dawn. He hadn’t slept worth a flip for thinking about the investigation and wondering how his brothers would react to the sight of him. Not that he cared…
And then there had been the fantasies about a certain sexpot blonde that had plagued him all night long.
After their drink, he’d walked her to the inn where they both were staying. Adding more fuel to the flames of his imagination, he learned she was in the room right next door to him, so they’d shared an awkward but titillating moment in the hallway as they’d said good night. Awkward because he’d damn near forgotten his head and kissed her. Titillating because he’d sensed she’d wanted it as much as he had, and that she would have let him.
Then they would have ended up in bed for some mind-blowing sex—at least that’s where the kiss had led in his fertile fantasy—and he would have at least felt sated, if not rested.
Now he just felt irritable and restless.
Because nothing had happened.
He showered and managed to find a razor, wishing he’d had time for a haircut, then cursed himself for worrying about his appearance. He didn’t give a damn what his brothers thought—or anyone else in town.
Grimacing, he dressed in his normal Ranger wear: clean jeans, a white Western shirt, boots, belt and tie. Determined to prove he was a top-notch Ranger himself, he pinned on his badge and grabbed his Stetson and the folder of notes he had collected on the first investigation of Lou Anne Wallace’s murder sixteen years ago. Then he headed to that diner he’d seen last night, to pick up some breakfast before he met the McKinney brothers and the local deputies for a briefing. If he was here to track evidence in the woods, he needed food and coffee, and lots of it.
After all, he had a big advantage over his half brothers. He wasn’t personally attached to Jim McKinney or anyone else in town.
A BLOODCURDLING SCREAM pierced the air and forced thirteen-year-old Joey from her peaceful sleep.
Her mother.
She threw the covers aside, jumped up and ran to the door. But when she swung it open, a thick plume of smoke curled through the hallway. The scent of charred wood and fabric hit her. Oh God, the house was on fire!
Her father…no, daddy was at his house .
She had to get to her mother…but where was she?
And little Justin?
His room was downstairs next to her mother’s.
Joey ran through the fog of smoke, feeling for the banister to help guide her, coughing and choking as she made her way to the door of the nursery. Flames licked the walls in the kitchen and crawled along the floor in the den. The curtains erupted into a ball of fire and sparks flew from the ceiling. Wood crackled and popped, splintering as the table collapsed into flames.
Her mother was already awake, standing at the crib.
Joey’s eyes stung from the smoke. “We have to get out of here!”
Her mother spun around, eyes wild with terror, a crazed expression on her face. “Where’s my baby? What did you do with him? You were supposed to watch him for me!”
Joey’s heart pounded as she rushed forward to check the crib. Little Justin was not inside. Panic stabbed at her chest, robbing her of air. Where was her baby brother? Had he crawled out? Could he be somewhere in the house?
No, please no, the fire…it might have gotten him already. Or he might have inhaled too much smoke…
Her mother jerked her by her pajama shirt and shook her. “Where is he, Joey? Where’s my baby? What did you do with him?”
“Mom! I don’t know. Let me go.” She yanked her mother’s fingers away. “I’ll look for him.”
The scent of liquor permeated her mother’s breath. “Tell me what you did with him!”
Joey’s heart wrenched. “I put him to bed…he was here.” A sob racked her, and heat scalded her face. The fire was slipping toward the hall. They had to get out.
“Please, Mom, call the fire department. I’ll hunt for Justin!”
Her mother threw her hands in the air. “No! He’s gone—he’s not here! Someone took him, I know it!”
“Mother, call the fire department. We need help! And get Rosa!” Joey frantically searched the room and closet to see if Justin might have hidden inside. But no Justin.
Outside, a siren wailed, indicating that someone had phoned the firemen. Probably Rosa. Thank heavens. Now, if she could just find her little brother…
But she couldn’t search with her mother in hysterics, so she dragged her into the hallway. The kitchen was engulfed in flames. She couldn’t go that way. The front door was smoky, the flames licking at the wall casing and rippling a path of fire in front of it. Her heart racing, she glanced around the room for her baby brother, but didn’t see him. Maybe he was in the playroom upstairs.
Suddenly Rosa raced into the hallway, a stricken look on her face. “Hurry! Out the window in my room!”
“We can’t, we have to find Justin!” Joey screamed. “Take Mom outside. I’ll look for him!”
She shoved her mother toward Rosa, and her mother crumbled in Rosa’s arms. Joey lurched toward the steps to search upstairs, but firemen crashed through the front, spraying water. Chaos erupted. One of the firemen grabbed Rosa and her mother, and another one ran toward her.
“Come on, this house is going down!” he yelled. “You can’t go upstairs! No time to save your things!”
“My baby brother…we can’t find him!” Joey cried.
The fireman gently coaxed her toward the other man. “Get out of here now! We’ll find the boy!”
JOEY JERKED AWAKE and sat up, sweating and shaking. Tears rained down her face, the familiar guilt and terror gripping her full force.
The chaos. The firemen hacking away the window, breaking glass. Pushing her mother, Rosa, then her outside. Them collapsing on the lawn and watching in abject shock as the flames engulfed room after room and the house collapsed in front of them.
The firemen eventually appearing through the haze of smoke and debris, looking dazed, frustrated, sorrowful.
Their arms empty. They hadn’t found Justin.
Then her father had
