Burn It Up(101)

Casey approached the bedroom with one fist raised, poised to knock on the frame. He lowered it when their eyes met. “Hey.”

“Hi. Come in. What’s going on?”

He closed the door behind him and leaned on the dresser. If he noticed the red tissue was missing, he didn’t show it. She doubted something so trivial was on his mind now, even as that tiny present weighed on her own.

“Has anyone seen Don yet?” she asked, heart knotting between her ribs.

Casey shook his head. “It doesn’t look good. The barn was the last place anybody saw him.”

“Do you think . . . ?”

He nodded, just the barest dip of his chin.

Tears were slipping down her cheeks in an instant, as she let that fearful thought become real. “That’s . . . God, I don’t even know.” He’d been so good to her. Maybe not warm and paternal, but patient, welcoming, helpful. Caring, in his own practical, rational way. “How’re Christine and Miah?”

“I’m not sure it’s completely sunk in yet. I don’t think either one of them is ready to jump to conclusions.”

“I heard Miah talking to your brother.”

He nodded, then came to sit on the far end of the bed. “Vince heard about the fire while he was at work. Came right here . . . He had a weird feeling about it, I guess.”

“When will they know for sure? About Don?” Her body went cold, imagining people having to sift through all that smoke-stinking, dampened mess, looking for— She cut off the thought.

“Not long, I don’t think. Once everything’s cooled and the smoke’s cleared.”

“God, this is just awful.” There was no adjective that fit, none that didn’t sound monstrously inadequate. “Do you . . . You don’t think it was on purpose, though, do you? Like anything to do with whoever’s been sneaking around?”

Casey didn’t reply right away, expression clouded.

“Do you?” she prompted.

“It’s too soon to say. But I’d be lying if I said I’d be surprised.”

“Oh my God.”

“There’s no point thinking about it just yet,” he said gently.

“That’s so . . . I mean, did someone want to hurt him on purpose, or were they only trying to destroy the barn, or—”

Casey quieted her with a wave of his hand, smiling weakly. “We’ll have more answers soon. For now the most important thing is to be whatever it is Miah and his mom are going to need.”

He was right, and she did her best to block out the nagging, frightening thoughts.

“How’s she?” Casey nodded in the crib’s direction.

“She screamed herself hoarse while I was out with all the workers, waiting for the fire to die down. I don’t think she’ll be waking up anytime too soon.”

He heaved a loaded breath, slipped his hand under his open hoodie and rubbed at his chest. “I’m trying real hard to not work myself up about how close the two of you were to all that. How wrong it could’ve gone.” As he said it, his voice broke. Any fleeting worry she’d had about the fire having been anything to do with Casey evaporated in that instant.

She wanted to be close to him. Wanted his arms around her body and his soft voice in her ear, telling her it was going to be okay. Comforting lies, something to believe in while the entire world seemed to be coming apart around them.

But if she felt lost now, surely she’d only lose further track of her heart, if she let herself get too close. Clarity was in short supply at the moment, and never more so than when she tried to make sense of how she felt about this man. She pictured the necklace now hiding beneath her pillow, and that knot in her chest eased, though the tangle was as big a mess as ever.

“I need to talk to my brother,” Casey said, “but I wanted to check how you were doing.”

“Thanks. Do you think I should go downstairs? To try to help, somehow?”

He considered it. “Knowing Miah, he’ll be out of there the second he finds a decent excuse, looking for shit to tackle so he doesn’t get to think too hard about it all. But Christine could probably use the company. She’d been saying something about making coffee, for all the officials who’re taking statements and waiting for the investigation to get under way. I bet she could use some help with that.”

Abilene nodded. She’d bring Mercy down in the car seat and pray the baby kept on napping as long as possible. It was going to be a long day, and she had a terrible feeling that the answers they were all waiting on weren’t going to be good.





Chapter 25


Casey went downstairs with Abilene and the baby, the three of them joining the periphery of the scene in the kitchen. Vince, Miah, and Christine were seated at one end of the long table, talking quietly. Christine’s expression was calm, but her eyes were red and her hands shaky. Miah had a hand on her back, circling slowly, thoughtlessly, as the three traded empty consolations and theories about how Don could be anyplace—way out at the other end of the range, maybe, or who knew where. But Casey had seen the man’s truck in the front lot, as had they all, he bet. These weren’t words of comfort, merely words that gave the Churches permission to live in denial a little longer.

Casey kept quiet, standing by with his arms crossed, and Abilene set the baby in her rocker while she went to load dishes in the washer, her motions careful and quiet, respectful. Fragile.