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When they were all gloved, James pointed to the floor. “Don’t step on the paper, just push it aside. If there are prints, they’ll be on the boxes or the furniture most likely.” He met her gaze. “Got it?”
“Got it.”
Memories swept over her. Good ones from the beginning of her relationship with Adam, then the bad ones. So many bad ones. So much anxiety. So many tears. So much ... everything.
A hand on her back spun her to find James looking at her with such compassion she wanted to hurl herself into his arms and weep on his chest, trusting he’d make all the bad stuff go away. How could she want that so much and be so terrified at the thought of opening herself up to pain once more?
She straightened her shoulders and motioned to the mess. “Well, where do we start?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Cole said, moving to the far wall. “You might want to designate a couple of boxes as ‘trash’ and ‘keep,’ though.”
“Right.” She couldn’t imagine what she’d put in the “keep” box.
For the next hour, Lainie held it together while she sorted through papers, files, and pictures. The pictures were the worst part. Seeing Adam’s face next to hers made her want to vomit. She’d been so blind. She ripped the one she held right down the middle of Adam’s face and tossed it into the box she’d labeled “trash.” So far, the “keep” box was still empty.
“How you doing?” James’ quiet voice broke into her forced focus. He handed her a water bottle he’d snitched from the side pocket of her purse.
She twisted the cap, took a swig, then shot him a tight smile. “Thanks, I needed that. And I’ll be all right. You find anything?”
He shook his head. “Nothing that—”
“Got something,” Cole said.
“What?” James headed toward his partner, when something rolled into the storage area and hit her foot.
Lainie looked down and gasped. “James!”
The door began to close and James rushed toward it as smoke billowed from the device. Then flames. “Get out!”
But the door slammed shut.
Flames continued to spurt, grabbing papers and anything else they could reach, spreading too fast to even think about stomping them out. But it was the smoke that terrified her.
“Whatever that thing is,” James said, “it’s burning hot! See if you can find something to smother it with while we try to get the door open.”
Lainie ran back to the area where she’d seen a stack of blankets, grabbed one, and threw it over the flames. Her nose burned and the smoke choked her.
Cole shook his head. “The door won’t move!”
Lainie shot to James’ side as the smoke continued to thicken. “Guys, we have to get out of here!” She ran to the door and pounded on it. “Hey! Anyone out there! We need help!” She glanced back. The flames were already burning through the blanket. “Tools,” she muttered, abandoning her useless screaming. “There’s a tool kit around here somewhere,” she said louder. “Did either of you see it?”
“In the far-right corner,” Cole said. Then coughed. “Under some papers!”
Lainie raced to the corner and shoved aside a stack of files, no longer worried about fingerprints—she just wanted to get out alive. She grabbed the heavy box with a grunt and lugged it to the front, gasping, craving a breath of fresh air. “What are we going to do? The fire’s growing!” Sweat rolled down her temple and she swiped it away while a ragged cough ripped at her lungs.
James looked up. “Find something to cover your nose and mouth, then call 911. I’m going to try and bend the rails or pull them down, knock the door off, and bend the panels. Then we can kick them out.”
Lainie dialed 911, then looked down at the silent phone. No cell signal inside this metal box. Stuffing the phone into her pocket, shegrabbed the razor blade from the toolbox and cut the bottom of her T-shirt into one long strip. She doused it with water, then passed the bottle to James, who did the same, and then to Cole, who beat at the flames. James had dragged one of the chairs over, and he stood to reach the rails. He grabbed them and pulled. Then stepped off the chair to put his full weight on them. Still nothing.
Fear pounded through Lainie as she pressed the rag tighter over her face. It didn’t help when James dropped beside her, hand pressed to his wound and a tinge of panic in his eyes. It wasn’t hard to read his thoughts. The fire wasn’t going to kill them, the smoke was.
Cole backed toward them, coughing, eyes squinted through the thick, swirling haze. “Anyone got another idea?” His muffled words reached her.
James grabbed her hand. “On the floor! Get low, get a breath, andthink.”
They dropped and the smoke was lighter there, but still made her throat burn. James spun, belly on the concrete floor, and pounded on the door with his feet. Prayers slipped from Lainie’s lips while her eyes teared and fear swelled.
Then the door rolled up.
