Die Before Nightfall Read online

  “Maybe. I’m not sure what it is. I only know that if I can give her a measure of peace, then that’s what I’m going to do. Come on, let’s get some aspirin in you. Then you can sleep for a while. We’ll have the doctor come back tomorrow and swab your throat.”

  “If I protest, will you do it instead?”

  A hint of blush stained Raven’s cheeks, and Shane wondered if she were more aware of the chemistry between them than she let on.

  “Take your medicine and go to bed,” she ordered.

  “My room’s down the hall. If anything happens, come get me.”

  “All right.”

  She smiled, the gesture warm and sweet.

  “You’re beautiful when you smile like that.” He leaned down and let his lips slide along the cool skin of her cheek. Then he turned and left.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For a moment Raven stood frozen in place, her hand against her cheek. She was letting Shane get too close, letting him break down the defenses she’d worked hard to erect. If she wasn’t careful she’d be hurt again.

  Or maybe not. Maybe Shane would prove to be all the things he seemed—kind, sweet, just a little impatient, too determined for his own good, able to love and be loved, and knowing the value of both. She shook her head against the thought, unwilling to dwell on something she didn’t dare believe.

  Merry padded across the threshold and Raven scratched the puppy behind her ears, forcing herself to focus on other things. She glanced around the room. The furniture was light oak, the colors bright and bold. She could imagine Abby picking the color scheme, the style, even the braided throw rug that partially hid the gleaming wood floor. Now those same things, chosen with such love and eye for detail, had become unfamiliar to her. What must it be like to slowly lose yourself? To look in the mirror and not know the face staring back at you?

  Merry whined as if sensing the sadness in the air. Then she settled by Raven’s feet, letting out a grunt of protest and shooting Raven a look filled with reproach.

  “Sorry. These things happen. I know it’s not your comfy little puppy bed, but the floor’ll have to do for tonight.”

  And the chair would have to do for Raven. She grimaced and shifted in her seat, her eyelids heavy. She’d been wide-awake a few minutes ago, but now, with Abby’s even breath whispering through the room, she felt tired.

  “Can I get you anything, Ms. Stevenson?” Renee spoke from the door, her voice breaking the silence and sending Raven’s heart into overdrive.

  She spun to face the woman, surprised that she hadn’t heard her approach. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Is Mr. Montgomery trying to rest?”

  “Yes.”

  “He seemed tired earlier. I offered to sit with Abby while he slept, but he didn’t want her with someone she didn’t know.”

  “It’s better for patients like Abby to have familiar people around them.”

  Renee shrugged, all the compassion and concern she’d shown earlier gone. “I doubt it really matters to Mrs. Montgomery. You look tired. Go on home. Things are under control now.”

  Raven didn’t like the tone of the other woman’s voice. Nor did she like being ordered to leave. “Mr. Montgomery wants me to stay. I agreed.”

  “Suit yourself. I brought Abby some pudding. If she wakes, you should try to feed her. It won’t do for her to get any thinner.” She placed the bowl on the bedside table and left the room.

  “Odd woman.”

  “Mean.” Abby’s eyes were open and she stared hard at Raven. “Don’t eat the cake. It’s poison.”

  “Actually, it’s pudding. Would you like some?”

  “Where’s the book?”

  “Which book?” Raven glanced at the table, saw nothing but the pudding, pitcher and empty plastic cups.

  “I had to do it, you know. It’s in the book.” She pushed up from the bed, her frail body swaying as she stood.

  “Whoa. Slow down, Abby. You can’t afford to fall and break something.” She put a hand on the older woman’s arm and steadied her.

  “We have to go find it before it’s gone.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the boat.”

  “I don’t think you have a boat.”

  But Abby wasn’t listening. Instead she moved across the room, white hair flying around her pale face, her eyes focused on some point beyond the door.

  Raven hurried after her, not knowing where Abby was heading, not sure she should be allowed to go—even less sure that she should be stopped. “Where is the boat?”

  “Outside.”

  Raven put a hand on Abby’s arm, pulling her to a stop at the top of the stairs. “Let’s wait until the sun comes up.”

  “I can’t wait. Don’t you see?” Her eyes beseeched Raven, begging for understanding, for help in the task she’d set for herself.

  And Raven didn’t have the heart to deny her. “All right. Let’s go.”

  There was no sign of Renee downstairs, which was probably a good thing as Raven wasn’t sure she had answers to any questions that might be asked. Like why she was bringing a sick patient outside at three in the morning. Raven grimaced. The fact was, she wanted Abby back in bed, tucked under the blankets and sleeping. If going outside for a few minutes would ease whatever drove the woman from slumber, then it would be well worth the trouble. But more than that, it would give Abby the right to choose, to think through what she wanted and go after it, without someone telling her no. By allowing her choices, Raven could give Abby back a small portion of the dignity her disease had stolen.

  Abby didn’t speak as they walked out into the night. She just moved like a wraith around the side of the house and across the few yards of grass that separated the house and the garage. She pushed open the side door and stepped through into darkness.

  Raven followed, reaching for Abby’s hand, wanting to keep close. “Be careful.”

  Inky blackness surrounded them and seemed to steal the oxygen from her lungs. She ran her hand along the wall, searching for a light switch, finding nothing. A hanging cord? Raven had never been in this part of the garage and wasn’t sure if it was empty or filled. She tugged at Abby’s arm, urging her to stop.

  “Is there a light in here?”

  Abby didn’t respond, and in the silence a soft sound slid through the night. A shuffle of feet against pavement, a soft click, the rustle of fabric. Raven turned toward the sound, expecting to see Shane or Renee silhouetted in the doorway. Instead the door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the garage.

  “Was that thunder?” Abby’s arm trembled beneath her hand, and Raven tugged her closer as she turned toward the door.

  “No. The door closed. It’s okay. Probably just the wind.” Except there wasn’t any wind tonight. Not even a soft breeze had broken the stillness as they’d walked to the garage.

  Raven turned the door handle and shoved at the door, but it held tight. “It’s stuck. Let’s find a light and see if we can figure out the problem.” The words were calm, but Raven felt the hard edge of fear.

  “A light? Here.”

  Raven let Abby lead the way through the darkness, then sighed with relief as a light burst to life.

  “The boat.” Abby rushed toward a covered vehicle.

  “Abby, we need to go back to the house. Let’s get the door open.”

  “Look.” She pulled off the cover, revealing the long, black car beneath.

  And that’s when Raven smelled the smoke. It hung on the air, the acrid scent filling the room. “Abby, come on!”

  She tugged Abby toward the double-wide garage door at the front of the room, placed her hand on the metal lock mechanism, and jerked back, but the heat of it was so intense she knew her fingers would blister.

  “We can’t get out this way. We’ll have to get the other door open. Stay beside me. Don’t move.”

  Panic made her voice sharp and her hands shake as she fumbled with the door, struggling to turn the handle. It didn’t budge. She
shoved her shoulder against it, slamming her weight into it, praying the old wood would give.

  “Fire!”

  Abby screamed the word and Raven saw flames licking at the front walls, scorching a path along dry wood.

  She rammed harder against the door, felt Abby’s frail weight move with her. Thick smoke swirled around them, making every breath a burning torture.

  “The stairs.” Abby again, screaming instructions as her hands clawed at Raven’s shirt, pulling her away from the door. Away from escape.

  Some instinct urged her to go, to follow Abby through the garage to a dark corner that led nowhere. “The stairs are outside.”

  “And inside.”

  “Where, Abby? Where?”

  But Abby was spinning away, coughing, running across the room back toward the car. “The book. We have to have the book.”

  “No. We have to get the door open. Abby…”

  But she’d dived into the car, was fumbling with the backseat as Raven grabbed her around the waist and struggled to pull her from the car. Flames snaked along the walls.

  “We have to get out. Are there stairs, Abby? Abby!”

  And Abby spun, no longer fighting, something clutched in her hand, her eyes wild. “Somewhere. A door.”

  Where?

  Please, God, please let me get her out of here. The prayer shouted through Raven’s mind as she tugged Abby back through thick smoke, toward the side door. There were no windows on the lower level of the garage. No escape. Was there another door? One that led to stairs and the upper level? She felt along the wall, struggling to find her way through the gathering darkness, her feet leaden, despite the panic that surged through her.

  There, in the corner, opposite the spot Abby had brought her a few moments ago—something smooth and round. A doorknob. Raven turned it, prayed the door would open, prayed they’d make it up the stairs and outside before the entire garage was engulfed in flames.

  She coughed, choked on hot air as the door gave, and she and Abby stumbled into the narrow stairwell. “Come on, Abby. We have to hurry.”

  But there was no hurrying, only plodding steps. Up. Up through more smoke, out another door, into the kitchen. Half dragging, half carrying Abby through Shane’s office. The door locked, blocked as she pushed against it. Then the window. Shoving it open, glancing down at the cool night, the grass, the flames shooting up through burning wood, lapping at her feet. Knowing it was jump or die. She took Abby’s hand, pulled her close and looked into her eyes.

  “We have to go out the window. It’s our only chance.”

  Abby nodded, and a glimmer of the strong, intelligent woman she’d been sparked through the haze of uncertainty and terror.

  Shane raced out the back door of the house, shouting into his cell phone, calling for help. Merry yipped and barked at his feet. Her cries had woken him from a sound sleep, woken him to the smell of smoke and the harsh crack of burning wood.

  Where were Abby and Raven? Where was Renee?

  He rounded the corner of the house, hoping to see them, and instead saw flames shooting up from the roof of the garage. The grass felt cool under his bare feet as he raced across the yard and into heat so intense he fell back. He righted himself, tried to see through the smoke. Something white fluttered in the garage window. Abby, white faced, leaning out. Raven behind her.

  “Abby! Raven!”

  Raven heard. Turned. Shouted something.

  And Shane ran, ignoring the heat and the flames licking at the grass near his feet. “Jump. The whole place is collapsing.” He could hear it, the creak and groan of wood warning of what would come.

  “Catch her and run.” Raven shouted as she lifted Abby, her movements strong, fluid, calm as she held Abby’s hands, let her feet drop over the edge so Shane could grab her legs. He caught her, slid her to the ground.

  “Run! Run!” Raven was scrambling out the window, yelling, her voice hoarse from smoke, terror loosening her grip.

  Shane caught her as she fell, stumbled, managed to ease her down. “Was Renee with you?” He shouted over the sound of the fire.

  “No.”

  “Let’s go!” He lifted Abby and ran. The air crackled and fire roared behind them. A deafening crash split the air. A blast of heat. Shane was flying, falling, tumbling with Abby in his arms. Then he was up again, running, sirens screaming through the darkness, cool air replacing heat. He turned, expecting to see Raven. She was gone.

  “She all right?” The words were a panicked shout.

  Shane turned, saw Sam Riley racing across the grass, his granddaughter beside him. He eased Abby onto the ground, saw her eyes flutter open, then shouted to Sam and Tori, “Stay with Abby.”

  Then he ran back toward the flames, praying he could find Raven amidst the wreckage.

  “Raven!”

  “Here. I’m here.” She tried to shout, but only a whisper escaped. Her throat, raw and hot, would release no more than that. Flames ate at the debris that lay around her, and she pushed aside smoldering wood, barely feeling the pain of seared skin as she freed herself and stood.

  A dark figure lunged through flame and smoke, and she lurched back, afraid, disorientated.

  “No. This way.”

  She knew the voice, reached for Shane’s hand, following him through the rubble, past the blasting heat of the fire, and out into cool, clean air. She shivered, swayed, felt Shane’s arms wrap around her.

  “Thank God.” He whispered the words against her hair, and she closed her eyes, letting him support her weight. “You okay?”

  Raven tried to say yes, but her teeth were chattering too hard and she could only nod against his chest.

  “Someone bring me a blanket.”

  Shane pulled a blanket around her arms. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.” She managed to rasp out the words and forced herself to take a step back. It would be so easy to let him take care of her. Too easy.

  Soft wails filled the silence and drew Raven’s attention to Abby. The woman sat on the ground, Sam and Tori Riley on either side of her, the small book she’d taken from the car clutched to her chest, her face pale and streaked with soot.

  “Abby, are you all right?”

  Raven knelt beside her, ran hands along her frail arms, turned her hands up to check for burns.

  Tori grabbed Raven’s hands, stilling their frantic movement. “She’s okay. Sit for a minute, take a breath. Let’s see how you are.”

  “I’m okay.” But she sat back anyway, coughing, shaking, willing her heart to slow its frenzied rhythm.

  People milled around her. Men, women, paramedics, firefighters, police—all shouting, running, moving, their motions dizzying. Raven closed her eyes against the onslaught of images, felt someone kneel beside her, slide a hand into hers and squeeze gently. She opened her eyes, saw Shane, and tried to smile.

  “I guess there really are gallant knights.”

  “And beautiful damsels in distress.” He ran a hand along her cheek. “Soot-covered beauties, but beauties nonetheless.”

  “Shane—”

  “You doing okay, Raven?” Jake appeared and crouched in front of Raven, his eyes blazing in a face as hard as stone.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Abby woke, said she needed to get a book. I asked where it was and she said the boat. She seemed agitated. I thought if we found it she’d be able to sleep. I should never have let her come outside.”

  “This isn’t your fault.” Shane’s voice was sharp, and Raven saw the look Jake shot in his direction.

  “What happened after you went in the garage?”

  Raven hurried through her account, trying to calm the tremors that ran through her body, wishing she’d never stepped outside with Abby. Jake listened, nodded a few times, but didn’t interrupt. Nor did Shane, though he did drape an arm around his aunt’s shoulders, drawing her close. Raven couldn’t stop the longing that stabbed through her, the desire to be hel
d, to be comforted, to have someone’s arm around her.

  She forced her gaze away from Shane and Abby, and focused on telling Jake the rest of what he was waiting to hear. “That’s it. I opened the window and was trying to figure out how to lower Abby to the ground, when Shane saw us.”

  A man stepped forward as Raven finished speaking. “Sheriff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Looks like you were right.”

  “Arson?”

  “Evidence is all there. Wasn’t even an attempt to hide it.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Guess we’ll know more when the fire is out. Thanks, Bill.”

  “Arson? That’s impossible. Who’d want to burn down an old garage?” Raven could hear the weariness in Shane’s voice. She felt weary, too, and wished for nothing more than a shower and her bed.

  “Good question. Though a better one might be, ‘Who’d want to kill one of the women inside it?’”

  “What do you mean?” The question escaped, but Raven didn’t need to hear the answer. It made sense. The slammed door, the fire, all three exits blocked.

  But who was the target, and why?

  Raven glanced at Shane and saw anger in the hardness of his face and the brightness of his eyes. Despite the emotion, his skin seemed pale, and she placed a hand against his cheek, checking for signs of fever. Then realized what she was doing and dropped her hand away.

  He caught it, held on as he moved to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Looks like the fire’s out. Let’s check with the fire marshal, see if we can go in the house.”

  “Good idea. Stay here. I’ll talk to him.” Jake moved away, his stride long and purposeful.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Shane turned to Raven and leaned in close. “Is someone after you?”

  “What?”

  “Could someone be trying to get even with you? An old boyfriend? A patient? Anyone?”

  Something hot and bitter stabbed at Raven’s heart. She stiffened, tugged away from Shane’s hand. “Do you think I’d put Abby in danger if there was?”

  Shane knew he’d made a mistake. An unintentional one, but a mistake nonetheless. He hadn’t meant to sound accusatory. Judging by the expression on Raven’s face, he had. “That isn’t why I’m asking.”