Jar Of Dreams Part 19

"We love you too." Crockett didn't relax his stance even a little bit. "And?"

"And I have a minor heart problem."

Maria snorted. "You had a minor heart problem. It's not so minor now. You're agreeing to see a cardiologist or I'm transferring you to Cincinnati. Then I'm going to fire you as a patient and leave you there. I'm not sure, but I think I can fix it so you have to pay me unemployment insurance."

Gert ignored her. "My medication was in the den. I'd gone there to get it because I had a little pain."

"Were you overcome by the smoke?" Kelly asked.

"No, there wasn't any smoke."

Maria rolled her eyes. "She had a heart attack," she explained. "If it hadn't been for the smoke, she'd probably still be lying there. Not that the smoke in and of itself was good for her-oh, G.o.d, no-but it may well have kept her alive."

A spate of curses from the hallway drew their attention. Maria stepped outside the cubicle, to return a moment later with Sims. He kissed Gert's forehead and sat beside her on the bed, taking her hand in his.

"You make that appointment," he told Maria, his gaze never leaving Gert's. "We'll see she keeps it. I don't know much about that S and M business, but I got no problem with tying her up to get her there."

"Now just a d.a.m.n minute, Josiah Sims. I can make my own appointments when and if I choose to." Gert tried to pull her hand free, but he held it fast.

He shook his head. "If that were true, you'd have already done it. Is she spending the night here, Maria?"

"Yes." The doctor's voice was pleasant but firm. Lucy thought she'd be entirely capable of handling Gert if the patient got too recalcitrant. "Maybe two. I'll decide tomorrow. Unless you'd rather go into Cincinnati, Gert?" She raised an elegant eyebrow at her patient. "Didn't think so. Now, the rest of you need to leave so that we can get her into a bed. She's going to have a good, long sleep."

"Except me," Sims said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Except you." Maria pressed his shoulder. "We'll get a cot in the room for you."

"I'd sleep better at home," Gert complained, "and I need to see the damage."

"You'll see it tomorrow or the next day-whenever you get to come home. We'll take care of things tonight." Boone bent to kiss her, followed by the others. Lucy went last, and when she would have walked away, Gert reached for her hand.

"Thank you."

Lucy shook her head. "It was Kinsey. She woke me up." She knew if she said anything more about the missing cat, she'd end up blubbering, so she forced a smile. "See you tomorrow, Gert. Rest now."

In the hallway, they spoke with Eli.

"I'll spend a little time with her before she goes to sleep and make sure Sims settles in too," he said. "Rest easy." He shook hands all around and offered up a beatific smile at Crockett and Boone. "After all, your money's safe with me."

The emergency vehicles had left and the buildings seemed to be intact when Boone, Crockett, Kelly and Lucy got home. Micah's Blazer was still on the street and he and Tom were raking ash away from the house. Jack was with them, and Lucy checked the time in consternation. What was he doing out at this hour? Even on Sat.u.r.day night, she was sure his curfew was midnight. His mother worked nights at the casino, but Lucy would have bet the boy honored her wishes.

"Maria called, so we know about Gert. We already contacted the cleaning service," Micah said. "They'll be here Monday morning, but you'll be able to go in tomorrow. The only smoke and water damage is in the back of the house-the kitchen and laundry area and Gert's suite of rooms. The fire started in the leaves and it damaged the back wall, but nowhere else on the outside of the house-although it came close. Even the roof and the eaves are intact."

Boone and Crockett's faces were stricken. Lucy knew they were wondering if the fire had started because they'd piled the leaves too densely.

"The fire marshal's already been here?" Kelly asked.

"Yes. The insurance adjustor was too. He'll come back tomorrow for further a.s.sessment in daylight, but we're cleared to start clean-up. Landy called and reserved rooms for you at the bed and breakfast on the edge of town if you want them, but you'll be back in the house in just a few days. Martha Mayhew, the proprietor, said not to worry when you came or even if you did-it's late enough no one else is going to request the rooms." Micah yawned hugely and leaned his rake against the garage wall. "I'm going to go home now. My wife would notice if she got up for church and I wasn't there."

"Hold up and you can drop me off." Tom held up a hand. "The deputy took the cruiser."

"I still don't get how it started." Boone pulled Lucy to him with an arm around her waist. "There are stacks of leaves everywhere this time of year. Why would the ones in Aunt Gert's back yard ignite?"

"Because someone lit them." Tom's voice sounded calm and furious at the same time.

Lucy thought she might have fainted if Boone hadn't been holding her. The pain in her ankle seemed far, far away, replaced by a sense of dread and guilt. She didn't know what the latest fire had to do with her, but she hadn't known with the others, either, and still they had occurred. She should have left after the car fire. If she wouldn't have stayed, this wouldn't have happened. Gert wouldn't be in the hospital. Kinsey wouldn't be gone. She sobbed before she could stop herself, and Boone held her closer, his lips brushing the top of her head.

Tom spoke again, still the voice of reason, still with that anger whistling through the reason. "Let's sleep on it. Everyone is safe for the moment. The deputy will patrol through the night. I'll be back here tomorrow at-what time was that adjustor coming tomorrow, Micah?"

"Ten."

"Just hold off on everything until then. Everybody get some rest." Tom wiped an arm over his sooty forehead. "Jack? What are you still doing here, son? Your mom know where you are?"

The boy kept on raking. "She's workin'. It's not a problem. She'd want me to help Mrs. Taylor."

"That's good, Jack." Crockett's voice was heavy. "Aunt Gert will appreciate it, but you need to go home. We'll get started on this again tomorrow, and we'll welcome your help then."

"But I can-"

"No." Boone was never stern-his idea of being authoritative was not sharing his tuna sandwich with Kinsey-but his tone brooked no argument. "This day needs to end, Jack. One of us will take you home. Tom, can we go into the house long enough to get a change of clothes?"

They could, going in the front door and feeling like thieves in the shadowy house. After an exhausted discussion about who would go where, they divided by gender. Lucy went home with Kelly. Boone and Crockett drove to the bed and breakfast, agreeing to drop Jack off on their way.

"This has grown up a lot since we were kids." Crockett looked around at the cookie-cutter ranch houses in Twilight View, the neighborhood where Jack lived. "The honchos who owned the brewery also owned the land this development was on. It used to be like three streets, all named something beer-related. Long Neck Lane and Tall Cool Avenue and-what was the other one, Boone?"

"Six Pack Street," Jack supplied from the back seat of Gert's SUV. "That's where I live. The new roads are tree streets, like Elm and Maple. I guess some people thought that made the neighborhood sound more respectable-like."

"Micah lived on Long Neck," Boone remembered. "Everybody called it the Bowery in those days, when it wasn't nearly as nice as it is now. The trees were all shorter than I am and about three inches around and there weren't any sidewalks or curbs. Do they still call it that, Jack?"

"Yeah, but my mom was all excited when we moved here-we'd always lived in an apartment before. I didn't know Mr. Walker was a Bowery rat, though. He seems all professional and educated. Slick."

Boone snorted. "He's educated, all right, and professional too, but not a bit slick. I think not being slick is what won him some major journalism prizes before he came back to Taft."

Crockett turned onto Six Pack. "Which house, Jack?"

"The one on the end with red shutters and the garage turned into a family room. Ma calls it a Cape Cod, but I think it's just a box."

A sign was in the front yard of the pretty little house. The property was being offered for sale by a Lawrenceburg mortgage company. Boone exchanged glances with Crockett but didn't comment. Even he, a fiscal idiot and fairly oblivious to what went on in the world around him, knew what the sign meant. It didn't happen a lot in Taft, but even the utopian little town didn't remain untouched-the house was in foreclosure.

It also seemed lonely. Not empty precisely, or even neglected. Just...lonely.

"Is anyone here, Jack?" The grimness in Crockett's tone drew a sharp glance from Boone.

The kid's sixteen. He's old enough to stay by himself. Let it go, Crockett. You don't have to be Father Noah right now.

"No. I told you, my mom works nights. She won't get home till about eight. And you know where my dad is. Everybody knows that."

Boone remembered how hard it had been just telling people his parents were dead. Because every time he said it, he had to know it again-there was no pretending they were just away for a while and would be back in time for the ball game or eighth-grade graduation or Kelly's eleventh birthday party at the ice skating rink. He couldn't imagine being a kid and having to tell people his dad was in jail. It had been awful enough that everyone felt sorry for him. Having them be suspicious of him -mentally visiting the sins of the father on the son-would have been even worse.

"Where are your little brothers?"

The boy hesitated. "Staying with somebody right now."

His voice sounded like a toothache feels. Crockett's question had hit a nerve.

They let Jack out of the car in his driveway. Boone was sure Crockett shared his reluctance to just drop him off, because they started to speak at the same time. Boone gestured for him to go ahead, and Crockett said, "You sure you'll be okay? You can go with us. We'll text your mom and let her know where you are. Well, I will. I don't think Boone knows how to text."

The attempt at humor fell flat. Jack's face and voice remained grim. "I'm fine. I stay alone all the time while she works. I'm a big boy."

"We're big boys too." Boone leaned over to meet Jack's eyes. "But the truth is Aunt Gert will kick some major a.s.s if we don't watch after you. Lucy will help her because I think she's become the big sister you never had and probably never wanted. Crockett pretends he's not scared of them, but I know better. You're coming to help at the house tomorrow, right?" He glanced at the clock on the dash. "Well, later today?"

"Yeah. I'll be there."

"Keep track of your hours," Crockett advised. "You'll get paid."

"Jesus! Sorry, Father, but...Jesus! Mrs. Taylor's been great to me. Can't I just help her?"

"Sure you can. And she'll appreciate it." Crockett spoke quickly, in a soothing Father Noah voice. "See you tomorrow, Jack. Sleep well."

They waited until Jack was inside to back out of the driveway. Boone frowned at the house as they drove away. "He didn't turn any lights on."

"I don't know if they have any lights."

"d.a.m.n. Lucy's been worried about him all summer, and Kelly's driven herself nuts trying to take care of him without him knowing it." Boone had spent guy-time with Jack, treated him with careless affection, but he hadn't gone out of his way to learn about the inner workings of the kid's life. All kids' lives were a mess, weren't they? Not only that, they didn't generally thank grownups for trying to fix the messes, either.

Boone wished he had. Even if Jack had told him to b.u.t.t out, he wished he'd tried.

"Kelly's hands are tied." Crockett's defense was sharp and instant.

"I know. She knows it too, but sometimes, more often lately, I think, the real Kelly Brennan-the one we used to know-shows up." Boone chuckled, thinking of his sister. "I like it when she does. I like her."

Crockett was silent for so long Boone thought he wasn't going to respond. It wasn't until he pulled Gert's car into the curved driveway of the bed and breakfast that he spoke. "Yeah," he said, his voice morose, "me too."

Chapter Eighteen.

Kelly's condo was lovely, with large rooms and acres of hardwood floors. Lucy would have been afraid to sit on the furniture even if she'd been clean, which she most decidedly was not. "I'm afraid to take a shower here," she said, standing in the doorway of the guest bath Kelly showed her to. "What if all this soot clogs the drains?"

"We'll call a plumber and say we have no idea where all the crud came from, since I'm as filthy as you are."

Kelly smiled at her and Lucy marveled that even with the dreadfulness of the night, it was one of the most genuine expressions she'd ever seen on the beautiful face.

Twenty minutes later, they met back in the living room. Kelly handed Lucy a cup of tea. "With any luck, we'll get to sleep before daybreak and no one will call before at least ten."

As if in direct response, Lucy's cell phone rang.

"I just wanted to hear your voice, even though it does sound like you swallowed gravel," Boone said. "You feeling all right? How's your ankle by now?"

"I'm fine." She turned her leg to check its mobility and had to stifle a gasp of pain. "It's a little swollen and a lot bruised. I kept trying to wash the dark off because I thought it was soot. But it doesn't hurt much." A little white lie never hurt anything. "You and Crockett okay?"

"We're good. At least, he was when he went to his room."

"How about Jack? He's never very talky, but he was even less so tonight...last night...whatever this is."

"Kid's got a lot on his plate." He hesitated. "Lucy?"

She sipped the tea, feeling the warmth wash through her. It made her feel boneless and seemed to turn the stressed exhaustion into a tiredness that was calm, nearly pleasant. "Hmh?" she asked drowsily.

"I know you didn't have anything to do with the fire at Aunt Gert's. We all do. You're not having any weird thoughts in that direction, are you?"

"Born to Run" played in her mind again, Springsteen's voice softened and mellowed by the influence of the tea-what had Kelly given her anyway? Lucy had to force her voice to work. "I don't know." She sipped again, her exhausted body enjoying the languor that was stealing its way into her limbs. Even the throb in her ankle dulled. "I don't know," she repeated. "We need to get some sleep, Boone." Her voice had the same clear enunciation Gladys Vojtasek's used to get when she stayed after work and shared a bottle of wine with Johnny.

Great heavenly days, was she drunk?

"I know." G.o.d, she loved his voice. "Sleep tight, Lucy Goosy."

"You too," she whispered. I love you.

When she'd disconnected, she frowned over at Kelly. "What on earth is in this tea?"

"It's some stuff Bridget-my secretary who knows everything-gave me to help me sleep. It's all natural." Kelly grinned at her. "I asked Maria if it would hurt you on top of the pain meds she gave you. She said it wouldn't, but that you might feel just the slightest bit inebriated. Appears as though she was right."

"No, she was wrong. I think I'm three sheets to the wind. I could probably get arrested." Lucy finished the tea, which was most likely a mistake but it tasted really good. "Of course, maybe I should be arrested. I don't know how I could be responsible for the fires, Kelly, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Tears-she didn't know where they'd come from-dripped from her cheeks, dampening the front of her tank top.

Kelly sat beside her on the leather sofa, her arm coming around Lucy's slumped back. "It's not you, Lucy. I don't know who it is or why it is, but it's not you."

As far as eloquence went, the succinct statement didn't have much to recommend it, but the guilt that sharpened the edges of Lucy's mind waned for the first time in what seemed like days. When she climbed into the queen-size bed in Kelly's elegant guest room, she fell asleep so instantly she didn't even say the prayers that had been a habit since she'd knelt beside Siobhan Dolan every night.

She was grateful when she woke that "the slightest bit inebriated" hadn't left her with even that much of a hangover. Kelly handed her a mug of steaming coffee. "What's in it?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just coffee," Kelly promised. "I called the hospital while you were in the shower. Aunt Gert had a pretty good night, but I don't think Sims did. Either way, Maria said she's keeping her another night. Boone and Crockett will meet us at the house."

The two men were already working when they arrived, tearing scorched siding off the back of the house and arguing loudly about the proper manner for doing so. Jack loaded the debris into a wheelbarrow and transferred it to the Dumpster already in place at the edge of the property.

"You can go inside," Boone called from a point halfway up an extension ladder. "Power's been turned back on-no wiring damage. Adjuster's already been here. Tom was with him. He'll be back soon."

"We'll work inside." Kelly exchanged nods with Lucy. "Jack, make sure those two don't fall off those ladders, okay? Aunt Gert will blame Lucy and me if they do."

"And rightfully so," Boone said.