Nightwatch. Valerie Hansen
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don’t think it’s wise to discuss things like that in front of the children, do you?” Jill continued to soothe Timmy by slowly, gently stroking his hair.
“What? Oh. No, I suppose not.” She began to pace and rub her hands together, never straying far before turning and repeating the tight circuit. “I can’t understand what happened. Ellen almost never set foot in the office at all, and she certainly wouldn’t think of working on a weekend. She can’t have been in the office when it caught fire. She simply can’t have.”
“All I know is that they found the children in the main part of the house,” Jill said. “The firemen got them out safely before that started burning, too.”
Although the other woman didn’t seem to be paying attention, Jill continued, “Don’t you worry. We’ll take good care of your niece and nephews until the proper authorities get here.”
“Fine, fine.” Natalie sent a distracted glance toward the pile of bent, scorched tin and ashes that had been the Pearson Products business office and began mumbling to herself as she wandered away. “Ellen can’t be dead. I won’t believe it. It’s a mistake, that’s all. A big mistake.”
Timmy was still clinging to Jill’s knees and trembling. She bent and wrapped him again for warmth before lifting and balancing his light weight on one hip.
Hugging her neck, he took a shuddering breath, buried his face in the folds of the blanket lying against her shoulder and began to weep.
Tears were a good sign, Jill realized, because that meant he was probably moving beyond his initial anger and shock. Instead of trying to get him to stop crying, she held him close and let him grieve, praying for the right words to eventually help soothe his pain and the wisdom to know when to speak.
She ached for this little one. For all of them. At times like this, when her heart was open and most empathetic, she was even better at relating to emotionally needy children.
Jill knew for a fact that Ellen Pearson had been a sweet person, a loving wife, a dedicated mother. Assuming everyone’s sad assumptions were correct, Ellen had not meant to leave her dear ones. She had merely been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jill’s own mother, however, had made a conscious choice. Mama had turned her back on her only child and had walked away—forever—without so much as a wave goodbye.
By the time several hours had passed, Mitch was mentally and physically exhausted. The engine crews had managed to preserve most of the factory and all of the separate warehouse but had lost the fight to save the home and business office. That was considered a good result under such difficult circumstances. As far as Mitch was concerned though, they had failed.
He’d grown close to the Pearsons when they’d moved to town a few years back and had started attending Serenity Chapel. He’d coached Timmy and Paul on the church T-ball team and had often envied the family’s closeness.
Standing at the edge of the ruins, he was wiping his sweaty, gritty brow and remembering happier times when a hand clapped him firmly on the shoulder.
“We did all we could,” Chief Longstreet said. “Even with the extra units from all over the county and everything we had in town, it was a tough fight.”
“There’s no chance Rob and Ellen managed to get out?” Mitch asked, unwilling to let himself believe his friends were really gone.
“Don’t think so. Looks like the initial explosion blocked the office exit. If they were in there, they probably never knew what hit ‘em.”
“When we first got the call, I thought a plane had crashed. It’s clear that didn’t happen. So, did a gas leak start all this?”
“Could be. I’ve asked for investigators from Little Rock to come and look things over, just in case.”
Shivers shot up Mitch’s spine. “In case of what?”
Jim Longstreet gestured at the ground in the distance. “You’ve probably been too busy to notice but I spotted a few odd things. See the way some of the rubble is fanned way out from a central area? That doesn’t look right to me.”
“We all heard a blast.”
The chief nodded. “True. And if this turns out to be an accident, I’ll be happy to put that in my report. But until we can pin down a cause I’m going to keep needling the sheriff and anybody else who can give us some answers.”
He concentrated on Mitch. “Look, I know these folks were good friends of yours. Why don’t you go on back to the station and let the fresh crews finish mopping up? Things like this are tough enough when the victims are strangers.”
“I can still do my job.”
“I know you can. But we have plenty of extra help here now. I’ll make it an order if I have to.”
“I want to stay and see for myself first.”
“Sorry. I’m not letting anybody except the coroner poke around in there until there’s been an official investigation. Sheriff Allgood is gonna leave deputies to guard the site 24/7.”
Mitch removed his helmet and raked his fingers through his damp hair. “This has to be accidental. Everybody loved Rob and his family.”
The chief snorted. “I sure hope you’re right.”
Jill was waiting with Becky and the children when she saw a familiar figure approaching. She asked the pastor’s wife to mind Timmy while she stepped away to speak privately with Mitch.
“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said.
“We’re waiting for someone from Children and Family Services to take custody of the kids.” Reaching toward his hand, she stopped herself before they actually touched. “How are you doing?”
“I’ve been better.”
“Any sign of other survivors?”
He shook his head slowly, sadly, his sober expression accentuated by the smudges of black ash on his face and the aura of loss that hung over him like a storm cloud.
“I’m so sorry. I talked to Natalie Stevens after she tried to beat up on you. She’s a basket case.”
Mitch huffed. “Yeah. A lot of us are.”
He started coughing so Jill waited for him to quiet before she asked, “Why aren’t you still working?”
“The chief is sending me back to the station early. It wasn’t my idea. I just wanted to check that you were okay before I left.”
How typical of him, she mused, touched by his concern. “I’m fine. I am looking forward to getting home and washing some of this smoke out of my hair, though.” To her delight, that comment made Mitch chuckle cynically.
“Yeah. Right. Me, too,” he said, raising his hand to swipe at the grime on his cheeks. “I guess I got a little dirty, huh?”
“A little?” Jill chanced a smile. “You look like an urchin and smell like a smoked ham.”
“Thanks. You look nice, too, lady.”
She sobered. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you like that. Not now.”
“It’s okay. Cops and firefighters have ways of coping that seem strange to civilians. So do E.R. doctors and nurses. We’re always kidding around, even in really bad times. If we didn’t, I don’t know how we’d stay sane.” He turned away as more coughing racked his body.
Jill took the chance he wouldn’t mind and patted him lightly on the back. “Are you okay?”
“I will be. I always am.” She saw him look past her and zero in on the truck where Becky and the children waited. “Call me later and let me know how it goes with the kids, will you? I’ll be at the station.”
“Sure.”