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He hustled across the grass toward thehouse. He could feel the temperature plummeting as the storm fully enveloped the area. The wind kicked up and buffeted him. He had grown up in the Midwest and was used to these dangerous weather systems that made the Ohio Valley their stomping grounds, conjuring up and then spinning off tornadoes like a cancer spawned mutant cells.
He knew the rain would be coming next, probably in sidewayssheets.
He reached the house’s pressure-treated deck and raced up the steps. He didn’t look back at Amber’s house, so he didn’t see Alex Jamison come out and gaze quickly around for him.
He got to the window where he’d seen the reflection of light. He could now smell it, which confirmed his suspicions.
Electrical wiring had gotten mixed with liquid. He had investigatedhomicides involving arson, and the smell was unmistakable. There was a fire in there.
He put his face to the glass and peered inside. Electrical fires tended to move fast, usually behind walls where they could spread unseen until it was too late.
A moment later, he saw something that confirmed his worst fear: a flicker of flames and the rise of smoke.
Then he lookedto the right as a spear of lightning lit up the whole area.
Decker froze at what he was seeing in the illumination provided by the lightning strike. A moment later, he broke free from his paralysis and ran to the back door. Without hesitating he hit it with his shoulder like he had many football blocking sleds. The flimsy door buckled under the massive impact and fell open.
The storm was screaming overhead now, so Decker couldn’t hear Jamison calling to him. She had rushed off the deck and was running to the rear fence when Decker had crushed the door. The rain was falling hard now, whipped by the wind into a stinging frenzy, as the storm emptied millions of gallons of water over the western edge of the Keystone State. Jamison had run out of her shoes and was soakedbefore she was halfway to the fence.
A drenched Decker burst into the kitchen and turned right. He had his Beretta out and pointed in front of him. He now wished he hadn’t had all that beer. He might need his fine motor skills to be better than they presently were.
He moved swiftly down the darkened hallway, bouncing off one wall. Something fell to the floor as he brushed againstit.
It was a picture.
Decker cursed himself because he had just contaminated what was now a crime scene, an act he would have found unforgivable if someone else had done it. Yet it couldn’t be helped. He didn’t know what was going on here. What he had seen might just be the tip of the iceberg.
He cautiously poked first his gun and then his head around the corner.He cleared the space with two long visual passes and straightened.
Decker now knew what had triggered first the spark and next the flames.
And the flickering lights.
Exposed electrical wires had indeed been commingled with liquid.
But it wasn’t water.
It was blood.
