A Chance Encounter (14 page)

The bottle landed just inside the window, fire erupting in sheets as the gasoline spewed outward. Near hysteria, Katie ran back to the desk. There was sufficient light from the flames to illuminate her way. She tore a fingernail off, trying to open the middle drawer. The keys. The keys! A second scream caught in her throat as another Molotov cocktail came hurling through the window. Katie ducked, gagging and choking on the smoke as the fire spread quickly to the wall of books. Another explosion occurred behind her. Katie whirled around. She was now caught between two walls of flame!

Clenching the keys, Katie ran down the narrow aisle between the flames. Just as she made it to the rear classroom she tripped, striking her head on the edge of the desk. The keys slipped from her numbed fingers, and she sank to the carpet, unconscious. The fire continued its licking path across the carpet toward her….

Taylor’s eyes widened as he pulled around the corner. A dull orange glow rose eerily against the darkness. Terror sheared through him as he slammed down the accelerator. The vehicle lurched forward. Katie! The whole building was on fire! Taylor saw fire engines streaking toward him. Their sirens wailed mournfully, their red-and-white lights stark against the wet pavement. The Toyota squealed to a skidding stop and Taylor leaped out, running hard down the sidewalk. People had started to gather, openmouthed and stunned. The sirens grew closer and louder. Taylor tore off his jacket, holding it over his nose and mouth as he took the wooden stairs to Katie’s apartment two at a time. Anguish stabbed through him. He’d seen too many fires, too many arson-related tragedies. Smoke could kill. Taylor coughed violently in the thick, grayish smoke at the top of the stairs. Katie was inside! She could already be dead. Smoke and heat always rose during a fire. Had the fire eaten through the floor of her apartment yet? Was she still alive?

“Katie!” he thundered and put his hand on the doorknob. He jerked his seared hand back. Locked! The door was locked! Hadn’t he told her to keep it that way? Taylor sobbed for breath, digging frantically in his pocket for the key. It was dark, except for the flicker of the spreading fire below. He found the key and shoved it into the lock, his hand shaking badly.

He kicked the door open, keeping his jacket against his face. He screamed Katie’s name again and again. No answer! The rooms filled with gathering smoke, and he hugged the walls as he searched for her. Sweat trickled into his eyes, already tearing heavily from the smoke. He gasped as he finished his search. Katie wasn’t here! She’d said she would be! Had the man who threatened to kill Katie taken her from the apartment? Was she still in the bookstore?

Turning, Taylor heard the shouts of firefighters. In moments, they’d be hosing down the raging inferno. He ran out of the apartment and tore down the stairs.

Huge white hoses looked like fat spaghetti, throbbing as hundreds of gallons of water surged through them. Taylor halted at the front of the bookstore; it was completely enveloped in sheets of flame. The back door! He raced among the running firefighters as they began to spray the inferno. Keys in hand, Taylor ran to the rear of the building.

His eyes smarted and blurred as he worked the key into the stubborn lock. There! The door literally blew out of his hands, throwing him a good six feet backward. Dazed, Taylor crawled forward on hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it. He should have known better. Heat buildup could cause windows to blow out and doors to explode. He held the jacket to his face, moving in low and fast beneath the smoke now roiling thickly out of the opening where the door had once been.

The heat was intense; his skin smarted. His right hand was badly blistered. Crawling on hands and knees, unable to see anything, Taylor screamed for Katie. He hugged the baseboard, knowing that if he got too far from the wall, he’d become disoriented. He could die, unable to find his way out again through the thick, cottony smoke….

Oh, Lord, please let her be alive. I love her…. I love her.

“Katie!” he cried, choking badly as smoke clawed down his throat. The desk! He reached out and felt the hot oak panel. He crawled two more feet and suddenly hit a human leg…He fumbled, feeling the cotton of a shirt. It had to be Katie! Throwing aside the jacket, Taylor lunged forward, hooking his hands beneath her armpits. He couldn’t see her; the blackness engulfed them. He was barely conscious himself, the smoke stealing his breath, making him weak. No! Don’t take her from me. Please don’t! Taylor struggled to his knees and, in a superhuman effort, pulled Katie into his arms and dragged her outside. He was met by several firefighters who had just appeared around the corner, carrying hoses and breathing apparatus.

Taylor laid Katie on the asphalt, hands splayed near her head. “Get an ambulance! She needs oxygen,” he cried. As he looked down at Katie in the shadowy light, his heart shrank in terror; her face was a grayish-blue. She had been without oxygen for too long!

Frantically, Taylor placed his fingers on her carotid artery. She had barely any pulse! Quickly one of the firefighters knelt on her other side and clapped an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. Taylor gripped her hand, willing his life to flow into her, willing her to live. If she had breathed in enough of that thousand-degree heat to damage her lungs, she’d die anyway. Tears squeezed from his eyes as the firefighter worked over Katie.

Lord, not now. Don’t take her away from me. I know I don’t deserve her, but please, give me a second chance. Please
…

Katie moved slowly through gauzy layers of consciousness, aware of a strong, warm hand holding hers. As she blinked, her vision slowly clearing and she saw Taylor and Maud standing beside her bed. Tears ran down Maud’s cheeks; her hands were clasped to her breast. Katie’s gaze slowly moved up to meet and hold contact with Taylor’s anxious stare.

“Am I dead?” she croaked.

Maud laughed. A grin stole its way across Taylor’s grim countenance.

“You’re alive. I don’t think I’d have made it as an angel,” Taylor told Katie and then glanced at Maud. “Maud might’ve, but not I.”

Katie managed a slight smile, still groggy after hours of unconsciousness. She squeezed Taylor’s hand weakly.

“Don’t talk anymore, Katie girl,” Maud said, wagging a finger at her. “You’ve been out almost five hours. Lord, girl, you had us worried for a while.”

Katie was barely able to raise her lashes. “What?” she whispered hoarsely.

Taylor gripped her hand more firmly. “The fire, Katie. Remember?” He watched her cloudy eyes begin to focus. The doctor had warned them that she might block the whole traumatic episode after regaining consciousness. He had assured them she would remember more as the shock wore off.

“Oh, no….”

“It’s all right, princess. You’re alive and safe. So am I. No one got hurt, thank the Lord.”

“That’s right, Katie. Look at the bright side. Taylor saved your life by dragging you out of that inferno. The fire chief says you were lucky. Breathing in all that heat and smoke for such a long time! Humph! I told him it wasn’t your time to go—you have a lot more to do down here on this old earth of ours.”

Slivers of memory, blips of the Molotov cocktail being thrown, the shadowy figure of a man, the explosion, moved like movie frames through her memory. Katie shut her eyes. A deluge of emotion welled up within her, constricting her raw throat. Tears scaled her eyelids. Automatically, she clung tighter to Taylor’s hand. “The store,” she choked.

Taylor frowned. “Katie, just rest. The doctor said you didn’t need to hear—”

Katie forced her eyes open, staring up at him. “Tell me what happened.”

He took a deep breath, his heavily bandaged right hand closing over hers. “The bookstore…everything is destroyed.”

Her eyes widened. “N-not my apartment, too…my mother’s piano?”

Taylor winced at the pain in her scratchy voice. “Everything. I’m sorry….”

No!
Katie bit down hard on her lower lip until she tasted blood. She had worked for five years to create that apartment. And her mother’s piano—the wonderful piano that brought back so many happy childhood memories—ashes. Everything was gone. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, and she felt Taylor brush them away.

“They caught him—the guy who did it,” Taylor told her, hoping to erase some of the suffering he saw etched in her face. “He was the first man on my suspect list, the one I saw this morning. After I questioned him, he must have gotten scared.” Taylor stroked her ebony hair. It still smelled heavily of smoke. “He’s under arrest now. And you’re safe.”

Maud nudged Taylor sharply, indicating that he should take Katie in his arms. Mouthing the words ‘
Go on
!’ the older woman slipped quietly from the room.

A sob tore from Katie’s throat as Taylor leaned over the bed, drawing her into his arms.

“Come here, princess. This is
our
pain,
our
loss,” he said thickly. “I’m responsible for all of this.”

“N-no.”

“Sshhh, just let me hold you and help you the best I know how. I can’t give you back your piano or your apartment, Katie. I know how much they meant to you.” Taylor kissed her damp temple, burying his face in her hair. “All you have left is a jaded big-city reporter in the clutches of a premature midlife crisis. But I’ll be here for you, Katie, if you’ll let me. I’ll help you rebuild, or do anything you want.”

She clung to him, needing his love and the unsteady words that tore from deep within him. “Y-you’re not jaded,” she managed. “And I don’t blame you for what happened.”

Taylor eased her back so that he could look into her tear-filled eyes that were little more than wounded holes of grief. “I love you, Katie. My love can’t replace what you lost, but maybe—if you want it to—it can give you the strength to carry on.”

Her heart mushroomed with such violent joy that Katie thought she might die. The euphoria flowed through her as she met his dark gray eyes, glittering dangerously with tears. “You love me? You really do?”

He managed a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Why are you looking at me so strangely? It’s not a joke, princess. And I’m not saying it out of guilt, either.” He cradled her face between his hands. “I almost lost you, Katie. I was beside myself when I couldn’t find you in the apartment.” He shut his eyes. “As I ran back down the stairs, I knew I couldn’t picture life without you. Without your laughter, your special way of looking at things. I stopped believing in God a long time ago, back when I was working the crime beat. At least I thought I did. When I was running around the back of the bookstore, trying to gain entrance, I prayed, Katie. I told God if he’d give me a second chance and let me find you alive, I’d try to straighten out my life, my priorities.” He opened stormy gray eyes to hold hers. “It’s not important at the moment whether you…love me or not. I’m older and more experienced. When you came crashing into my life, you changed everything.” He managed a smile. “I just didn’t want to admit it at first. But the fire, and almost losing you, changed everything.”

Katie reached up to touch his charcoal-smudged cheek. She wasn’t sure who smelled more of smoke, or looked more disheveled. “Can I go home with you, Taylor? Do I have to stay here tonight?”

He leaned down, tenderly caressing her lips. “You have to stay overnight for observation. How about if I come by tomorrow morning and pick you up? The doctor said you should be ready for release by then.”

So much was happening! Katie nodded, unable to separate her joy from her loss. She tilted her head, pressing her lips to his mouth, reveling in being alive, being loved.

Tomorrow would come soon enough. And with it, she would see the destruction that the fire had wrought….

Taylor had brought a pair of his khakis and a light blue sport shirt for Katie to wear. Her face was pale as he walked her out of the hospital and to his car. The bright California sunshine streamed down, and Katie absorbed the rays like a starved winter flower. Right now, Taylor’s strength was her strength. After he had left last night, she had cried herself to sleep. But she woke up now and then, reliving the horror of the fire. The dark circles under her eyes looked permanent as she stared in the mirror this morning. She didn’t look like the vivacious Katie who flitted like a butterfly through life’s trials and crises….

She hugged her arms around herself. Taylor glanced her way as they drove from the hospital.

“Cold?”

“No. I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

Her mouth tilted painfully. “How old I feel. I don’t feel like myself, Taylor. It’s frightening.”

He placed his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. “It’s the shock. Nothing more.”

Katie rallied. “Are you sure? I feel so empty inside. As if I’m dead or something.”

“Trust me. I’ve seen plenty of victims traumatized by burglary, physical assault, rape and anything other crime you care to name, Katie. They all react the same way. They have that desolate, hollow feeling inside.”

“Does it go away?”

“Eventually,” Taylor promised. “Sooner for some, later for others.” Taylor shared a tender look with her. Katie looked fragile, and that scared him. He’d never seen her melancholy; he was used to her vibrant smile and those beautiful lapis eyes shining with the warmth of the sun. But didn’t everyone have vulnerable areas? His broken marriage had been his.

Katie’s loss of her source of income and her home was even more severe a blow. Taylor hated to talk business, but he knew they had to.

“Katie, was your bookstore insured?”

She looked away, staring blindly out the window. “I couldn’t afford to pay insurance premiums, Taylor. I barely made the mortgage payment every month. I knew I should have coverage, but I just didn’t have the money. I lost at least fifty thousand dollars’ worth of books in that fire. I owe another twenty thousand on “the building so I guess the bank will take the property and the building insurance.” Katie rubbed her forehead, willing away the tears that wanted to fall.

“How about your apartment? The piano?”

Pain ripped through her. “No,” she whispered rawly, “nothing was insured.”

“I see.” He wished he could shelter Katie from the shock of seeing the gutted building. Taylor felt helpless as he guided the growling Camry around the comer and down the street toward the spot where her bookstore had been. “There’s not much left to see, princess.” He braked and parked, glancing over at Katie. Her eyes were huge, and the remaining color had drained from her face.
Dammit
. He could do nothing to ease her anguish. He got out and opened her door, helping her out.

Katie was determined not to cry. Among the crowd on the street she recognized at least a dozen of her aging friends, people who had brought their pets to her in the past. Dr. Abrams and his red-haired wife, Toni, stood solemnly with them. They waited on her in a semicircle. Maud was with them, her face set and resolute. Behind them was a burned-out, brick shell that had once been Katie’s entire world. Now it was nothing more than a few charred timbers here and there, scattered like toothpicks by some unseen giant hand, and ashes almost a foot deep everywhere else. Even now, the debris smoldered, white wisps of smoke rising here and there from the ruins.

Taylor put his arm around Katie, drawing her close. He looked down at her, his eyes tender. “There are an awful lot of people who love you, Katie. They’ve been waiting most of the morning here for you.”

Katie tried to smile as Taylor drew her to a halt. He released her and the small crowd enclosed her. Proud, thin Mrs. Beaumont, who lived off a meager fixed income that hugged the poverty level, was the first to embrace her.

“Now, you just dry those tears, Katie,” the old woman whispered fiercely, holding Katie with all the failing strength of her eighty-nine-year-old arms. “We got all the neighbors together last night after Mr. Grant told us you were going to be fine.” She smiled and stepped back, her green eyes watering. Digging into her crocheted handbag, she pulled out a check, waving it under Katie’s nose.

“I went around last night and told everyone about what had happened to you. All of us who had ever come to you for help donated money to help you build another bookstore, Katie.” Mrs. Beaumont pushed the check into Katie’s hand. “Here, you take this. It isn’t much, but it’s a start. As we’ve already told Maud, we’re all prepared to help. Why, I’m a whiz when it comes to painting. And Mrs. Talbot says she’ll hang wallpaper. And grumpy old Mr. Evans has promised to do some carpentry for you.”

Tears blurred Katie’s vision as she looked down at the neatly typed cashier’s check from a local bank: $952.56. A sob caught in her aching throat. Most of her patients were elderly and lived on fixed incomes. They couldn’t afford to give this kind of money to anyone. More, how could she tell all these wonderful people that their generous gift was a mere drop in the bucket, compared to the thousands she now owed.

“Oh…Mrs. Beaumont—”

“Don’t you dare try to give that back, young lady!” Mrs. Beaumont warned archly, taking a step back, her chin held high.

“But—”

Taylor stepped to her side, realizing Katie wasn’t able to cope with the situation. He put an arm around her and smiled at Mrs. Beaumont.

“I just want all of you to know Claire Garvey of the Raintree Restaurant has invited anyone who donated to Katie’s new bookstore down for afternoon tea at four o’clock this afternoon. Can you all make it? Mrs. Beaumont, can you spread the word? I’ll arrange transportation for those who need it.”

Katie raised her head to give Taylor a blank look. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched the check in her hand.

With a pert nod, Mrs. Beaumont tapped her cane smartly on the sidewalk. “Wonderful, Mr. Grant! I’ll accept Mrs. Garvey’s kind invitation on behalf of everyone concerned.”

Confused, Katie hugged each and every individual, voicing her thanks. And when Dr. Abrams and his wife came over, giving Taylor a knowing grin, she was even more confused.

“We’ll see you this afternoon, Katie,” Dr. Abrams told her, patting her hand.

She and Taylor were left standing alone near the gutted building. Katie looked at it. There wasn’t a shred of evidence that her mother’s piano had ever existed. Nothing survived. She looked down at the check and then over at Taylor.

“I—I never expected this. Look at the amount. None of them can afford this, Taylor.”

He smiled, looking deeply into her beautiful eyes. “They gave from their hearts, Katie. Aren’t you the one who always said that gifts from the heart are the richest kind? That money pales in comparison? Well, that’s how they felt about helping you get back on your feet.” He took her arm, gently pulling her from the once-beautiful apartment and the crazy little bookstore. “Come on, princess, we’ve got to get you some new clothes. You can’t go to tea looking like a bedraggled puppy, now can you?”

The Raintree Restaurant was filled to capacity—more than one hundred fifty people were seated when Taylor and Katie arrived. She hung close to him, feeling emotional and out of balance from the whirlwind pace of the day. When she stepped through the revolving, glass-and-brass door, the entire restaurant crowd broke into welcoming applause. Claire Garvey came forward, a huge smile on her face as she pulled Katie to her side. Taylor remained discreetly in the background, hands in the pockets of his dark brown slacks, a tender smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Katie, we just want you to know,” Claire began, her strong voice carrying over the assemblage, “we’re glad to have you with us.” She tucked her arm around Katie’s waist, drawing her toward the center of the restaurant. Katie recognized almost every business owner in Rio Conchos. More important, all her elderly friends were there, too, smiling broadly, their eyes shining. And down in front, with Suzie in her cage, sat little Brandon Prater and his parents, Scott and Jo Ann. Katie gave Claire a helpless look.