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I shrugged it off. I needed to focus on him, and it really didn’t matter what she did. She was guilty enough by association—if I needed to kill her to get to him, so be it.
CHAPTERSIXTY-FOUR
Jo eased up to the porch and, body flat against the house, tested the doorknob. It turned, unhindered. Gun up and ready, she kicked the door to swing it open, then peered around the edge, wishing to high hell she had a flashlight. The flames consuming the far side of the room’s exterior sent enough light flickering in to allow her to get her bearings, but not enough to feel confident about what might be hiding inside. But as nervous as it made her, she didn’t have time to come up with anything else.
The floor plan was, as Arnett promised, a mirror image of his house. She flipped the hall and den in her mind and felt along the wall for the light switch. She swiped at it, but the room remained dark. Jennifer either cut the electricity or the fire had taken it out.
Ignoring the smoky burn at the back of her throat, she cleared the hall and the den as best she could. She strained to hear over the soft hissing and crackling of fire consuming wood, but could pick up nothing.
As she climbed the stairs, she scanned again from her elevated angle, praying she’d spot Jennifer and be able to end this quickly. But she found nothing—if Jennifer was inside, she must be upstairs.
A pane of glass from the far window exploded, sending a wave of blistering heat over her. Fire spewed through the opening, licking the wall and shooting toward the ceiling.
She hurried up the stairs, heart slamming in her chest, pulling her shirt over her mouth with her free hand.
As she reached the top, a beam of light burst directly into her eyes, blinding her.
“Son of a bitch!” a woman shouted. “Where the hell is Bob Arnett?”
“Where’s Mrs. Visniky?” Jo said, squinting uselessly in the direction of the master bedroom. “We need to get her out of here, Jennifer.”
“Drop your weapon and get Arnett in here, now,” Jennifer said.
“I can’t do that. We need get Mrs. Visniky to safety.” Jo felt rather than saw Arnett, pressed into the staircase, slither up toward her feet.
“If you want Mrs. Visniky safe, you need to get me Arnett.”
Every instinct in Jo’s body screamed in response to the encroaching fire—but she had to delay, had to give Arnett time to cover her. “The fire has already broken through the wall, Jennifer. If we don’t move now, wealldie. I understand why you killed the others. They failed you, and they let a monster back out on the street. But Mrs. Visniky didn’t do anything to you. Don’t do to her what they did to you.”
“If you want her to live, you better get him in here fast.” Her voice was steely.
Arnett’s hand brushed Jo’s ankle, letting her know he’d reached the top and was easing into position below the highest stair. She prayed Jennifer wasn’t looking down near Jo’s feet.
A timber crashed in the den below. The beam of light jumped at the sound—Jennifer wasn’t as calm as she was pretending to be.
“I don’t have a radio. Arnett’s waiting at the back door in case you try to come out,” Jo said.
“Call him in here, then.”
“He can’t hear me over the fire.” Jo fought to keep the gun steady as her throat seized, forcing her to cough.
Arnett’s hand left her ankle.
“Well then. If he can’t hear you,” Jennifer said, “he’ll sure as hell hear this.”
The sharp report of a gun rent the air, followed immediately by a searing burn in Jo’s chest.
CHAPTERSIXTY-FIVE
As Jo fell back and toward the wall, she fired her own weapon blindly into the darkness. Almost simultaneously, a third shot exploded next to her, and the beam of light fell away.
Arnett jumped up as Jo collapsed onto the stairs, his gun raised high. Jo pushed as hard as she could to slide herself further down the stairs, out of Jennifer’s line of sight.
Jo heard a low moan—was it coming from down the hall, or from her?
“Don’t move,” Arnett called. He must have kicked away Jennifer’s gun, because a scraping sound flew toward Jo and a flash of something dark slid down the stairs. Then the beam of light reappeared, strafing above Jo’s head, then disappeared again.
“Shots fired, Fournier down. Need ambulance and assistance,” Arnett said into his radio.
