“Yeah.” I pull away from the office. “I’m going to meet Burke now, and then I’ll swing by.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hey.” My voice goes low. “You okay?”
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” he deflects, “but so far so good.”
I have a funny feeling in my stomach.
“Talk later,” he says and hangs up the phone.
I stop at the end of the street, turning right, and head over to Burke’s house.
Burke’s brown front door has a peephole and a brass knocker. I walk up the steps and see the swing on the side sway softly with the breeze. I ring the doorbell and wait a couple of minutes before walking back down the steps and toward the back. I can hear an electric saw. I knock on the fence and then open it, stepping in. Burke looks up from what he’s doing and gives me a chin lift.
“Hey,” I greet, seeing the pieces of wood all around the yard, “what’s all this?”
“Playhouse,” he answers. “Sorry, treehouse.” He takes off the protective glasses he’s wearing and tosses them aside. “Thought I would surprise Asa. Told him about the one I had growing up, and he asked if I could make one for him.”
I put my hands on my hips. “That sounds”—I look around—“like it’s a lot of work.” He laughs at me. “I hope this wasn’t a ploy to get us out here to build it for you.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “But?—”
“No.” I hold up my hand. “Absolutely not.”
“Okay, fine,” he gives in. “Then let me show you what I want done.” He takes off his gloves and puts them to the side. “It’s over there.” He motions to the detached garage off to the left. “I had this built when I had the whole house gutted. But I was just going to use it as a big shed.” Opening the door, I see that the only thing they have is plywood on the wall, and the base is concrete. “Asa is going to be staying with me this summer. I’m going to need to hire a nanny, and well, I don’t know if it will be a live-in position or what, but either way, I thought it would be better if they had their own space.”
I’m about to say something when his phone rings from his back pocket, and he pulls it out. “Sorry, I’m on call . . .” he mumbles and puts the phone to his ear. “Burke.” He listens, then he’s running. “On it.” He puts the phone in his pocket without stopping. “Got to go. Shots fired at Sierra’s house.”
CHAPTER TWO
THEO
“Sierra,” I repeat the name, just in case I somehow misunderstood it. Surely there has to be a mistake. It has to be a different Sierra.
“Call Caleb!” he says, jumping into the driver’s side. My feet stick to the ground as if they were poured into cement.
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘Shots fired at Sierra’s house’?” I shout to him, but he peels away from the curb, his lights already flashing.
By the time I pull my phone out of my back pocket, my feet have finally picked up that it’s time to move because I’m running to my truck. I dial Caleb. “Come on—answer, answer, answer,” I urge as it rings four times before going to voicemail.
“You’ve reached Caleb Walker from CW Construction. Please leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you.” I disconnect and call him again, with the same results.
“Motherfucker,” I swear. I barely keep to the speed limit as I drive to Sierra’s house, thinking this must be a terrible mistake.
About five cop cars block off her street. Two ambulances race by me, sirens blaring and lights flashing. I pull over to the side and grab my phone. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest as I run toward her house.
“Hey!” an officer on the side yells to me, “you can’t go in there.”
“That’s my cousin’s house.” I put both my hands on top of my head, seeing people rushing in, but no one coming out. “What’s going on?”
“Not sure,” he replies, trying not to answer me.
“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” My voice rises. “I was with Officer Burke when he got the call.” I don’t know if it’s a good thing to name-drop or say that I know because of him, but I couldn’t care less.
“Reports are that shots were fired,” he says as a commotion comes from the house. “One victim, maybe two, it’s still unclear.”
“One victim or more,” I repeat his words, and I don’t even care. I take off running as the gurney comes out of the house. It’s a woman I’ve never met, and Carl, the wood guy, is beside it.
