Lisa Phillips - Witness In Hiding

He took the exit. He could drop her a few streets over from the house her sister had rented with cash, and he would never know where she was headed. So long as he didn’t follow her. She’d have to be careful.

Jude said, “I really want to take you back to the office. You have no idea how badly I want to do that.”

Zoe nodded, whether he saw it or not. She knew he’d locked the rear doors of the SUV while she’d been laugh-crying. She hadn’t been oblivious.

“Maybe you should.” It was tempting. So tempting. “But you should know, the last time I talked to the police I was followed home that same day. I never heard from the officer again, and I didn’t want to call him if he was the one who betrayed me. After that, I went to my local church. I guess I figured at least God would be on a minister’s side.” She shook her head. What a mess. “No one can help me, Jude.”

“Maybe I can.”

“I can’t trust you with what I know. As much as I want to, I can’t tell you what I saw—” She slapped a hand over her own mouth to stop the flow of words.

“Why get in my SUV if you don’t want my help?”

“I don’t even know what I want.” Maybe that was a lie, maybe she wanted the connection of someone else in the world—apart from her son and her sister—knowing she was here and that she needed help. Just knowing.

Jude frowned, but headed in the direction she indicated. Ten minutes later he pulled into the neighborhood behind the one where the house was located. She could cross the park behind this street and cut through to the street behind.

“What is...”

She glanced over and saw him peer through the passenger window to a cloud of smoke. Zoe cracked the door and a waft of burning wood hit her nostrils.

“Fire.”

THREE

Zoe practically dived out of the car and set off running down the street. Jude got out and locked the car, then chased after her as she ran down an alley between two houses.

He pursued her toward the fire. Her house? Did she know if there were people inside?

At the end of the alley, he stumbled off the sidewalk onto grass. The fence gave way to an open space. Trees and a playground. Jude had spent many Friday nights hanging out at parks just like this as a rebellious teen, pushing back against his father, a pastor. He’d excelled at doing what everyone said was wrong and had the scars to prove it.

Zoe tore across the park like everything she loved, or cared about, was in danger. Was she married? She had no ring, but some people didn’t wear one. She could have a husband or boyfriend at home, though in his opinion no man worth anything sent a woman into a dangerous situation alone. And that was exactly what she’d done. Zoe had walked into—and out of—that Laundromat by herself.

Jude didn’t know whether to be impressed or exasperated by her.

He followed Zoe until the source of the smoke was in view, a tiny square house whose peeling paint was now melting from the siding. She raced down the sidewalk, and he knew what she was going to do. It would be so tempting to go inside and try to save whoever she had left behind. To play the part of hero, instead of waiting for the fire department. But it was too dangerous—the fire was too advanced.

He pumped his arms and legs and caught up to her just as she was about to cross the grass. Jude grabbed her. Before she could wriggle out of his grip, he wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t. You can’t go in.”

Hot wind blew at them as the flames licked at the house. All around the outside it was on fire. “Let me go!” She kicked her legs, but Jude didn’t release her.

“You can’t save them.”

“I have to. Tyler—” She grunted, and struggled against him.

The knowledge she had a man in her life stung, even though there was nothing between them. “The fire department—”

“Let go of me.” She kicked at his shins.

A neighbor ran over. “I hooked up my hose.” He thumbed the end and the pouring water sprayed in an arc.

Jude wrestled with Zoe, but she kicked him again. Then elbowed his side. He sucked in a breath and released his grip only a fraction, but it was enough for her. Zoe broke free. “Aim for the front door,” she ordered the neighbor. “I have to get Tyler out.”

She raced for the wet, scorched door. Jude ran with her. Zoe reached for the handle with her bare hand.

He yelled, “No!”

She turned to him, her gaze as scorching as the fire. “I’m going in and you aren’t going to stop me.”

“That handle will burn the skin off your hand.”

Before she could bluster, or do anything else crazy, he kicked the wood beside the handle. The door splintered, but the lock remained intact. What on earth?

He checked the lock without touching it. A black substance had been poured inside the mechanism where the key would be inserted. To keep whoever was inside from getting out?

Jude shuddered. Zoe stepped up beside him, and he said, “Be careful.” If she was going to risk her life, then Jude would go with her and make sure she didn’t get hurt simply because her instinct to protect this Tyler overrode her common sense.

He held her elbow as she clambered over the broken door. Inside was thick with smoke. Jude unbuttoned his shirt, thankful his father had instilled in him the need for an undershirt, and ripped it in two. He handed half of his dress shirt to her.

“Tie this over your nose and mouth.” He couldn’t help adding, “This is reckless. You aren’t a firefighter, are you?” He was pretty sure she wasn’t. A firefighter would have known about the handle.

“I’m not a firefighter.”

“Then we should go outside. This is crazy.” They couldn’t even see anything, and yet Zoe knew where she was going. “Is this your house?”

She shot him a look, then yelled, “Tyler!” A second later, she yelled, “Ember!”

Who was Ember? “Who are we looking for? They probably ran out back when the fire started.”

“Tyler is my son.” Zoe made her way down a hall. “Ember is my sister, and she was watching him.”

“Your son?” He looked around. The outside had been far more burned than the interior seemed to be. The fire still raged, and yet in here there were no visible flames. It was like someone had doused every wall and door of the exterior and set it ablaze. Inside was scorched and hot, but not burning. Had Zoe’s family been trapped inside a house burning down from the outside?

He shivered. “How old is Tyler?”

“He’s seven, but he’s tall for his age so everyone thinks he’s older.” There was a note of pride along with the worry. “I hope they got out. I do.” She coughed. “But we can’t wait to check while they could be suffocating in here.”

“Instead it’s us who are suffocating. Firefighters have equipment for this.” He choked out the words through his raspy throat, but she wouldn’t be swayed. “Thirty seconds. If you don’t find them, I’m getting us out of here whether you agree or not, Zoe.” He paused. “Is that even your real name?”

“Of course it is.” She pushed open a door with her foot. A master bedroom. “Tyler. Ember.” Zoe moved to the closet. Door open, empty. He followed her to the en suite bathroom. The curtain had been pulled down and discarded and the shower was running.

A squeak came from Zoe, and she rushed over. Jude followed to see what had caught her eye, and saw as she did the two huddled in the bathtub. Both soaking wet, a young woman with dark hair was curled around a little boy. The woman had a nasty burn up the outside of her arm.

Zoe crouched. “Tyler.” She touched the woman’s cheek. “Em.”

Jude reached down and pressed two fingers to the woman’s neck. She couldn’t be more than nineteen. This was Zoe’s sister?