Page 10 of Serial Burn

If there was a third...

Jesslyn peered out the window, her eyes scanning for any signs of movement. Or the dark sedan. But the world outside was still—the only movements the leaves rustling in the gentle wind and the bird on the ground looking for his worm. “Go farther south, little dude. You’re running late.”

The peaceful scene did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest or the heaviness in her steps as she wound her way back to her room to get ready for the day. Someone had burned her church down. Mr. Christie had a long recovery ahead of him. If he lived to make it. He had great doctors and protection on his room to give him the best chance possible. That was all they could do.

She shook herself. She needed to throw off the emotional lethargy weighing her down. She had work to do.

Her phone buzzed just as she stepped into the bathroom. Lainie.

Jesslyn put her on speakerphone while she readied her toothbrush. “What’s up?”

“How’s the investigation going?”

“It’s in the infant stages at the moment. I’m heading to the lab this morning, hoping to take a look at the evidence and see if that sheds some light on things. How’s Mr. Christie?” She started brushing.

“Hanging in there. I checked on him about twenty minutes ago and I think there’s some minor improvement. Minor enough not to get our hopes up, though.” A pause. “Are you brushing your teeth?”

Jesslyn spit. “I am.”

“Oh. Okay. Glad to know you still do that.”

“Haha. You called just as I was getting ready so...”

Lainie gave a chuckle that ended on a sigh. “Let me know how the investigation goes. I’m praying that you get the guy fast before ... well, before.”

Before he hit another place and hurt someone else. Or worse. “Yeah. Me too. Thanks for the update on Mr. Christie. I’ll talk to you later.”

She hung up and finished getting ready, checked the time, and bolted to her car.

Thankfully, the trip to her aunt’s home was uneventful, and she pulled into the drive of the familiar ranch-style house in a middle-class neighborhood a little after eight. When Jesslyn had gotten the fire marshal job, her aunt decided to stay in Lake City. Right smack in the middle of the other two girls—one in Canada and one in Florida. And now, once a week her aunt liked to do breakfast. She cooked a whole smorgasbord for the two of them and they caught up on life. This morning would have to be quicker than their usual more leisurely meal.

Jesslyn opened the front door and stepped inside to the yummy scent of pancakes, bacon, and more. “Aunt Carol? I’m here.”

Her aunt had done a big remodel not long ago. To the left was the dining room, to the right was the kitchen, and straight ahead was the living area. Off that was a new sunroom and screened porch with a well-manicured lawn and more plants than Jesslyn could name.

“Carol?”

The sunroom door opened and her aunt walked in, shrugging out of her coat. “Hey there, hon. Good morning.”

“Hey.” She kissed her aunt’s cheek and marveled that the woman could pass as her sister even though she was in her midfifties. Her jeans hugged trim hips and her sweatshirt hung baggy but comfortable on her upper body. She’d pulled her dark curly hair into a ponytail and topped off her outfit with her signature baseball cap.

“Come on in and let’s eat. I’m starved.”

Once the two of them had their food, they said grace and dug in.

“Okay,” Jesslyn said, “I have something to run by you.”

“Go for it.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. You’ve told me lots of stories over the years about my parents and their desire to make a difference in their community.”

“Yes. True.”

“And you told me that before they died, they were talking about building a youth center.”

Carol’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“I know I’ve mentioned it in passing, but this time I’m serious. I want to build that center.”

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