Theo firmly cut off his escalating thoughts, shoving out any what-ifs and firmly blanking not only his mind, but his emotions. He’d gotten pretty good at that over the past few months. His cool shell was firmly reassembled as he stepped over the threshold, quickly checking right then left before entering the house.
What a pit. Theo couldn’t believe someone lived there. It’d been empty for at least five years—and looked it. The previous owners hadn’t done much in the way of maintenance, either, and the final result was a house that needed to have a date with a bulldozer.
“Police!” he called into the open, still-smoky hallway. “Anyone here?”
There was no response, so he took a couple of steps inside. The remaining smoke tickled his throat and gave the old place an eerie cast. Theo held back a cough. He walked down the hallway, checking in each room he passed, but except for a few items—a bright-green beanbag in the living room, an old chest in the library, a cheap drinking glass with awkwardly cut flowers mashed into it on the windowsill in the dining room—the house was empty. Empty and smoky and wrong. With Jules’s SUV out front and the door open, she should be here. He automatically unsnapped the top of his holster, resting his hand on the butt of his gun. He felt his muscles tighten with each new empty room he saw.
The smoke was lightening, but a haze still lingered, dimming the light struggling to find its way through the windows. There was an almost-closed door on his left, and he pushed it open. The hinges protested with a squeal, but the door reluctantly swung to reveal an empty, old-fashioned bathroom. He continued down the hall, his imagination going wild again with thoughts of what could’ve happened. Had Jules’s past caught up to her?
The thought of something happening to Jules made his stomach clench, and he moved more quickly. As Theo got closer to the final door on the right, the one he was fairly sure was the kitchen, he finally heard people. Multiple loud voices piled on top of each other, making it difficult for Theo to hear what anyone was saying. Pausing next to the entryway, keeping his body hidden from whoever was in the kitchen, he listened, trying to pick out individual words.
“…if he comes back!” a child’s voice wailed, rising above the babble of the others. Theo’s muscles tightened. Who was “he,” and why was the kid so upset at the thought of this man’s return?
“…long gone…” Theo barely made out a few words from Jules, but he was certain it was her speaking. The rest of what she had to say disappeared into the cacophony of sound, and the short phrases Theo was able to pick out only confused him more. Someone mentioned an ignition point, and the child shrieked something about making someone homeless, and another person stuttered in a deep, male voice about clean up. Theo frowned, the term “clean up” leading him to think about corpses. All his earlier fears for Jules rushed back, and he couldn’t hesitate any longer.
Theo surged into the kitchen.
A small crowd of people—young people—huddled around the ancient stove, ignoring the light stream of smoke that still drifted from it. No one was looking at Theo, and he immediately dropped his hand from where it had been resting on the butt of his gun. The sight of all the kids made him feel a little sheepish for overreacting.
“What’s going on?”
The entire group jumped as if he’d given them an electric shock, all of them turning to stare at him with expressions that ranged from fear to wariness. Upon closer observation, he confirmed that they were kids, ranging in age from ten or so to late teens—the oldest being none other than his squirrelly waitress. Her hair was caught in two braids, and a smear of black ran across her right cheek. Even smudgy, she was hot.
Not liking the prickle of emotion she woke in him, he looked at the stove.
“Is the fire out?” he asked when it appeared that no one was going to answer his initial question. When they still didn’t say anything—instead staring at him, stock-still and wordless—Theo shifted his weight impatiently and reached toward his radio with the hand not holding his gun. “Do I need to call in the fire department?”
“No!” several of the kids, including Jules, chorused in unison. He kept hold of his radio, since the threat of Fire seemed to have brought everyone back to life. Theo could sympathize with their reluctance. Sometimes—a lot of times—firefighters could be a pain in the ass.
“It’s out,” Jules said, taking a step toward him and positioning her body between Theo and the kids. Her slight figure wasn’t much of a barrier, but there was something in the way she held herself that reminded him of a fierce mama bear. “There wasn’t really a fire. It was more…” She waved a hand toward the stove, as if what had happened was written on its ancient surface.