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The other two survivors, who Davison thinks of as brothers, agree with him. They were only a year younger than Davison when a fire tore through the home for foster children on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Thirteen children and four counselors died that day. It was one of the most tragic days in the city’s history.
“I don’t think I’ve recovered, really,” says Chance Fields. “I still hear their screams in my sleep. The kids who got trapped up on the top floors and couldn’t get out in time.”
Micah Hewlitt says, “Yeah. That was one of the worst things. I think I’ve got survivor’s guilt or something. I’ve had trouble with drugs and alcohol ever since. Can’t hold down a job. It affects everything.”
The three boys went to individual foster homes after the fire. Although they kept in touch, they never spent much time together after the tragedy.
“It was too hard,” says Bradley. “We remind each other of what happened.”
The subsequent investigation revealed that the cause of the fire was undetermined. Foul play could not be ruled out. Fifteen years later, the site of one of the city’s most tragic chapters is now North Star Park. Although a plaque commemorates the fire, most families who come to enjoy the playground and picnic area don’t remember the building that used to stand there and later burned to the ground.
All three survivors toured the new park recently on the anniversary of the fire. The mood was somber. “I guess this is nice,” Bradley said. “Making something good for the community from this place, but it doesn’t take away the pain. Nothing will ever take away the pain.”
“We’re going to starve up here,” Nicola said. “How long can we go without food?”
“You don’t need food to survive a couple of days,” said Alice. “We can get by on water.”
More smoke seeped around the edges of the doors. Nicola coughed again.
Brian watched the smoke undulate along the floor, like vipers slithering straight at him. He leapt up. “I can’t stay here.”
“We have to stay here,” Sandrine said. “It’s okay, Brian. Please. Sit back down.”
Alice said, “I’ve been thinking about it. We’ll never make it if we try to walk to the bottom of the mountain. The snow is too deep. It’s a few miles. We’ll be soaked and frozen and even once we get down there, the nearest house or town or anything is miles away. We’re stuck here.”
Josie scrolled to the final messages from Gretchen.
By the way, this guy, Bradley Davison, is not married. Doesn’t even have a girlfriend but I do think we’ve got the right person based on the information you gave us. He has no priors although he did have a restraining order against him a few years back. It was that actor who had the big sexual assault scandal, Dean Thurman.
FORTY-THREE
Josie’s heart kicked into overdrive. Blood roared in her ears. There was the connection she had been looking for between any of the imposters and Sandrine. Thurman had starred in a movie with Sandrine’s mother and then had an affair with her. The last of Gretchen’s messages glowed on the screen.
Still working on Nicola Davies.
Gretchen and Detective Loughlin hadn’t bothered to check out the connection between Thurman and Brian. Thurman was dead. Whatever issues there had been between him and Brian, it would seem irrelevant to Josie’s colleagues from where they sat. They didn’t know what Josie knew.
Brian walked toward the door again.
Josie typed back a quick message.
Thanks. Things here are deteriorating rapidly. Tara Pietro is missing. Possibly murdered. The main house is burning. No food. No heat. Supplies gone. Phone will run out soon. No way to charge. Please help.
She hit send but a small clock beneath the message twirled, indicating that it would not go through. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath.
Brian opened the door. More smoke wafted inside. “I can’t stay here. I just can’t. You don’t understand. The smell. I can’t stay.”
Sandrine leapt to her feet and strode over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “Brian, look at me. It’s okay. You’re safe. Remember your flashback-halting protocol. Breathe. I’ll help you with it.”
Sandrine counted off the seconds for the box breathing. Brian struggled to mirror her but eventually began to calm down a bit. Alice jumped up and shut the doors again, blocking out the smoke.
“Come on,” Sandrine said, tugging Brian’s hands toward the other end of the room where the rest of them waited. “For now, this is the best place for us to be.”
Coughing, Nicola wiped at her watery eyes. “But the smoke.”
Sandrine motioned for Brian to sit down on the floor again. “The wind is pushing most of it uphill. It will be worse if we try to get into one of the cabins than if we just stay here.”
“And if we go outside, we’ll freeze,” Alice pointed out. “It’s at least dry here and we have some barrier against the smoke.”
