Fire Angel (25 page)

“There is too much damage for you to wear the leg for at least a week to ten days. I know how much you'll hate that, but we can't risk infection. You can take it with you, and if there's no swelling, try it next Sunday. By the way, will the restaurant be open tomorrow?”

“Yes, I told Frank to tell you,” said Jake. The doctor's alibi would be easy enough to check.

“I haven't seen Frank in a day or so,” he answered and finished filling out the chart. Something nagged at Jake.

“By the way, has it ever been proven that people act up more during a full moon?”

“I don't believe there is any scientific correlation for that,” the doctor answered. “When is the next full moon?”

“December 27.”

“It would be hard to say. People are always a bit wild at that time of the year, rather like Halloween.” He sighed, a sad look on his face. “If I pull ER duty that night, I'll try to get you some empirical data.” He handed Jake the large box containing his new leg. “Remember; don't put it on until the swelling goes down. You'll only make matters worse if you do.”

The curtain opened, and the doctor smiled at the man who stood there.

“Hi, Everett; will you see that he gets some rest? I've got to go. Take the crutches and bring them back later.” He walked over to the triage desk, clipboard in hand.

“Do you still want me to check him out?” Everett asked after the doctor had left.

“Yes, and while you're at it, see if he was at the Children's Hospital in Ottawa today and if he was, find out when he left.” He used the crutches to stand. “Can you carry that for me?” He indicated the box on the bed.

Everett picked it up. “It's lighter than I thought it would be.”

Jake smiled. “Space-age materials. Did you get my phone out of the truck like I asked?”

“Your phone wasn't in your truck and the truck wasn't locked. Some kid probably saw it lying there during all the excitement and walked off with it. Since it has GPS, I'll have the boys set up a trace as soon as I get back to the station.”

“Great,” Jake sighed. “What else can go wrong? Let's get out of here and go and see Alexis. Everett, she has to be okay, because I think that I'm the one who brought the roof down on her.”

The next morning, Jake, dressed in blue pajamas, sat in the sleeper chair beside the bed where he had spent the night. He had made it clear he was not going to leave Alexis's side, and no one had chosen to argue the point. Two police officers had stood by the doors all night long. The story given was that there was a dangerous criminal inside, so everyone had stayed away. This morning, Pierre and Patrick had returned to their posts. Like him, they blamed themselves for what had happened.

Her chart listed her as Jane Smith, and absolutely no information was to be given out to anyone. All calls were to be referred to him. By now, the killer knew that she hadn't been taken to Valley, and he'd be looking for her. The only time Jake intended to leave her side was to allow the doctors and nurses to tend to her. Everett and her uncle would spell him a couple of hours a day, so he could work on the case, but he would not be far away. As long as she was here, so was he.

On the table beside him were the remnants of the breakfast he'd been given. Next to the tray sat the report Everett had brought in earlier and a new cell phone; it seemed that whoever had taken his was smart enough to disable the GPS. The techs were correlating cell signals in the area to see if they could identify the phone that had made the call detonating the pipe bomb in the house. The lab had worked through the night, and all of the samples that Alexis had collected had been examined and categorized.

Their only suspect, Andrew Shillingham, had been cleared. There had been no full moon the night his wife and daughter had died, and those responsible had been prosecuted to the full extent of the law. They wouldn't be getting out of jail any time soon.

The doctor had traded in his black SUV in August, and now drove a white Mercedes coupe. As well, he had no weapons of any sort, and didn't hunt. He was even a member of PETA. Finally, he didn't smoke.

Andrew had been in Ottawa yesterday and a good many other days as well. He was being honored by the hospital for his work with child amputees. Apparently, Everett had learned that Andrew had just become engaged to one of the nurses there. As Jake had figured, this was not a man bent on revenge. The problem was that it left him without a viable suspect.

Neither the electrician nor the Temagami plumber had been in town since August; the electrician was in BC, and the plumber had moved to the other side of the province. The Temagami youths had all been dead ends as well.

Jake opened the notebook Alexis used to keep track of her thoughts and theories, and cursed. He had seen chicken scratch that made more sense. He was positive that the answer was in here, but without her to decipher the notes, they were stymied. He had theories, but he needed Alexis's insight. Getting rid of her seemed to have become the killer's mission, and he appeared ready to do whatever it took to do it.

Jake wondered how Alexis would react when she learned that he had unwittingly dropped the ceiling on her. He finished the last of his toast and washed it down with the glass of milk that he had requested.

His leg still ached and one of the ER doctors had applied a lidocaine cream to the stump to numb it and ease the soreness. He had given him a couple of extra-strength analgesic tablets and a prescription for the cream; it would not stop all of his discomfort, but it would make it a bit more bearable.

Alexis had been placed in a medically induced coma, a measure deemed necessary to reduce the swelling in her brain caused by the severe head trauma she had suffered. Despite the trouble she'd had breathing, her lungs were good. The oxygen they continued to give her was just an additional precaution. She had a lot of bruises, but as Everett had said, nothing was broken.

By keeping her in the drugged state, they would allow her brain to heal and the swelling to go down naturally, in hopes that there would be no permanent damage. The longer she was out of commission, the longer it would take to find the killer, and they had less than twenty-five days to go.

The door to the room swung open to admit her uncle.

“Morning, Jake,” said Nick. “How is she?”

“They say she's resting comfortably,” he answered, staring at the forest of machines and tubes that surrounded her. The constant beeping and the hiss of oxygen had become familiar sounds.

Jake looked at Alexis, her face pale against the deep blue pillow case. Her head had been bandaged, and the bruises on her face were an angry blue, but she was still the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen.

He turned to her uncle.

“I'll leave you alone with her while I go and get cleaned up. I'll be back in an hour.”

“Go, do what you have to do; I'll watch over her. I won't let anyone hurt her again.”

The man was visibly shaken by the obvious suffering his niece had endured. He pulled up the chair on the opposite side of the bed. “If my Lord is as forgiving as I believe him to be, then perhaps He'll listen to this sinner's prayers.”

Jake got up on his crutches and moved to the bathroom that connected this room with the one he'd use as an office for the duration of their stay here. He turned around to look at Alexis and was struck by the tears rolling down her uncle's cheeks. He held her hand, his eyes closed, lost in urgent prayer. Alcohol changed people; it often made them do terrible things even to the ones they loved. Nick would regret his actions for the rest of his life.

• • •

Jake had barely left her side in the past four days. When Nick came in each morning, he used that time to shower and change. Dave had arrived a couple of days ago, a week earlier than Minette had expected him, and had taken over the running of the inn, leaving Jake free to concentrate on the case and protect Alexis.

Knowing what to look for, the forensic team — which included another fire inspector — sent by Captain Peters, had continued the investigation of the fires and the evidence Alexis had logged. Careful examination of the doors at Providence House had revealed the presence of super glue, just as she had said it would. They had begun a thorough inspection of the similarities in the fires. Despite the means of ignition, the parallels were amazing. As Alexis had said, he'd left a piece of himself at each scene.

The evidence showed that at each fire scene, he had left cigarette butts and the remnants of a joint. A joint had been found in the shack where Jake had collected butts at the second scene. It hadn't been there earlier. Since the techs had confirmed that the call that detonated the bomb had come from Jake's missing cell phone, it infuriated him to think that the creep had stood there smoking up while Alexis might have died. The results revealed the cigarettes as those sold on the Reserve, and the DNA on the samples that were not too degraded to test had yet to come back. DNA testing took time.

The waxy residue had come from a vanilla scented soy candle, not normally the kind of thing a man would buy, so there were officers checking with the local craft stores and candle shops. Was this what Alexis had meant by the incense for his funeral pyres?

They had found evidence of Styrofoam at each scene as well, and that bothered him. The new fire investigator had mentioned coffee cups, and pointed out that that could be circumstantial.

Rohypnol had been found in eight of the twelve bodies recovered from Providence House, but no one had yet identified how it had been ingested. The bikers might have been having drinks, but no bottles or cans had been found, although they could have been drinking out of Styrofoam cups, but there was nothing to prove that.

He scratched his head.

“Alexis, darling, you have to wake up soon. I really need your help on this. We have just over two weeks before he strikes again, and I'm convinced that you know more than you've shared? What is the special talent Captain Peters referred to? Is the answer in here?” he held up the notebook.

He looked at her lying there, pale and as vulnerable today as she had been sixteen years ago. He knew they were friends, would always be friends, but he wanted so much more. He hoped that once he told her the truth about Afghanistan and Irena, that she might consider giving him a second chance; he knew she was attracted to him, so what was holding her back?

He knew that, in spite of the circumstances, he was not really to blame for her current condition, but he could not forget that he had been the one to open that door. Regardless of what happened, he intended to be there for her.

Knowing Alexis's fears, Jake had insisted that the lights stay on in the room at night. They had begun to lower the dosage of the drugs to allow her to gradually awaken, and she was restless, small moans escaping from her parted lips. He hoped that she wasn't caught in a nightmare, reliving some horrible experience. He reached out to her and clasped her hand in his, surprised at the strength with which she gripped his fingers in return.

The doctors and nurses said that people in a coma could sometimes hear you speaking to them, and so he talked soothingly to her.

He spoke about his childhood, his family, and his relationship with David. He described growing up in Paradise, going to university in Toronto, and meeting Andre. He recalled some of their early antics, and the tricks they'd pulled on the so-called campus bullies. Finally, he talked about Afghanistan and the horrors of war, but he didn't mention Irena and her family; he wanted her conscious for that confession.

He told her all about Minette and how David had helped her cope with Andre's death. Eventually, they had fallen in love. Now that David was home, they would soon be married. He told her about Mila's Christmas wish for her “almost daddy,” and how she was busily writing to Santa since David had come home before Christmas; she felt Santa needed to bring her something else.

When he had run out of things to say, Jake began to read aloud from the case files, going over everything they knew and speculating about the other stuff. He made notes when something struck him as out of place. Finally, he poured out his hopes and fears, his dreams and disappointments, and his request that she give him another chance.

“I don't know where we went wrong, Alexis, but when we catch this guy, you and I are going to have a long talk.”

The door swung open and the nurse entered carrying a box of flowers. Jake looked at his watch. It was after ten.

“Isn't it a little late for floral deliveries?” he asked.

“I don't know where they came from, Mr. McKenzie. They were on my desk when I came upstairs from break. The officer looked at them; they aren't booby trapped, but they are certainly unusual.”

Jake opened the florist's box and stared at the content. Lying in white tissue were twelve deep maroon roses, so dark that they appeared black. While the roses were certainly eerie, it was the small angel-shaped wax candle and the card with them, addressed to Alexis that turned his blood cold. He flipped the lid over to read the name on the box: Jane Smith, but this person knew the truth. He had found her! Jake reluctantly opened the card and read.

Alexis,

As you can see, my love, I've found you. You cannot hide from me. Three strikes; you're out. Have a pleasant night. Soon, my angel will guide you to your resting place.

Farewell, Lexy-Wexy; just as before, it wasn't meant to be.

Fire Angel

He put the note back into the envelope and thanked the nurse. He reached for his new cell phone. He had three calls to make, and he had to make them now.

• • •

Alexis had a headache, not a small headache, not one like she'd had after she had drunk too much champagne. No, this was a “my brain is trying to get out of my skull” type of headache, and she was thirsty, thirstier than she had ever been.