Working Fire

5:52 a.m.

Collin’s Jeep pulled up in the circle drive as soon as Ellie walked out the door. Unlike the last time she crawled into his passenger seat, the morning wasn’t nearly as cold and the sun was peeking up over the horizon. The sunrise over Broadlands’ newly plowed fields and the neighboring apple orchard was always a beautiful sight, the warm reds and pinks and oranges spilling all over the sky as if God were playing with watercolors.

But this morning she couldn’t look or even care about the sunrise or colors or God. She could barely even look at anything beyond her feet. Once she was inside and buckled, Collin spoke as he drove away from the hospital and back toward town.

“How is Amelia?”

“She’s fine,” she responded tersely, knowing it wasn’t true but also not ready to talk to Collin about anything having to do with her sister while he was still aiding and abetting one of the individuals responsible for putting her in that condition.

Collin sighed loudly. “I knew you’d be pissed,” he started, staring at the road, defensive rather than apologetic.

“Seriously? You’re mad that I’m mad?” Ellie turned toward Collin. “God, Collin, take a look at how this has gone down. My sister was shot, and the whole time you are worried about where your brother is. At first I got it, but once they started telling everyone he might be armed and dangerous, I think it might have been wise to let the police take care of the situation.” Ellie glanced around as they got on Highway 12. “Where the hell are we going, and how in the world did you think it was okay to take my dad anywhere? I’m just baffled here. Baffled.” Ellie tapped her forehead with her fingertips, more angry with Collin than she had ever been.

“You are doing that thing you do, Ellie. You are jumping to conclusions, and you are getting overly protective. Your dad is safe. Actually, he’s far safer than when I found him wandering around town. You need to hear Caleb out. I’m positive you’re not getting the whole story from Steve-o in there.” He tipped his head back toward the hospital.

“Steve is sitting by his wife’s bed, holding her hand because she might be dying. Caleb is hiding somewhere and using my dad as bait because he’s evading arrest. Who do you think is more trustworthy here?”

Collin took a sharp right and then a left onto Main Street. No one was out this early other than Frank sweeping in front of his restaurant and a few early risers heading in for some coffee and doughnuts. The town flashed by, and they were on the other side of Broadlands. If Collin took a right, it would mean they were headed toward the residential area of the town; a left would take them to the highway and from there, who knew where. When Collin got to the blinking red light, he slowed but didn’t stop. He turned left.

“I’m not going to try to convince you,” Collin said, walls a million feet thick going up around him. “You have to talk to Caleb.”

Emotion suddenly overwhelmed Ellie, and her eyes filled with tears for the tenth time in the past twenty-four hours. This time it wasn’t because she was scared or worried about her sister or Steve or because she was frustrated with her circumstances. This time the tears were for her and Collin.

“How are we going to survive this?” she asked, one tear racing down her cheek.

“Talk to Caleb and you’ll understand. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“No, Collin, how are we going to survive this?” she asked again, spinning her engagement ring around her finger two times, wondering how long it would be there. Would they make it a week or a month before the trauma from this day would settle in and they’d realize they couldn’t get past the betrayal or the bitterness? Or would they make it a year or two, pretending this day never happened, before it would all come crashing in to ruin their lives?

Through smudged lenses, Collin looked at Ellie. His eyes were wide. He glanced back at the road and then back at her several times before speaking.

“Nothing’s changed for me,” Collin clarified, and stared at the side of her face again. “Don’t base our future on this, L. You’ll regret it. I know you will.” He spoke with such conviction that Ellie stopped fiddling with her ring and placed the stone back toward the middle of her finger.

“I don’t know, I just feel like . . .” Her voice trailed off as Collin made one last turn. It wasn’t onto the highway—it was into the parking lot for the abandoned Nancy’s Emporium. “What? Why are you taking me to this dump?”

Collin didn’t answer right away; instead, he picked up speed and angled the Jeep toward the back of the abandoned supermarket. When he turned into the docking area, he slowed to a crawl and then angled up beside the building between an old cement wall and the outbuilding that used to store dumpsters. Though the sun was already above the horizon, the shadow thrown by the half-crumbled wall made the interior of the car dim, a weird twilight-like shadow descending over them. No one would see the vehicle there, not from the front of the store and definitely not from the highway.

“Come on, L. They’re inside.” Collin opened his door a few inches until it tapped the wall on his side of the car. The way this building looked, Ellie knew it wasn’t safe. Even a small impact like a door opening or closing could make whole sections of concrete fall. And a man who might be a thief and a murderer was waiting inside, basically holding her father hostage. It sounded like a trap.

“You have my dad in there?” Ellie asked, opening her door and ignoring the heart and letters carved into it. Collin didn’t respond. He kept walking toward the blackened vinyl paneling at the back of the store where a giant cement ramp plunged into the ground next to the building. As Ellie jumped down from her seat onto the chunks of cement on the ground, she heard a clunk. Her phone. The shiny silver rectangle was easy to find among the rubble. She picked it up and dusted off the screen, inspecting it for scratches. When her thumb hit the Home button on the bottom of the touch screen, the lock screen appeared along with three glowing texts from Travis.

Brown—checking in. At ICU in ten minutes.

You okay? Mrs. Saxton said you ran out. Let me know if you need help.

Then the third one:

I know you were in the morgue this morning. Call me.

Once again, the texts were a strange mix of concern and investigation. His motivations were so mottled, it was hard for Ellie to trust him. She slammed the Jeep door, the noise echoing off the building and bouncing back and forth until it flew off into space, a chunk of concrete falling from the vibrations.

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