Page 13 of Wynns of Change
Dismissing it as a guest, David finished his walk, backtracking past the lodge. He noticed the lights were on in the manager’s unit.
Because Ginger was typically an early to bed, early to rise person, he was surprised to see the lights blazing brightly through the clerestory windows. She had mentioned working on a project during dinner. When pressed, his wife had pointedly changed the subject.
The flash of bright light beamed again, followed by a metallic clanking sound. Thinking someone might be lost or need help, David changed direction and began following the light. As quickly as it flashed, it was gone. He wasn’t able to track it down, so he finally gave up, returned home and climbed into bed.
He fell fast asleep until the sound of an alarm and sirens woke him. Bolting upright, he ran to the window.
“The lodge!” Flames filled the skies around the inn’s main building.
A surge of adrenaline ran through him. David raced toward the stairs, nearly colliding with Harlow in the hallway.
“The lodge is on fire! Where’s Mom?”
“I’m not sure.” He flew down the stairs and flung the front door open, stopping in his tracks at the horrifying scene unfolding. Fire. Flames. Smoke.
“Dad.” Harlow pushed past him and repeated her question. “Where is Mom?”
David started to feel lightheaded. Ginger. Ginger was inside the lodge. As if in slow motion, he ran down the street. Cuttingthrough the gardens, he raced toward the building. As he drew closer, the flames and smoke forced him back.
Sucking in the thick smoky air, he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Ginger!”
Unable to see clearly in the dark, David tripped and fell. Scrambling to his feet, he took off toward the unit’s side door. Once again, the fiery inferno forced him back.
Small clusters of guests huddled off to the side. The fire alarms wailed loudly. Water from the lodge’s sprinkler systems was no match for the massive flames.
Fire trucks, alerted by the automated sprinkler system, arrived within minutes. Forcing himself to focus, David took a headcount of the guests. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach when he discovered Ginger wasn’t among those who had escaped.
During the chaos, he’d lost track of Harlow. Working his way around the building, he finally found his daughter. She stood near the covered patio, as close as she could get to the unit her mother was in. Dazed and with a stunned look of disbelief etched on her face.
“Did you find Mom?” she whispered.
“Not yet. I can’t get close.” David took off again, thinking by some miracle Ginger had made it out. More than once, he tried getting inside the unit. Each time, the firefighters and flames forced him back.
He kept circling around and around, praying for a miracle, desperately searching for a spot the fire hadn’t touched yet, until there was no hope left. Wynn Harbor Inn was now fully engulfed.
David’s steps dragged. He moved in slow motion in the direction of the covered patio where he knew Harlow stood waiting, hoping and praying for a miracle.
Chapter 7
David finished his story. “That’s exactly how I remember it. The flames. The inferno. The rescues. Everyone made it out safely except for Ginger.”
“This is the first time I’ve heard you mention seeing lights the night of the fire,” Harlow said.
“And hearing a clanking sound. It didn’t seem important and maybe it isn’t, because it wasn’t out of the ordinary. The inn’s guests wandered around at all hours. Late night walks, early morning strolls, being up to watch the sunrises and sunsets.”
“Did the investigators think to ask the guests if they saw anything?” Harlow asked.
“Everyone was questioned. No one, not a single soul, mentioned noticing anything suspicious.”
She shifted her gaze back toward the rubble, cautiously inching forward until she stood facing the grand foyer. To the left had been the check-in desk. To the right was the hallway leading to the main floor rooms. Straight ahead was the massive stone fireplace. Beyond the fireplace were the doors to the restaurant, the patio’s expansive seating area and the pool.
She wiggled her toes, frowning at her sneakers. “I’m not dressed to start digging through what’s left, but maybe soon.”
“I’ve poked around in there, Harlow. I didn’t find anything…any sort of clue, although I wouldn’t even begin to know what to look for.”
“Maybe we should hire a professional investigator, a fire investigator.”
“I’ve thought about it. The fire chief and his team went through the place with a fine-tooth comb. It could be a waste of money.”
