The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,64

tossed her armload of stuff inside, drove two blocks away and parked. Fire trucks and police cars screamed by her, and as she looked back over her shoulder, fire had completely engulfed the lower floor and flames were shooting up fifty feet or more over the roof. She could hear the whoosh and crackle from where she sat, watching as a window of her apartment blew out.

She had her cell phone as well, and she immediately dialed Sunny. Weeping hysterically now, Cass said, “Come quick. Chili Witches is on fire! Hank and I are okay.”

Holding her steering wheel in a death grip, Cass fought to calm herself. What else? What else bad could happen? Her nerves were stretched to breaking.

More police cars and fire trucks screamed by, and great streams of water poured over the fire, but the inferno raged on. Cass pawed through the items she’d been able to save, hoping for clothes to put on. The closest thing she found was the blue chenille throw from the couch. She’d saved her laptop, her tote of color samples, a painting her mom had done that had hung near the door, and one left shoe. A red high heeled sandal.

The sum total of her belongings was what she had in her car. The little stuffed cat, all her clothes, the box of medals and memorabilia from high school and college, her furniture, her jewelry—everything was gone. Everything.

But she was alive. Hank was alive. Stuff could be replaced.

But Chili Witches… She choked on a sob.

Cass got out of her car and locked it, carrying with her only her phone, her keys and the chenille throw, and walked back toward the conflagration, where flames and glowing embers licked the sky and drank the gushing streams of water.

SUNNY PASSED HER ON the way and screeched to a stop at the curb. Jumping from her car, she ran to her sister. “Oh my God, Cass. Oh my God.”

They hugged each other and sobbed.

“What happened?” Sunny asked.

“I don’t know. The downstairs was already burning and my apartment was getting smoky when Hank managed to wake me. Did you call Mom and Aunt Min?”

“Yes. I told them not to come, but they’re already on their way.” She looked down at Cass’s feet. “Where are your shoes?”

Cass shrugged.

“Wait a minute. I think I have something in the trunk.” Sunny ran to her car and popped the back. She returned in a minute with her gardening boots. “This is the best I can do.”

“Sold,” Cass said. She brushed off her feet and stuck them into the boots. Pulling the chenille throw around her shoulders, she trudged with her twin toward the fire.

Police had blocked off the area, so they couldn’t get too close, but they saw their mother and aunt, disheveled and distraught, running toward them.

“Are you okay?” Gloria asked. “What happened?”

Cass shrugged. “I don’t know. It obviously started somewhere downstairs—either at Hooks or Chili Witches.”

Holding each other, the four of them watched the building burn.

“My stars and garters,” Gloria moaned, shoving her fist against her mouth. “I can’t believe it.”

Tears trickled down Aunt Min’s face. “Oh my, at the memories burning with that place! It’s gone, isn’t it?”

Sunny nodded. “No way to save anything. They can only keep it from spreading to surrounding buildings.”

GRIFF COULDN’T SLEEP. He hadn’t been able to since Cass left. He stood at the window, staring at a spot to the west of the capitol grounds where he knew Chili Witches stood. Because of buildings in the way, he couldn’t see the actual structure or Cass’s apartment, but he knew exactly where it was.

He frowned. A bright glow lit the sky where he looked. Was that a fire? His pulse kicked into overdrive. Could it be Chili Witches? Cass!

He had to find out if she was okay. It was three o’clock in the morning, and there wasn’t a chance in hell she would answer if he called.

In record time he laced on his running shoes, stuck his keys and wallet in his pocket and hurried downstairs. As soon as he hit the street he could hear the sirens and smell the fire.

Panicked, he ran toward the activity, his long strides eating up the pavement. The closer he got, the more his panic grew. Oh, hell! It was Chili Witches! He prayed and ran faster.

The area was blocked off and hoses poured water onto the roaring, raging flames. He tried to get through but was stopped at every turn.

“Cass!” he yelled, running around the