“L, I told you not to go in there or you’ll be sorry,” he repeated his warning, and this time there was a touch of humor in his voice ignoring her request. “The only place I’m going is out of this town, and I’m going now. This is your last chance.”
“I’m not going with you.” Ellie twisted the knob, taking a step back, but Steve lunged forward and grabbed her by her shirt collar, swinging her onto the roofing-office floor. She landed with a crushing crack, her father’s brush snapping in half in her back pocket.
“Don’t go in that room!” Steve roared, his face red and sweaty.
Ellie, in pain and awe, cowered on the floor, scared of the stranger standing above her. Some kind of insanity had taken him over. She tried to lean in a little closer to inspect Steve’s pupils, suddenly worried about a bleed on the brain. He glanced at the watch strapped to his wrist, probably also his father’s.
“Fine, stay here in this shithole of a town, but I’m leaving and you should get out too.” He returned to the hole in the floor and the pile of cash and unlabeled blue folders. He continued to load them into Cora’s purple butterfly backpack. “We’re out of time, Ellie. You need to get out of here—now.”
Steve was being erratic, scary, and potentially dangerous. He was also part of this strange fire cover-up at Nancy’s, but then again so was her father. It would all be cleared up if she could get him to safety; she knew it.
“Come with me, Steve,” she said, rubbing her elbow where it had hit the floor, blood beading up around the edges of the rug burn, and then sat up. “You know what trauma can do to a person. You saw your wife shot. You killed a man in self-defense. You need help. Let me help you.”
Steve ignored her completely as he placed the last few items into the bag before reaching in one last time and pulling out a small revolver, snub-nosed with a brown handle. Ellie fell back onto her injured elbow, shocked, and her faith in Steve quickly dissolving into horror. She scrambled around on the floor, trying to get to her feet and knowing she was in an incredibly vulnerable position.
As Ellie flailed about, Steve tossed the sagging bag onto his shoulder and pointed the gun right at her. He was cool and didn’t seem to be struggling against any demons. In fact, he seemed more serene than he had in the past twenty-four hours.
“I’ll give you to the count of five to get out, then I’m leaving, and I’d suggest you not try to stop me. None of this was part of the plan, but I’m not going to go to jail forever because of Randy’s mess-up. Get up and go. Now.”
Talking to Steve was like throwing herself repeatedly against a brick wall until she was bloody. He couldn’t hear her, or at the very least, he wasn’t listening. Despite the paralyzing reality of having a gun pointed at her face, Ellie found a way to make her body respond to her orders. She stood up, blood trickling down her arm, and her legs started to shake.
“One . . . ,” he started to count, and Ellie knew she was out of time. If you can’t get the victim out of the fire, you don’t let it consume you too. You run. “Two . . .” The gun shook in his hand, finger over the trigger. Ellie put up her hands in surrender.
“I’m leaving.” She backed away, toward the Broadlands Roofing outside office door, the one that led to the driveway, developing a plan for escape. She’d run through the thick patch of brush and trees on the other side of the gravel driveway. She’d get in her car and start driving to the hospital and tell Travis. The police would find Steve pretty easily since he was dressed in his father’s clothes and likely driving his car.
“Three . . .” He kept counting, holding the gun with two hands now like he was taking aim. He wasn’t bluffing. She stopped planning and started moving as fast as she could.
With a hard twist and pull, Ellie broke the police seal on the other side of the door. The pop made her jump. She wondered if Steve’s gun had gone off by accident, but she didn’t dare look back. As the fresh spring air rushed through the crack in the door, Ellie pulled harder so that the door swung wide. No police officers or any other vehicles were waiting. It would only take a few leaps across the gravel to make it to the safety of the trees, but as soon as she turned her back and ran through the open area, she’d be a sitting duck. The relief of the fresh air and freedom was brief as Steve continued counting.
“Four . . .”
Ellie let go of the door. It was time. Her ears were ringing, her feet struggling to move as fast as she wanted them to, but she had to do it; she had to turn her back to a man with a gun and run.
“Five . . .”
The last shouted number echoed out the door, and Ellie leaped off the wooden front porch, skipping several steps and skidding across the gravel drive. It was hard to find traction, and she fell, the little stones embedding in her hand, but she didn’t feel the physical pain. The panic produced by fearing for her life pulled Ellie up almost like hands under her arms, yanking her toward the sky. Without waiting to be steady, she took off again, covering her head and leaving a trail of dust behind her.
Once in the trees, she uncovered her head and risked a glance back over her shoulder. The door to the office still hung open, but there was no sign of Steve. He must still be inside, gathering more hidden cash or documents. Ellie wasn’t going to wait to find out. She reached into her pocket and retrieved her keys, wishing Steve hadn’t taken her phone. After driving an ambulance, driving Collin’s Jeep at full speed would seem like driving a race car. Still, no time to delay.
She took off again through the trees, the side street where she’d parked visible through the thick underbrush. Just as she was about to break through the tree line, a loud boom pounded in her ears, and an invisible force shoved her down to the ground, her face raking against the needle-covered earth. A loud, high-pitched whine rang through her ears, and her head felt inflated with water or air. The world spun around her, and it took a moment to understand what was happening until she heard the unmistakable sound of fire.
Any attempt to stand made Ellie’s head pound, but as she crawled across the ground, she saw it—her sister’s house engulfed in flames, debris surrounding the structure like a skirt. She covered her mouth, shaking from the explosion, shocked at the devastation. What did Steve do?
Steve. Where was Steve?
Fighting through the pain and confusion, Ellie sat herself up against a tree trunk, resting her heavy head on the rough bark. If Steve was inside—he was dead. Dead. He’d done some terrible and confusing things, but dead? She’d spent so much of the past twenty-four hours worrying about her sister, she had no idea that in the end it was Steve who would end up gone. Even with all his irrational behavior, death wasn’t what she wanted for him.