“Vera, honey, wake up,” Randall whispered to his wife.
“Sir, we need to get her to a hospital,” one of the medics said. “Her blood pressure is dangerously low.”
Randall nodded. “I’m going with you.”
“You need to be examined yourself,” the medic replied.
“At the hospital,” Randall insisted. “First, take care of my wife.”
Ellie momentarily froze, memories flashing in her mind. Family Christmases, with twinkling icicle lights on the house, Santa on the roof, carolers in the yard.
Other special times together. Her mother making hot chocolate and bringing it to her in bed when she had a cold. Crafting a superhero costume at the last minute when Ellie refused to wear the princess dress Vera had chosen.
When had she forgotten there were tender moments among the battles with her mother? Moments where Vera almost put aside her desire to impress the ladies in her social world and simply let Ellie be a child. Moments before teenage angst and rebellion had set in. She hadn’t been the easiest of kids.
There were times she’d waded in the creek and caught frogs and come home all muddy and excited, her hair full of pine straw, and Vera had ushered her into the bath without worrying about her polished floors and gleaming crystal.
Gathering her composure, Ellie finally found her voice. “What happened?”
Her father’s hand shook as he threaded it through his hair. “Someone threw a pipe bomb into the living room and through the bedroom window. It exploded and the place went up quickly.”
“Did you see who it was?”
“No.” Frustration hardened his voice. “Probably one of those protestors. They’ve been pretty riled up.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She’d seen their anger firsthand. Right now, though, she needed to remember whatever details she could. “I saw a man running into the woods behind the house. I gave chase and caught up with him, but he got away.”
Bryce had been talking to one of the firefighters but joined them in time to overhear the conversation. “Did you recognize him?”
Ellie shook her head. “He was wearing a hoody and ski mask, but I think I scratched his chin.” She spread her hands in front of her, palms up. “Hopefully I got his DNA.”
Bryce’s jaw clenched. “I’ll get my kit to take samples to send to the lab.”
“You know it could be Paulson,” she continued. “I saw him at the café earlier. He seemed furious over the possibility of the charges against Dad being dropped.”
Her father’s breathing was erratic, his eyes growing glassy. Just a few short weeks ago, he’d been shot by Hiram and nearly died. Now he was facing this.
“You should go to the hospital and be examined,” Ellie said. “I’ll make sure the ERT and arson investigator are thorough.”
“Ellie,” said Bryce gently. “Go to the hospital with your folks, and get yourself examined, too. I can handle it here.”
Ellie swallowed against the emotions crowding in on her. Bryce almost sounded as if he cared. “There are women’s lives at stake,” she said. “I need to work. For all we know, the Weekday Killer may be the same man who set this fire. And he may already be holding his next victim somewhere.”
“Why do you think it’s the same person?”
“Because of those personal messages. Maybe it’s his way of punishing me for the deaths of those little girls. He hates my parents and me.”
For a brief moment, Bryce’s gaze locked with hers and she thought she saw concern. “You should have told me.”
She shrugged. Confiding in the sheriff was the last thing she’d do.
When she didn’t respond, his look hardened. “I’ll get my kit.” Bryce squared his shoulders and walked back to his squad car.
“The Weekday Killer contacted you personally?” Ellie’s father asked, his brows furrowing.
“Yes,” Ellie said, and that was just the tip of the iceberg.
“Jesus, Ellie,” her father said. “You almost died on that last case. Are you trying to get yourself killed now?”
The sound of an engine rumbling up the drive made Ellie turn toward the approaching vehicle. WRIX Channel 5 news. As the van stopped, the cameraman and Angelica hopped out, making a beeline for Ellie.
She couldn’t deal with the press at the moment, so turned, following her father toward the ambulance, determined to escape. Bryce was in his element. He could handle Angelica.
She had police work to do. And angry as she was with her parents, she had to make sure they were all right.
The roof and walls of their home had collapsed and the furniture inside was turning to rubble and black ash.