On Fire(45)

Columbo. The German shepherd lay beside her on the floor in an unknown bedroom. The room was shrouded by drawn curtains and cloaked in eerie quiet.

She rolled to the side and managed to prop herself up with an elbow. The room spun and her stomach roiled. She fought off a wave of nausea, knowing she’d choke with the gag in her mouth. Leaning against the side of the bed, she sucked in air through her nose like a swimmer too long underwater. Her gaze fell on a badge lying on the floor near an antique dresser.

Chris’s sheriff badge.

A chill moved through her as she remembered his angry voice intruding on her conversation with Jim just before she’d lost consciousness.

Darcy managed to sit up, her gaze falling to the standard-issue handcuffs on her wrists. Chris’s cuffs. Fear settled like a rock in her gut.

She jerked as she heard a door open somewhere in the house, then close, followed by heavy boot steps crossing hardwood floors, increasing in volume as they drew closer. The doorbell rang and they paused.

Struggling to her knees and then her feet, she was frantic to get to the door and get help.

The bell rang again and the screen door creaked open. Knocking ensued.

“Miller? It’s Deputy Cameron.”

The sound of Jared’s voice brought tears to her eyes. She was fumbling with the knob to the door when it opened. Stumbling backward, she fell onto the bed. Relief poured through her when Jim stepped into the room.

Then she saw the gun in his hand.

“Make a sound,” he said softly, “and I’ll shoot Cameron as he comes in. Understand?”

Outside, Jared knocked and called out again. Tears coursed down her face, her brain trying to process the feverish brightness of Jim’s eyes. She’d never seen him look that way, never had him eye her coldly as he was doing now…

“He can’t come in here without a warrant,” Jim said calmly, as if he weren’t brandishing a deadly weapon. “If you’re quiet, he’ll leave and live another day.”

It seemed like an eternity before Jared gave up.

Darcy’s lungs heaved for breath, spots swimming before her eyes.

Jim raised the gun to point at her chest. “After everything I’ve done for you…Damn it. It breaks my heart to have to kill you again.”

* * *

JARED STARED AT the police cruiser parked at the curb in front of Miller’s house and shoved a hand through his hair. He called the station and asked what kind of personal vehicle the sheriff drove.

Trish stood on the sidewalk with her hands on her hips. “Miller is hugely territorial, but we get a suspect in custody and he bails?”

“He knows something we don’t.”

“You like him for this? The fires or the vet? Or both?”

He went to the cruiser and set his hand on the hood, feeling the heat that told him the car had very recently been driven. “Do you?”

“No.” She looked at the house. “I’m not keen on Quinn, either.”

“Let’s run by Ralston’s.”

As they pulled away from the curb, the unsettled feeling in his gut grew. He dialed Darcy’s phone again.

DARCY LIFTED HER gaze from the barrel of the gun and looked into Jim’s eyes. Fear slithered through her veins like ice water, chilling her to the bone. She flinched when he stepped closer.

“Scream and I’ll shoot you.” He released the ball gag with one hand.

Flexing her aching jaw, she asked, “What are you doing, Jim? Where’s Chris?”

“Thinking about taking up with him again? After he blew you off like a whore?”