“But it’s also calling attention to the problems in his marriage. It lured Jennings back into their lives. He might have reached a point where he believes the children’s lives are a worthy sacrifice to try to keep piecing his marriage together. He never says he doesn’t want to be with her or that he wants them to separate. He even talks about longing. If he has an idealized version in his mind of what love is supposed to be and how their marriage could be what it should be, he might be willing to just hope we have enough to go on and will stop this guy without his involvement.”
A strange sound in the back of the house makes me stop. The hair stands up on the back of my neck as I listen. A steady, slow thump sounds like it’s coming from the stairs. I stand up, and a sudden burst of flame shoots across the wall, crawling along the paint and igniting the room. Embers like droplets of rain fall down on the furniture and papers, sending them up immediately. In seconds, the room is engulfed. I scream and turn to Sam, but he’s draped back across the chair, flames already consuming him.
I have to get out of the house. I move toward the front door, but a wall of flame stops me. It’s blocking the door and the window along the front wall. My only choice is to go through the house to the back door. I run out of the room and get to the bottom of the stairs. The thumping sound is louder here, and something dark moves above me. I look up and see a blackened figure moving slowly down the steps. The flames are so bright they sear my vision and make it difficult for me to see, so I keep running. A loud crack overhead makes me step back an instant before a section of the ceiling comes down in front of me.
A spray of embers stings on my face, and I gasp, filling my lungs with burning air and soot. With the ceiling collapsed in front of me, I can’t keep moving forward. I have to go back and hope I’ll be able to withstand the fire in front of the door. I try to remember if I locked it when Sam and I got here. It might be safer to just jump through the window.
I get back to the stairs at the exact moment the blackened figure steps down onto the bottom step. I recoil from it, but the burning living room stops me from getting more than a few feet away. It turns toward me, and I see Jake’s face, blackened skin melting away from the bones of his skull. He takes a step closer, and I lunge out of the way. From this angle, I can see behind him to something stretched out on the stairs. The object that made the thumping sound as he descended. In his hand are thick blond strands matted with blood and ash.
The hair he’s using to drag my mother down with him.
Something grabs me from behind, and I scream. But the sound doesn’t come out. Instead, my eyes open, and I feel Sam’s hand on my shoulder.
“Emma,” he says. “Are you alright?”
I look around. Everything is just as it was. My skin feels cool from falling asleep in the air conditioning. I can’t smell smoke or hear the angry crackle and hiss of the fire.
My nightmares found me.
“How long have I been asleep?” I ask.
“A little while,” Sam tells me. “We were talking, and you just started to fade. You had your head against the side of the couch, so I helped you lie down. It’s been about an hour.”
“What were we talking about?” I ask.
I pull myself up to sitting and cringe as a sharp pain goes through my head. Pressing the heel of my hand against the pain, I close my eyes.
“The handwriting in the journals and Vincent having this bitter, pushy side no one seems to know. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asks.
“My head. It really hurts,” I tell him.
“Do you have any aspirin?”
“There’s a bottle on top of the dresser in the bedroom.”
“Your old room?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, glad and uncomfortable for the familiarity.
Sam rushes away and a few seconds later comes back with the bottle. He hands it to me so I can shake pills into my palm and gulp down some water.
“What’s this?” he asks when I swallow.
I look over, and my heart sinks a little.
“Did you take that out of my room?” I ask.
“It was sitting beside the aspirin, and I was curious about it,” he explains.
“It’s a thimble,” I tell him, trying not to let the defensive anger I feel take over.
I forgot I took it out of the small bag I usually keep it in, so it’s sitting on the dresser rather than in my carry on.
“Did you suddenly take up sewing?” he asks.
I give a short laugh and shake my head.
“No. Actually, it’s a reminder,” I tell him. “When I first went to Feathered Nest and was settling into the cabin, I couldn’t open the drawer in the dresser. I found this wedged in the track. Later Jake told me his grandmother collected thimbles. Soon I found out that cabin belonged to his grandmother, so the thimble probably did, too.”
Sam looks back at me through darkened eyes.
“It’s a reminder of Jake? You keep something with you to remind you of a serial killer who manipulated you and tried to murder you?” he asks, his voice low and gravely.
“No,” I tell him. “I need a reminder of what I felt, and the choices I made, so it never happens again.”
Sam reaches forward and cups one hand around the side of my face. His thumb brushes over my lips, and I lower my eyes, so I don’t see that kiss again. If I don’t see it, I won’t have to wonder if I want it.
“Sam,” I whisper. “I can’t.” He starts to pull away, and I grab onto his wrist to keep him close. “But will you stay here tonight?”
“Stay here?” he asks.
“I feel safer with you here,” I tell him.
He nods. “I’ll stay on the couch.”
“There’s a guest room,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“I’d rather be near the door.”
He doesn’t explain why. He doesn’t have to.
Chapter Thirty
Sleep eludes me for the rest of the night, so I’m awake when I hear Sam moving around downstairs. A few seconds later, I hear his voice. I can’t understand the words he’s saying, but he sounds tense and on edge. I slip my feet into a pair of socks to insulate them from the wood steps and make my way down into the living room. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch, lacing his boots.
“You need to get in contact with his lawyer and find out what’s happening,” he says. “This doesn’t make any sense at all, and it could be a very serious situation. According to the law, because of the nature of his crime, the jail is under no obligation to inform you of his early release. That’s up to him, but the issue is, you are Eva’s legal guardians. He can’t just reclaim her. Whether he’s her father or not, Jimmy is not allowed to just step back in and interfere with the way you’re raising Eva. He especially can’t just take her away without your permission. I don’t know if that’s what’s happening, but if it is, she’s in danger just as she would be with the kidnapper. Maybe not in the same way, but Jimmy isn’t prepared or equipped to raise a child. After you’ve talked to his lawyer, get on the phone with every single friend, associate, contact, and anyone else you can get in touch with, who has had anything to do with Jimmy. We need to find him as quickly as possible. I’ll call you later.”
He hangs up the call, and I step up closer to him.
“Was that Janet and Paul?” I ask.
“Yes. They needed to know what Pastor Robins said yesterday. Now, he hasn’t been in town for as long as most of us, so it’s entirely possible he just thought it was Jimmy who showed up at the church looking for Eva. But I find that pretty unlikely.”