Page 66 of Hold Your Breath
If she hadn’t been so exhausted, Lou would’ve laughed. Instead, she just concentrated on dressing without falling. She was tempted to forgo brushing her teeth, but soot seemed to have settled into every corner of her being, including her mouth, so she grabbed the toothbrush she’d used the last time she’d stayed there. By the time she opened the bathroom door, the floor was tilting, reminding her of the drugged whisky.
That, in turn, reminded her of the fire and her terror and the murderous figure in the doorway. Callum must have been waiting for her, since he scooped her up before her legs could fold beneath her and carried her to his bed. Even with all the horrors of the night churning in her brain, her body was done. Lou fell asleep seconds after he tenderly placed her on the mattress.
* * *
Daylight made it so much worse.
The sun made the new snow sparkle wherever it lay, covering mountain peaks in the distance, lining tree branches and fence wires, turning the landscape into a postcard. It made the wreckage of her former home look even more bleak and pathetic. Lou had thought she’d be able to scavenge a few things, buteverythingwas gone, destroyed once by fire and a second time by water—both from the hoses and the snow. She wasn’t even able to look at the charred shell of her truck.
“There’s nothing left here,” she said as Callum laid a hand on her lower back. Heat seeped through her coat to her spine, offering comfort. It was painful to look at the remains of her cabin and know that it had almost heldherremains. If it hadn’t been for Callum… She shivered. “Let’s see what the sheriff and Winston have to say, and then we can go.”
The chief and Rob were standing a discreet distance away, far enough to give her some privacy, but close enough to intervene if she started messing with their crime scene. Straightening her spine, she hoped it was enough to move her from “pathetic victim” to “stoically enduring survivor.” From the expressions on the two men’s faces as she approached, she doubted her efforts were successful.
“Lou,” Early greeted her, examining her closely as if checking for fire damage or an impending breakdown. “How are you?”
“Hanging in there,” she said with a tight smile. It was only the partial truth, but if she shared any more, she’d start blubbering again, and no one wanted to see that.
“Good,” the chief said approvingly before giving the man next to her a nod. “Callum.”
Rob cleared his throat after Callum returned Early’s greeting. “Looks like arson.”
She’d been expecting tear-inducing commiseration, so Rob’s all-business attitude was a relief. Callum’s hand, still on her lower back, tightened into a fist around a handful of her coat.
“The first ignition point was your bed.” Early kept shooting wary glances at her, as if checking her reaction to his words. “It appears to have been soaked in accelerant, most likely gasoline, and then ignited. Gas was also poured over the floor in the bedroom and living room, as well as along the base of the walls. The second ignition point was in your kitchen. That’s a pretty common occurrence with amateur arsonists—two ignition points. They figure the more the better.”
“So this person broke in first? He was in my house with me?” The idea made her stomach want to turn inside out. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, Lou could feel the tension radiating from Cal.
The sheriff nodded. “Did you lock the door last night?”
“Yes, I always do.” She had a moment of doubt and paused, trying to remember the actual act of locking the door after Cal left the previous evening. She turned to Callum. “I did, right?”
“Yes.” His voice contained the confidence hers lacked. “I heard you lock the door.”
“I suspect the arsonist entered through the bedroom window,” Rob said. “It appears the glass was struck by something rather than exploding from the heat of the fire. I’m sending pieces of the broken glass to the state lab for testing, as well as items they can test to determine what accelerant was used.”
“If it wasn’t gasoline, I’ll eat my shirt,” Early said.
The sheriff shot him a look. “We have to do definitive scientific testing—you know that, Winston. Otherwise, it’ll all go to hell once we get to court.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the chief grumped. “Just saying. Been doing this for thirty years. I know what I know without some lab geek telling me how to wipe my ass.”
If Rob had been just a hair less controlled, Lou was pretty sure he would’ve rolled his eyes.
A sheriff’s department squad vehicle eased through the snow and frozen mud that had once been Lou’s yard. Chris hopped out of the SUV and hurried over to them.
“I was just talking with Lou’s neighbor, Terry Buck,” he said as soon as he got close enough to be heard. His words were rushed, as if he was excited about something. “A few minutes before he saw the fire and called it in, Terry passed an unfamiliar car headed north on thirty-six. A”—he pulled a small notebook from his coat pocket and flipped it open—“dark-colored BMW sedan with Connecticut plates.”
Lou swayed, feeling hot and then cold. She knew that car. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The four men all stared at her, startled.
“What a vindictiveasshole.” Her voice, still hoarse, gave out on the last word. “I can’t believe he would do this.” Even as she spoke, though, she knew that wasn’t true. Faced with the evidence, shecouldbelieve it. He’d always had a temper, especially when he didn’t get what he wanted. And ever since she was sixteen, he’d wantedher—or at least the benefits a relationship with her would bring him.
“Uh, Lou?” Chris was the first one of the guys to speak.
“What?” she snapped, and then immediately felt bad. “Sorry, Chris. I’m just so…argh!” Anger and betrayal cut off her ability to form words.
“I take it you recognize the car?” the sheriff asked.
