Page 9

A large man in a backward ballcap, black athletic shorts and a gray T-shirt stood at the base of the front steps, being held back by two firefighters. They shouted at him.

“Get back, man!”

“You can’t go in there!”

“Let us do our jobs, West.”

“Come on, Carter, calm down.”

Carter West. One of Sylvia’s sons. Josie felt a knot of emotion in her chest, tight and painful.

“My mom!” Carter hollered. “My mom could be in there! Let me go!”

He was big and, in his panicked state, filled with adrenaline, very strong. Like a giant flicking off annoying bugs. He twisted and flailed, punching at the firefighters and straining against their hold until he broke free. The momentum sent him to his knees, but he was up in a heartbeat, sprinting toward the steps of the house.

The firefighters raced after him, but they didn’t have his speed, born of terror and the need to get to his mother.

“What the hell?” one of them said.

Josie and Noah moved closer to the confrontation, despite the thick, acrid air.

A sharp female voice cut through the melee. “West! Stop right there. Do not go into that house. It’s not safe. Do you hear me, Carter? Get. Back. Now.”

Josie and Noah turned their heads at the same time to see Denton’s fire chief, Macy Russell, standing a few feet away, her air of authority making her seem much taller than her five-foot six frame. Her dark hair was pulled tight into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her brown eyes were narrowed, locked onto Carter, who had frozen at the base of the steps. Slowly, he turned toward her. Now that Josie saw him from the front, she noticed the words Denton Fire Department across the front of his T-shirt. He was a firefighter. That explained why they all knew him, why the first man she’d spoken to had had such an odd reaction when she’d told him the homeowner was already deceased.

Josie and Noah inched even closer. The firefighters assembled near the bottom of the steps took in their Denton PD clothes and the firearms at their waists and made room.

Up close, Josie could see the conflict raging in Carter’s eyes.

Despite the heat choking all of them, the water shooting from the heavy hoses strewn about the scene, and the urgent shouts of his colleagues who were still focused on putting the fire out, the moment seemed suspended. It was only Macy and Carter. Her orders versus his turmoil. The tension between them was thicker than the smoke hanging in the air all around them. Josie, Noah and the firefighters looked back and forth between him and Macy, as if waiting to see who would blink first.

It was Carter.

With a howl, he turned and surged up the steps toward the gaping front door.

“Dammit,” Macy spat.

Josie and Noah joined the fray, sprinting up the stairs to help Carter’s two colleagues drag him away from the house. He flailed, clenched fists striking out indiscriminately.

“Let me go!” he shouted. “I have to get to her. She could be in there!”

He struggled mightily but they managed to get him onto the sidewalk and to the other side of the street. Josie and Noah took up position on either side of him, each with one hand on his upper arm and one on his wrist. From there, they could wrench his arms behind his back and take him down, if necessary.

“Take it easy,” said Josie.

One of Carter’s colleagues stepped up in front of him. He looked from Josie to Noah. “You can back off. We’ve got this.”

“You sure about that?” asked Noah.

The man nodded. Reluctantly, they released Carter’s arms.

“You can’t go in there,” the man said, softening his tone. “You know that.”

“Get out of my way!” Carter said, eyes blind with panic. “She could be in there! We’re talking about my mom! She could be inside.”

“Calm down, West,” Macy barked, joining them.

Instead of calming down, Carter shoved his colleague and tried to push past him. Before Josie or Noah could react, another firefighter stepped in. Carter pushed him as well. Someone threw a sloppy punch. There was a blur of bodies, fighting, pressing, flailing, with Macy trying to separate them. Noah and Josie managed to grab hold of Carter once more but before they could get a proper grip on him, he twisted away and fell on his ass, the ballcap tumbling off his head. Locks of his dark hair fell across his forehead. Other than the shade of his hair, the resemblance between him and Sylvia was strong. The shape of their cheekbones and the color of their eyes were nearly identical except for the harsher, more masculine lines of Carter’s face.