Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)(5)

The kids were already standing up and looking scared. He knew they weren’t very far from panic.

“You know where we’re supposed to go?” he asked. “The way out?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” He turned to the students. “Who’s in charge here?” he asked in a voice loud enough to be heard over the bells.

“Mrs. Miller,” someone yelled.

“Exactly. Everyone get in line and follow Mrs. Miller as we go into the hall. There are going to be a lot of kids out there. Stay calm. I’ll go last and make sure you all get out of the building.”

Mrs. Miller motioned for her students to move toward the door.

“Follow me,” she said. “We’ll go quickly. Everyone hold hands. Don’t let go. Everything is fine. Just stay together.”

Mrs. Miller went out the door. The children began to follow her. Raoul waited to make sure everyone left. One little boy seemed to hesitate before leaving.

“It’s okay,” Raoul told him, his voice deliberately calm. He reached for the boy’s hand, but the child flinched, as if expecting to be hit. The kid—all red hair and freckles—ducked out before Raoul could say anything.

Raoul went into the hall. The smell of smoke was more intense. Several kids were crying. A few stood in the middle of the hallway, their hands over their ears. The bells rang endlessly as teachers called for their students to follow them outside.

“Come on,” he said, scooping the nearest little girl into his arms. “Let’s go.”

“I’m scared,” she said.

“I’m big enough to keep you safe.”

Another little boy grabbed hold of his arm. Tears filled the kid’s eyes. “It’s too loud.”

“Then let’s go outside, where it’s quieter.”

He walked quickly, herding kids as he went. Teachers ran back and forth, counting heads, checking to make sure no one was left behind.

When Raoul and his group of kids reached the main doors leading outside, the children took off at a run. He put down the girl he’d been carrying and she raced toward her teacher. He could see smoke pouring into the sky, a white-gray cloud covering the brilliant blue.

Students flowed out around him. Names were called. Teachers sorted the groups by grades, then classes. Raoul turned and went back into the building.

Now he could do more than smell smoke. He could see it. The air was thick and getting darker, making it hard to breathe. He went room by room, pushing open doors, checking under the large teacher desks in front, scanning to make sure no one was left behind.

He found a tiny little girl in a corner of the third room he entered, her face wet with tears. She was coughing and sobbing. He picked her up, turned and almost ran into a firefighter.

“I’ll take her,” the woman said, looking at him from behind a mask and grabbing the girl. “Get the hell out of here. The building is nearly seventy years old. God knows what cocktail of chemicals is in the air.”

“There might be more kids.”

“I know, and the longer we stand here talking, the more danger they’re in. Now move.”

He followed the firefighter out of the building. It wasn’t until he was outside that he realized he was coughing and choking. He bent over, trying to catch his breath.

When he could breathe again, he straightened. The scene was controlled chaos. Three fire trucks stood in front of the school. Students huddled together on the lawn, well back from the building. Smoke poured out in all directions.

A few people screamed and pointed. Raoul turned and saw flames licking through the roof at the far end of the school.

He turned to head back in. A firefighter grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t even think about it,” the woman told him. “Leave this to the professionals.”

He nodded, then started coughing again.

She shook her head. “You went back inside, didn’t you? Civilians. Do you think we wear the masks because they’re pretty? Medic!” She yelled the last word and pointed at him.

“I’m fine,” Raoul managed, his chest tight.

“Let me guess. You’re a doctor, too. Cooperate with the nice lady or I’ll tell her you need an enema.”

CHAPTER TWO

THERE WAS NOTHING LIKE a community disaster to snap a person out of a pity party, Pia thought as she stood on the lawn at the far end of the Ronan Elementary playground and stared at what had once been a beautiful old school. Now flames licked at the roof and caused glass windows to explode. The smell of destruction was everywhere.

She’d heard the fire trucks from her office and had seen the smoke darkening the sky. It had only taken her a second to figure out where the fire was and that it was going to be bad. Now, as she stood on the edge of the playground, she felt her breath catch as one of the walls seemed to shudder before falling in on itself.

She’d always heard people talk about fire as if it were alive. A living creature with cunning and determination and an evil nature. Until now, she’d never believed it. But watching the way the fire systematically destroyed the school, she thought there might be seeds of truth in the theory.

“This is bad,” she whispered.

“Worse than bad.”

Pia saw Mayor Marsha Tilson had joined her. The sixty-something woman stood with a hand pressed against her throat, her eyes wide.