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With the distraction in place, she ran to the spare bedroom, the rock had landed on the floor near the window it had come through, and the flames hadn't spread far yet so she could easily make it to the other window.
Ripping a pillowcase off one of the pillows on the bed she wrapped it around her fist then slammed it through the glass.
Without pausing, she scrambled through, and just as she dropped down onto the garage roof, she heard another window breaking. Jay must have fallen for the mannequin in the window trick and thought she was in there.
Taking advantage of his distraction, she crawled to the edge of the roof and jumped down. Landing awkwardly, Hayley rolled a few times before coming to rest under her favorite tree. It was tall, the tallest in the area, and in the fall it was a blaze of autumnal glory. In the summer it was so leafy and a perfect place to sit in the shade and read a book and drink a glass of homemade lemonade. Right now, its bare branches reached way up into the dark winter night sky, snow was falling thick and fast and had already piled up on the branches.
Hayley pushed herself up into a sitting position and rested wearily against the sturdy trunk.
Then she heard it.
The best sound in the world.
Sirens.
* * * * *
8:00 P.M.
“Where is she?” Brian demanded as he parked his car down the block and ran through the maze of police cars and fire trucks that filled Hayley’s street.
“We have people going in to look for her,” the closest firefighter said, indicating the people heading toward the door.
Brian shook his head. “She should be out.”
“How do you know that?” the man asked sharply, looking at him suspiciously now.
“I was on the phone with her. I told her to go out the window and onto the garage roof because the man who did this,” he waved a hand at the burning house, “was still outside. She set up a diversion so she could get out.” At least he hoped it had worked, but she’d hung up on him.
After telling him goodbye.
The kind of goodbye you said to someone when you thought it was going to be the last time you ever spoke with them.
Was it goodbye?
Would that be the last time he ever talked to Hayley, or had she gotten out of the house in time? If she’d gotten out had Jay Turner caught her and killed her or dragged her off with him to torture her before he killed her?
“I’ll tell my men,” the firefighter said and headed off to do that.
Alone, Brian didn't hesitate, just ran around to the side of the house, jumped the fence, and scanned the backyard.
Over by the tree, a figure sat propped against the trunk.
There was no doubt in his mind that it was Hayley.
Relief had him wanting to grab her, hold her, and give thanks that she was alive and had managed to make it out of the house. But her house was still on fire, and she was sitting too close to it, so he ran over, snatched her up, then ran with her back around to the front of the house and into the street.
Someone saw him coming and opened the back door of the nearest patrol car and Brian slid Hayley inside, climbing in beside her and closing the door.
Then he just stared at her.
Her eyes were open, and he didn't see any blood.
Until he looked closer.
“Hayley, your hand.” He gently reached out and lifted it. It was streaked in blood, the majority of which seemed to be coming from a long gash running down her ring finger, over her knuckle, and along the back of her hand.
“I must have cut it when I broke the window to get out,” she said. “I didn't even notice.”
