“About half an hour away, on Route 61.”
Courtney blinked. “That’s around where Centralia used to be, before the mine fire.”
“What mine fire?”
“Back in the sixties, Centralia was a mining town, and the townstarted a fire in a landfill to get rid of the trash before some holiday, but the fire fell through the ground to an abandoned mine. The town council covered it up, and by the time it came to light, the fire was out of control, underground.”
“Like it was burning?”
“Yes, and itkeptburning, fed by the coal. It’s anthracite coal, so it burns for a long time, that’s why it’s so valuable. The state EPA got involved, and the feds. They tried to stop it, but nothing worked.” Courtney frowned. “The fire sent toxic gas up through the ground. People got sick. They gave everybody monitors, alarms for carbon monoxide. There was a sinkhole that almost killed a little boy. Bottom line, it was an environmental disaster.”
“Oh my God.”
“The government moved everybody out of their homes and paid them almost nothing. It divided the whole town. A lot of people thought it was a government conspiracy to seize the land by eminent domain, for the coal.” Courtney sighed. “In the end, Centralia became a ghost town. They paved a highway bypass around the town. Byrnesville was the next town over, and it became a ghost town, too. I know it sounds like I’m making it up, especially given the town’s name, but the fire’s still burning.”
“From thesixties?” Julia asked in disbelief.
“Yes, and it’s coming to Buckley. The town is directly in its path. Everybody’s moving away, given what’s coming. There’s no reason to stay and watch your house value go to zero. Businesses left, too. Good luck trying to sell any property in town, even now.”
“That’s terrible. Is the fire coming here, to your grandmother’s?”
“No, this farm is outside town, so it’s out of harm’s way. Still, shedidn’t want to leave. She loved this place, it’s thirty acres. She and my grandfather grew soybeans out back. His great-great-grandfather was one of the first Black farmers in Pennsylvania. Grandma Kay always said you can’t separate a Black farmer from the land, the ancestors would never allow it. She loved this place, that’s why she volunteered at the clean-ups.”
“What’s that?”
“A local group holds clean-ups because people dump tires and trash in Centralia and Byrnesville. She just went to one.” Courtney’s eyes narrowed. “Jules, you say you dreamed about a fire? Do you think it was the mine fire, or even the fire at McKenna’s? Was it a vision, like what happened last time?”
Julia swallowed hard. “I don’t know, I hope not. It could have been anything.”
“But you tried to warn me before I went inside the house. You told me not to go in. You knew something was wrong. How?”
“I don’t know.” Julia had expected the question, but resisted the answer. “I just sensed you shouldn’t go in.”
“Do you think this is, like, your psychic powers, coming back?”
Julia’s gut twisted. “Hold on, I’m not totally sure I have psychic powers.”
“But last time you thought you might have.”
“Yes, but this is so different. Last time, I was seeing a weird blue light, too, and I thought it was related to Caterina Sforza. Now I’m not seeing anything like that. Plus I’m not in Tuscany anymore, I’m in Pennsylvania.”
“Does that matter?”
“I don’t know, but I haven’t had anything weird happen in years andI don’t want to jump to any conclusions.” Julia felt like she was talking to Gianluca, all over again. “I just need to keep myself grounded. Normal, okay?”
“Of course.” Courtney nodded. “And just so you know, I asked you to come as a friend. I didn’t ask you to help me catch the guy who killed her, or because you might be psychic.”
“I know that, and I’m glad I’m here. I’ll help you any way I can. Whatever you need, I’m here for.” It felt right to be here, but she’d keep her promise to Gianluca. She didn’t know enough yet to be sure the fire was a vision and she had no idea what would happen next. If things got dicey, she’d call the police.
Courtney’s eyes glistened in the darkness. “Let’s go inside, huh?”
6
Julia braced herself and entered the house, which had a small entrance hall covered with daisy-patterned wallpaper. In one corner was a brass umbrella stand and a matching tray that held Kay’s grass-stained Keds, red Crocs, and green Hunter rainboots, a poignant sight.
Julia followed Courtney into the living room, where her best friend froze. A large, hideous bloodstain blackened the mint-green rug, and blood dried in stiff bristles. The air smelled sickeningly metallic, and Julia flashed on the awful scene of Kay lying on the floor, her eyes gazing sightlessly at the ceiling, her bifocals on the floor.
“I still can’t believe it.” Courtney began to cry, and Julia held her until her tears subsided, knowing that the only cure for grief was love. They stood together in the still, silent room, among the agonizing evidence that Kay had fought hard for her life. A green sofa, its cushions askew. An end table, turned over. A lamp broken on the floor, its ceramic base in shards. An entertainment center with a small flat TV, its books spilled out onto the hardwood.
