Page 26 of Shielding His Heart
I nod to where Zeke is pacing. “On the phone with the fire marshal. May take a couple hours for them to show up.”
Walker can only shake his head.
Arson.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen the evidence myself. This wasn’t any ordinary fire. There were signs of objects placed in front of the entrances to the gym, which would block the ability to fight the fire, and the sprinkler systems that remained operational had been tampered with. There was also evidence pointing to multiple points of origin.
Who in the world would want to burn down a place like the Old Gym? It has no other significance aside from being a place of fond memories for the people of Battleboro. Unless it was some kids doing dumb shit or playing a prank. But that’s a hell of a prank.
Then Remy walks out, ashen and grim-faced. He sprays his face with water and says, “Found a body in the back. Must have been in a closet. Think it may have been some homeless person who camped out there. Cops get reports of people using the place for it all the time.”
“Shit,” Walker and I both say.
“You sure?” I ask.
“Damn near fell onto it, so I’d say yeah. I’m pretty fuckin’ sure.” Remy drinks deeply from his water bottle.
* * *
It’s nearly three in the morning when we wrap up with cops and hand over the scene to the fire marshal to begin his investigation. Finding the body made a complicated night even more so. Not only had a landmark of Battleboro—one of the few remaining after the storm—been destroyed, but an innocent life had been taken.
You get desensitized to death by doing what I do, but some cases hit you right in the gut. For me, for whatever reason, this was one of them.
I climb into my truck, exhausted from exertion, lack of sleep, and emotionally wrecked. The first thing I do is check my phone, which I hadn’t had the chance to glance at since I got to the scene.
1:15 a.m. Tana:Wasn’t able to get ahold of your mom, but the girls are still asleep.
1:48 a.m. Tana:Gemma woke up and puked everywhere. Google says to clean her up and give her sips of Gatorade. We didn’t have any Gatorade, so I gave her water.
2:13 a.m. Tana:She’s crying that her stomach hurts and I didn’t know what to do so we sat in a warm shower until she felt better.
2:15 a.m. Tana:Gemma fell asleep in the shower. I guess I’m stuck here.
2:37 a.m. Tana:Paisley just joined us in the bathroom and threw up all over the floor. I hosed her down in the shower.
2:48 a.m. Tana:Now they’re both crying in the shower because hearing Paisley throw up made Gemma wake up and puke again
I’m equal parts worried and amused. I can almost hear Tana’s voice from the text messages. I make a pit stop at a twenty-four-hour gas station and grab the necessities: Gatorade, ginger ale, popsicles, and saltine crackers. I won’t be expected back at work for a few days, so we can hunker down for the duration of this stomach bug.
It’s half past three by the time I pull into the driveway. The top floor lights are blazing bright, so I load up my arms with the bags of supplies and fight with the key in the dark.
When I get upstairs, I hear a low-throated moan coming from the girls’ shared bathroom. I find the three of them curled up on the floor. Paisley and Gemma are on either side of Tana, their heads resting on her lap. She has one hand on each of their backs, rubbing soothing circles.
“Daddy,” Gemma moans without moving so much as a muscle. “We don’t feel good.”
I kneel in front of them, taking in Tana’s bruised under eyes and pale complexion. “I see that, doll face. What happened?” I ask Tana.
“I think they got most of it out of their system. At least for now. Your parents never picked up. I tried them again, but the girls really weren’t feeling well.”
“Thank you for taking care of them. Sounds like everyone had a pretty rough night.” I push back to my feet and wet two washcloths with cool water. The girls make identical sounds of relief when I press them to their foreheads. “Why don’t we get you guys in bed, and we’ll try to get some sleep?”
“What about school?” Paisley croaks.
I shake my head. “No school, sweet pea. Not until we make sure you’re both all better.”
“Is everything okay with you?” Tana asks softly so the girls don’t hear as I help them to their feet. She stands and does a little stretch that does all kinds of intriguing things to her breasts underneath the thin cotton shirt.
“As well is it can be. I’ll tell you more about it later.” A pang of grief for the loss of the part of our relationship where she’d comfort me after a hard call hits me as I shuffle the girls to their room to change and brush their teeth.
