Page 87 of Lost Lake
He moved deeper into the room, eyes scanning every surface.
A sharp hissing sounded from the woodstove area. Also wrong.
“El, I?—”
An ear shatteringwhump, cut off his warning.
A flash slashed across the room. The white-hot streak of orange flames hit the wall and raced up.
“Get out!” He kicked it into gear, grabbing El’s hand on the way to the door, pulling her along.
Eyes wide, El slowed a fraction. “The evidence!”
“Doesn’t matter right now.” He tugged harder to get her moving faster.
Flames raced across the ceiling above. The air filled with an acrid smoke.
El coughed. Gabe couldn’t let her succumb to the smoke. He pulled harder on her hand.
They burst through the front door. Hit the rickety porch.
El stumbled. Fell to her knees, her breathing tortured by the smoke pouring out of the door behind them.
Gabe scooped her up. Tossed her over his shoulder. Smoke burned his chest, but he wouldn’t quit. He leapt from the porch.
“Fire,” he yelled at Price, who was gaping at the cabin.
Price spun. Dropped the tape and charged away.
Gabe was hot on his heels. He pounded across the grass. The heaviness in his chest begged him to stop, but he kept going. Didn’t stop until he believed they’d run far enough in case the outside propane tank exploded. It would take five minutes or more for the fire to heat up the propane, but better safe than sorry when building materials could fly fifty feet or more.
He settled El on the ground and gulped in deep breaths. Coughing out the smoke. Then breathing and coughing again. But all he could think about was sweeping El up in a hug to make sure she was fine. He couldn’t, wouldn’t touch her with Price standing nearby.
Rapidly breathing, eyes watering, she spun to look at the building. “The evidence. Fingerprints. DNA. Our suspect wasprobably all over that place, leaving valuable evidence behind, and we’re missing out on it.”
Gabe finally cleared his lungs and could breathe again. “Could be why he set a delayed ignition fire. Cleaning the place before he left would take time, and he needed to get away before the fire drew anyone to the scene.”
She flashed a look at him. “Then he wasn’t trying to kill anyone. He just wanted to cover his tracks.”
“That’s my take. And I have to say, he might be experienced in arson, because he didn’t use a common accelerant like gasoline. We would’ve smelled that. He used something that smelled sweet.”
“Yeah, I noticed the odor, but didn’t think it was a problem.” Anguish dulled her eyes. “I should’ve thought the scent was out of place and looked into it.”
“But why? None of us followed up on it. It’s not your fault.”
She shook her head, looking like she didn’t believe him.
Would she accept the blame and feel guilty for this, too?
“I need to report this to Mina and get a fire crew out here.” She stepped a few feet away and got out her phone.
Gabe turned to Price. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he said, but scrubbed a hand over his face. “Never seen anything like it. From building to blazing inferno in minutes.”
Gabe nodded.
A second blast ripped through the air. Deeper, heavier. A fireball rolled off the side of the structure, and something metal screamed. He didn’t think, just dove toward El and took her down. He landed on his elbows to spare her from taking his weight. Pain radiated up his arms—nothing compared to what El might’ve felt if the metal had reached her.
