Midnight Secrets (39 page)

Her heart pounded as fear and dread set in. Someone had set fire to the guesthouse and had blocked all exits. She could hear her breath rasping from her lungs. Dizziness hit her. She dropped to her knees before she fell. Panic tried to overwhelm good sense. She didn’t want to die like this. Not when she and Zach had just now found each other again. And her parents’ killer? Would he get away with another murder? No!

Savannah forced herself to think. There had to be another way.

The third floor—attic.
Yes! Whether her muddled mind imagined the voice or a disembodied voice had actually said the words, she didn’t know. But that was her only hope. Tugging her shirt off, she held it in front of her face and, with all the strength she could muster, scurried toward the stairway.

Dark smoke so thick it was like a living entity swirled around her. Seconds became minutes. Then, finally, her knees touched wood. She had reached the stairway.

Her reserves fading fast, Savannah stayed as low as she could and ran instead of crawled up the stairway. If she could make it to the attic, she would crawl out onto the roof and shimmy down the trellis at the back of the house. She hadn’t done that in years but it was her only hope.

She made it to the second floor, refused to stop. She told herself that she wasn’t hurting; that her lungs weren’t aching and her eyes weren’t stinging.

She pictured Zach, his beautiful, handsome face. She thought about their future, what they had lost and what they might still have. She thought about Sammie and Bri … and Aunt Gibby. Thinking of her loved ones forced energy into her overtaxed body. Forcing her feet to move, she ran toward the staircase that led to the third floor. Seconds later, she practically fell onto the stairs and began to move up. A distant amusement hit her that she was actually sliding up the stairs. It didn’t matter how she got there … she just had to get there.

Finally in the third-floor hallway, she counted seven steps to her right. The attic door. Taking a running leap, she slammed into the door, turned the knob, and fell face-first into the room. A distant voice told her to shut the door. With little energy left, she managed to kick her foot out and slam the door shut.

Forcing herself to her feet, she looked around and almost cried. A tidal wave of blackness devoured the air with a voracious appetite eating up all oxygen and replacing it with poison. If the smoke had reached this far up, the house would be engulfed in fire within minutes. Swaying dizzily, she headed toward the other side of the room where the giant window led onto the roof. Whoever had blocked her exit downstairs … had they thought to block this one, too?

Lungs screaming for clean, fresh air, she tried to concentrate on taking shallow breaths as she felt for the window. Tears flooded her stinging eyes. Determinedly, Savannah refused to give up. Zach would know by now that something was wrong. She couldn’t die now … not when they’d just found each other again. She couldn’t.

In a small part of her brain, she realized that her thinking was befuddled and hazy. Panic could do that but so could air deprivation. Dear God, was this it? No, she refused to believe this would be the end of her life. The bastard had taken her parents, he would damn well not take her, too.

A sob built in her throat she refused to allow. She needed every bit of her breath to stay conscious. Thankfully the attic was small, only covering the back portion of the house. She could do this, she had to do this. At last, her hands touched resistance again. A wall. Was the window close by? Her hand moved over the rough surface of the wall, searching … searching. Sweet Lord, where was the window? On the verge of believing she needed to start over again, she touched glass. The window!

Taking a chance, knowing she only had a few precious seconds before unconsciousness claimed her, she reached for the windowsill. Teeth gritted for strength, she jerked it up. Stuck! No, not possible. She tugged and tugged. Not stuck. Locked. Stupid, stupid … Her hand listlessly lifted toward the lock and clicked it open. Then, with the last of her strength, she raised the window. Sweet, fresh air greeted her lungs.

Sobbing and shouting for Zach in her mind, Savannah crawled through the window, vaguely aware of the pain in her knees where the roof scraped her skin. Roaring in her head made her wonder, Was that the sound of fire roaring toward her? Was she about to be consumed?

Her last thought was the vision of a blue sky and the beauty of a peaceful summer’s day in Midnight.

“Chief Tanner, you need to get out of here. Now!”

Fear like he’d never known clawed at Zach’s heart. His shouts were going unanswered. She was here in the guesthouse, he knew she was. The damn door had been wedged shut … she couldn’t have escaped. She was still here. “Savannah!”

“Chief, there’s not much time left. Get out now!”

Zach ignored the fireman behind him. He had to find her. He’d already been in every room on the first floor. The fire had started in the back of the house, close to the kitchen. The flames were growing heavier. The firemen were working valiantly, but saving the structure might not be possible. But dammit, saving Savannah was.

Racing up the stairs, he continued to yell. As he went from room to room, the small oxygen tank they had loaned him pumped fresh air into his lungs. The goggles protected his eyes, but the smoke was so heavy it was almost impossible to see anything.

Standing at the top of the landing, he lifted the oxygen mask and shouted, “Savannah! Where are you?”

Nothing. Had she gotten out? How? Where? He turned and ran toward the stairway to the third floor. The attic. Maybe she was in the attic. Shouts from the outside stopped him cold. “There she is! At the back … the roof!”

Relief gave his feet wings as he raced downstairs, out the door, and to the back of the house. A ladder was being leaned against the building and a fireman was already halfway up. Zach followed him, once again ignoring the shouts for him to stay back. When at last he reached the roof, his heart that had been rejoicing stopped and slammed to the ground. Savannah lay facedown on the roof, unmoving. No, no, no … He couldn’t be too late.

Chapter

Twenty-eight

Agony in her chest woke her. Willing her eyes to open, she realized that they wouldn’t cooperate. What was wrong? Where was she? Why did she hurt so much? Panic seized her, causing her breath to labor; more intense pain clutched her chest.

“Shh,” a deep, dearly familiar voice whispered. “You’re going to be fine. Just breathe slowly.”

Zach.
She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Questions filled her dazed brain. She dug deep, beneath the pain and confusion, searching for reason. Finally it came. Smoke … a fire. Someone had tried to kill her … had burned down the guesthouse. What about the mansion? Had it burned down, too? Tears seeped from her closed lids, causing them to sting. A sob built in her chest, causing a new agony.

“Savannah, listen to me. You’re going to be fine. You inhaled too much smoke and you’re on oxygen. Your eyes are fine, too. The doctor has treated them and said your vision won’t be compromised. You just need to rest.”

Struggling with all her might, she managed a croaking whisper: “The house?”

“The guesthouse is gone. The mansion is untouched.”

Relieved and grateful, Savannah at last managed to open her eyes. The sight of Zach’s red-rimmed eyes and charcoal-blackened face was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. “Thank you,” she whispered.

A smile lifted his mouth but his eyes remained worried and behind that worry was a simmering rage. The fact that someone had gone to so much trouble and risk astounded her. The killer either believed she knew something or there was evidence he didn’t want her to find. The letters … oh God, the letters were gone.

“Letters?” she whispered.

“All gone, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Savannah.”

She would deal with that knowledge later. “Aunt … Gibby?”

“She’s fine. I hadn’t planned to tell her until she could see you were all right for herself. Unfortunately Hester got to her first. I assured her you were going to be okay and would be by to see her in a day or so, after you’re rested up. I’ve had to turn half the town away from your door. Everyone is worried about you.”

Amazing. With the exception of her family, she’d always felt like such a loner in this town. Having that many people concerned for her gave her a warm feeling until she remembered that one of those people might well be a killer. Had one of them wanted to see her to finish off the job?

She lifted her hand, surprised at how heavy it felt, and tenderly traced the grim lines around his mouth. “Tired?”

Taking her hand in his, he pressed a kiss against her palm. “Scared. So very scared, babe.”

Zach never called her an endearment, it had never been his style. The fact that he did now made her wonder. “‘Babe?’” she whispered.

A grin lifted his mouth and finally his eyes smiled too. “‘Sugar’ and ‘honey doll’ just don’t fit the occasion.”

Her mouth twitched slightly in a halfhearted attempt at a smile. Hopefully ‘honey doll’ would never fit the occasion.

His eyes darkened with emotion. “I never want to go through something like that again. We’ve got to find this fucker before he succeeds in killing someone else.”

“Ideas?”

“Yeah. Remember the call I got about Ethel Mae’s window?”

She nodded.

“It was a fake call.”

She shook her head slowly. No, that didn’t make sense … did it? “A woman?”

“Yeah.”

A woman was doing this? A woman had killed her mother and father? “No … sense.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense, but we’ll get to the bottom of it. I checked with Ethel Mae about who knew she would be out of town. Apparently she’s gone every year around this time and most everyone knows about it. So that doesn’t narrow down our suspects one iota.”

“How long … ” She winced, swallowed, and continued, “Stay … here?”

“At least overnight. You were damn lucky. The doctor said you didn’t inhale enough smoke to damage your lungs. Brody’s partner, Logan Wright, is on his way here from Mobile. He’ll alternate with Brody on guarding your aunt. Also, I called Bri and Sammie. They’ll be here first thing tomorrow.”

A thought stopped her cold. She took a deep breath. Wincing, she spoke as quickly as she could, hoping to minimize the pain in her chest and throat. “A woman hung my father? Not possible. He was six feet tall and weighed close to two hundred pounds.”

“She obviously had help. Or maybe a man did this and a woman is helping him for whatever reason.”

So the list she had made was still valid. A man and a woman. A couple? Gruesome and scary, but it made sense. The couples at the party had all been friends with her parents. If one had committed the murder, then the other might have chosen to help. Or it had been a plan between the two of them. Still, what had they hoped to gain by killing her parents? Was it out of spite or envy?

With the attempted murder of Gibby and now Savannah, keeping their investigation a secret was no longer desirable or necessary. Each person on the list of suspects they had devised could be questioned individually. Someone she knew, someone she and her family had trusted for years, had committed the awful crime. And they had made it clear that they would kill again. Desperate people committed desperate acts. If the killer wasn’t identified soon, what else would they do and who else would be their target?

Savannah woke on a gasp. Bright sunlight, streaming through the sheer drapes at the window, chased away the remnants of a nightmare filled with smoke, fire, and death. She sat up and hissed at the pain. Her entire body felt as though someone had beaten her. Knowing how lucky she was to be alive made that pain bearable, though.

She had been released from the hospital early this morning. Instead of taking her home, Zach had brought her to his house. She hadn’t questioned why. Her almost dying yesterday had a major impact on both of them. Seeing the abject terror in Zach’s eyes made her want to do whatever she could do to diminish his fear. In turn, Zach was treating her like she was made of spun glass.

After placing her in his bed, he’d lain beside her and held her until she fell back asleep. In his arms, no matter what happened, she felt safe, warm, and cherished. She knew she was loved.

Yesterday she hadn’t had the energy to put a coherent thought to work. Today, that had to change. They had to find this maniac before he succeeded in killing someone else. And when this was over, she and Zach were going to have some lengthy alone time.

Losing her grandfather’s letters was a blow, as was the guesthouse. Sadness still lingered but a welcome and necessary pragmatism was taking over. It was done; there was nothing they could do to save what was lost. The important thing was to dwell on what they had.

She heard them before she saw them. Running steps and then two beautiful women burst into the room at the same time. Bri ran to one side of the bed, Sammie the other.

Sammie had long, straight blond hair that fell past her shoulders, and perfect makeup that, as usual, looked as though it had been professionally applied. Her white sundress was delicately feminine, emphasizing the natural elegance her sister had been born with.

Seemingly just the opposite of her stylish sister, Bri kept her bleached white-blond hair so short it spiked in places. She wore minimal makeup and had on her usual attire—jeans, a white T-shirt, and running shoes.