm. His skin was
red and blistering, a dull throb registering. When had he gotten
burned? It didn’t matter. His arm could wait. He refused to leave
the tunnels without Ashley.

The firefighters called out her name and then
his mother’s. Ron moved closer and angled his head to listen, but
he didn’t hear a response from the other side of the wall. What if
they were unconscious from smoke inhalation? The thought sent a
fresh dose of panic through him. Cold had long since crawled under
his skin, making him feel like the walking dead. His eyes hurt as
he strained to see through the bricks the two men were loosening.
The first brick left the wall and a thin line of smoke followed,
confirming Ron’s worst fears. Smoke was inside the speakeasy
room.

He moved closer as the men directed their
flashlights into the opening and called out, “Ashley? Nina?”

“We’re here.”

Ashley’s voice, gruff and weak, was the
sweetest sound Ron had ever heard. He wanted to call her name,
reassure her that everything would be fine.

“Are you okay, Ashley?” one of the
firefighters asked, axes chipping at the edges of the bricks, thuds
of falling pieces echoing around the tunnels.

“Yes.”

“And Nina?”

“She’s unconscious.”

Ron couldn’t see through the widening hole,
but he followed their conversation, his pounding heart easing with
relief.

“I can see them,” one firefighter said to the
other. “We’re going to collapse the wall, Ashley. Can you pull Nina
away from the wall? Put your arms under hers with her back to your
chest. Yes, just like that. Now pull. Good job. That’s far
enough.”

Seconds later, the men knocked and kicked,
and the wall crumbled. Ron moved closer as both men disappeared
inside. He was nearly at the entrance when the first firefighter
stepped out with his mother cradled in his arms. Ron’s eyes sought
her face. She looked so pale and listless. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine once they clear her lungs,”
the firefighter carrying her said as he walked past Ron. “Her
breathing is strong.”

The second firefighter appeared with Ashley
in his arms. The relief that washed over Ron left him light-headed.
Their gazes connected. Her eyes filled up with tears. Emotions
choked him.

“Ron,” she whispered in a hoarse voice.

“I’m here, sweetheart. Don’t talk. May I
carry her, please?” Ron swept her in his arms, buried his face in
her neck and held tight. “You’re okay. Thank God, you’re okay.”

“I must tell you something,” she whispered.
“Your father….” A coughing bout shook her body.

“Don’t talk now. What my father did or did
not do doesn’t matter. Not anymore. I love you.”

“I love you, too. But we must talk.”

“Not now. Later.” A hand landed on Ron’s
shoulder. It was the other firefighter. “I know. I’ll take her up.”
Tightening his grip around Ashley, Ron carried her toward the storm
drainage tunnels. His feet were much lighter, warmth seeping back
into his body despite the chilling water he waded through.

***

Several hours later—after tests, blood works,
even hyperbaric oxygen therapy for carbon monoxide poisoning—Ashley
was back in her private hospital room, where she was being kept
overnight for observation.

“How’re you doing?” Ron asked as he walked
into the room and she gasped. His right arm was bandaged.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered. To finally see
his beloved face, to know that she was getting a second chance with
this beautiful, wonderful man wrung her heart. She struggled to sit
up and patted the edge of her bed. When he sat by her side, she
touched his bandaged arm. She didn’t care that tears raced down her
face or her hands shook. “How bad is it?”

“First degree burns, nothing serious. “

Her gaze shifted from his arm to his face. He
wore his adorable quirky grin. “I love you, Ronald Noble. I’m so
sorry I almost didn’t tell you.” Her voice broke.

“It’s over,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.
Then his lips connected with hers.

She held onto his head and let him soothe her
senses. She wanted to get lost in him, to glue herself to his side
and never leave. Smoke clung to his shirt, his hair, but she didn’t
care. This was her man, the love of her life. When she and Nina had
been trapped in that filthy room, Ashley had called herself every
name she could think of. She thought she was going to die without
ever telling Ron that she loved him, without apologizing for
laughing in his face when he’d professed his love for her and
without telling him the truth about his father. More tears raced
down her cheeks and reached their joined mouths.

Ron eased off the kiss and brushed a tear
from her chin. “Don’t cry, baby. I came here to tell you how much I
love you, not to make you cry.”

“These are tears of joy. We have so much to
talk about.”

“Can it wait? Right now, I just want to hold
you.” He pulled her into his arms and slid beside her. For a
moment, they cuddled, his cheek pressed against her head, hearts
beating in unison, breathing even. “How are you feeling?” he
asked.

“Better now. When we were trapped in there,
all I thought about was you and how I had so much to tell you.”

He placed a finger on her lips. “Shh. Me,
first. I should have been honest with you from the moment I walked
into your home weeks ago. I promise I’ll never ever hide things
from you again, no matter how painful.”

“Thank you. And apology accepted.” She
shifted so she could see his face. “How’s your mother?”

“She’s a bit weak now, but she’ll be fine.
Physically, that is. Emotionally, I don’t know. It’s going to take
her a while to process everything. Right now she thinks she’s
responsible for pushing Doyle over the edge. She kept mumbling
something about being scared and not standing by him when he was
younger.”

Ashley frowned. “She knew him when they were
younger?”

“He did yard work for my family, which might
explain his obsession with Carlyle House. Hopefully, he’ll lose
interest now that it’s burned to the ground.”

Good riddance. Immediately, she felt bad.
“Your mother must be devastated.”

“I don’t know. She didn’t want to discuss
it.” Ron brushed locks of her hair from her face and tucked them
behind her ear, a bemused smile on his lips. “But she was very
clear when she shooed me away and ordered me to come and see you.
You won her over, babe.”

“The truth did, not me.” She gripped his hand
to get his attention. “I want you to listen to me, Ron. Without
interrupting,” she added when he opened his mouth.

“Okay.”

She talked about everything that happened in
Carlyle House, her returned memories, the things Vaughn and Frankie
revealed. When she finished, he sighed, his grip tight around her.
She leaned back to see his face. His eyes were bright, like he was
holding back tears.

“Say something?” Ashley cupped his cheek.

Ron covered her hand with his, leaned against
the pillow and closed his eyes, his breathing uneven as he fought
for control. “I always knew there was an explanation for the
rumors. My father was…” his voice broke.

This time, she didn’t push for answers, just
held him tight and offered him comfort. Tears filled her eyes again
and rolled down her cheeks as shudders rocked his body.

It was a while before he cleared his throat
and continued, “He was a
good
man.”

Ashley squeezed his hand. She could see he
wanted to say more. “Tell me about him.”

“He was a principled man, hardworking and
honest, very loving. He never forgot where he came from. Even when
he ran the Neumann branch here in L.A., he always volunteered as a
firefighter.” He reminisced about his childhood, the good and the
bad. “Mom will be happy to finally know the truth.”

“She knows. We talked while we were trying to
break out of that room.”