Dead Giveaway

I didn't have to stop, drop and roll: I only needed the roll part. Trouble was, I was facing the back of the unit. Rolling would only take me left or right and not away from the fire, and its heat was already making me sweat.

I quickly turned over onto my back and sat up. Pretty damn easily, too. Bless you, Jeff, for getting me in shape, I thought, as I scooted on my butt out of that place.

I'd made it all the way to the A units when Burl found me. Thank God he didn't ask questions. He just uttered, 'Damnation,' before cutting me loose. Ever the careful cop, he took a Baggie from his pocket and stashed the plastic cuffs inside before pulling me to my feet. Then we ran.

Flames were flicking into the sky by the time we reached the entry gate. Burl helped me into the passenger seat of his Land Rover and called 9-1-1. The station must have been close, because we heard sirens almost immediately and the first fire truck pulled in only minutes later.

They had a swipe card—probably fire code regulations or something—and drove their truck in. Burl spoke to the cops who'd come barreling in on the heels of firemen and then returned to me.

He pulled a bottled water from the back floorboard. 'Here. Drink this.'

I twisted open the top and drank greedily.

'We need a paramedic for you, Abby?' he asked.

'No. I have a busted lip and a bruised ego, but other than that, I'm fine.'

'Were you in B-109 when the fire started?' he asked.

'Yes. And I am so sorry, Burl. I—'

'How's your breathing? You inhale any smoke?'

'I got out of there pretty fast, so I'm really okay,' I said.

'Good. Now what the hell do you think you were doing, girl?' The anger had finally surfaced, and I couldn't blame him. I was pretty mad at myself.

'I know I should have waited for you, but—'

'You got more buts than an acre of monkeys. You could have been killed.'

'But I wasn't,' I said. 'And you know something? That's weird. He had a gun. He could have put a bullet in me.'

'Maybe he thought you'd die in the fire.'

'He left the door open, Burl. He knew I could get out. He didn't want me. He wanted to destroy that place.'

Burl nodded in agreement. 'Makes sense, and from the looks of that fire, we may never know what was so important.'

'I saw some of it. Had a little flashlight and—oh, no.'

'What?'

'My car keys. They're in there.'

'Don't count on finding them anytime soon,' said Burl, looking up at the black cloud hanging over us.

* * *

After I filled in the cops and the firemen on everything that happened, Burl drove me to Kate's place so I could get a house key. I'd lost that, too.

On the way, I explained everything I could remember about the inside of the unit, and Burl said he'd get with the firemen tomorrow about examining whatever could be salvaged from the fire. As expected, Burl had a warrant to search the contents, and I guess that still counted even if there was nothing but ashes left. I called Jeff, but got his voice mail, so I didn't leave any message aside from asking him to call. Some things you do not leave as a recording.

I rapped on Kate's back door. She must have been in the kitchen, because she answered right away.

'What happened to you?' she said, focusing on my fat lip. She pulled me inside by the wrist, and I winced. Plastic cuffs are brutal, I'd learned.

She looked down and saw the red abrasions. 'Oh, my God. Where have you been? Who hurt you?'

'I'll explain everything, but I will need my house key before I leave. Lost my car keys, too, but I have a spare at home.'

She put an arm around me and gently led me to the kitchen barstool. 'You need help getting up?'

'I'm fine, Kate.'

'I have something to help heal your lip, so—'

'Do I have to drink it? Because I'd rather have coffee than drink any of your—coffee! Yes. I want a huge mug of dark, strong coffee.'

'You're not making sense. You've been saying for the last week that you might never drink another cup of coffee in your life. Were you hit on the head or—'

'Go get your magic potions and fix me up, doc. Then I'll explain.'

After my lip had been slathered with goo and some different homeopathic ointment had been applied to my wrists and ankles, I told her everything over freshly brewed Starbucks Kenyan. It tasted so good, and I was thankful my coffee aversion had ended. Near-death experiences tend to make you appreciate what's important in life, I guess.

'Verna Mae had created a shrine to Will?' Kate asked after I told her what I'd seen tonight.

'I can't think of a better word. She must have gone there and prayed for him, what with the kneeling rail and candles. But with the picture of Sara Rankin there, too, she obviously knew way more than she let on when Will and I visited her—the visit right before she was found beaten and shot. I'm wondering now if that's why she called to meet with me that Friday— to tell me about Sara.'

'How did Verna Mae learn what's been so hard for you to discover?' Kate asked.

'She knew from the beginning, is my guess. Knew exactly whose baby had been left in her care.'

'Left by Sara? I'm confused. I thought she died in May and Will was born in the fall.'

'I'm guessing Sara died during childbirth or right after, not in a fall. The Rankins had that service in December because they knew she was dead.'

'And they gave the baby to Verna Mae?' she asked.

'I don't know.'

Kate said, 'Maybe Sara did fall. She could have been in a coma from a head injury. I've heard of comatose women being kept alive so they can deliver at term. What if her parents pulled the plug on life support after Will was born? Are they the type who would do that?'

'I can't answer that. I only know that something, maybe something more than grief, drove the pastor to the edge. Could his grief be mixed with guilt for pulling that plug?'

'Certainly. Especially if his religious teachings told him to keep her on a machine and he didn't,' Kate said.

'Okay. That makes sense. Now, is there a connection between the Rankins and Verna Mae?'

'Maybe she attended their church,' Kate said.

'I never explored that possibility,' I said. 'It's on my to-do list now, though.'

Kate stared at me, her coffee cup held between her hands. 'I'm still confused. Why would the Rankins manufacture such an elaborate cover-up before Will was born?'

I explained my theory about their daughter being a sinner. 'I think they would have been humiliated and embarrassed by Sara's behavior, don't you?'

'From all you've told me about them, yes.'

'There's more, Kate. Verna Mae is dead because she knew something I don't. At least something I don't know yet.

'I'm worried, Abby. Please turn this over to Jeff? You got lucky tonight, but—'

'This is my life, now. This is what I do. A woman died an awful death. Lawrence Washington has been sitting in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Someone set him up, and that has to be made right. For Will, for Thaddeus and for Joelle Simpson.'

Kate leaned over and took my face in her warm hands. 'Okay. I understand.... But please be careful, Abby.'

The call from Jeff woke me at three a.m, so I knew he'd heard about the fire or he would have waited until morning.