Broken Places by Sandra Parshall Read Free Book Online

him. “You can’t go in there!”
    Tom halted twenty feet from the house, his gaze raking the front windows, searching for a face. He saw nothing but gray smoke beyond the glass. He darted around to the back. Smoke spewed from open windows and swirled into the sky. The kitchen door was a solid sheet of fire.
    In their pen, half a dozen goats bleated in panic and banged their hooves against the chain link fence.
    Tom raced around to the front of the house, up the steps and onto the porch. He grabbed the doorknob, praying the door wasn’t locked. It was. Tom beat on it with his palms, yelling, “Mrs. Taylor! You in there? Meredith!”
    Brandon charged up the steps. “I finally got through on the radio. Firetruck’s coming.”
    “There’s no way they’ll get here in time to save the house.” Tom could hear the old, dry wood crackle and pop as flames ate into it. “The whole damned thing’s going to come down. But if she’s in there—I have to go in.”
    “Captain, I don’t think—”
    “Stand back.” When Brandon hesitated, Tom barked, “That was an order, deputy. Get down in the yard.”
    “Look, boss, you can’t—”
    Tom slammed his booted foot against the door. With a loud crack, the wood splintered and part of the door collapsed inward. Smoke poured out, enveloping him. Coughing, Tom kicked at the rest of the door until he had a big enough opening, then he stooped and edged through it.
    Smoke stung his eyes and throat and nostrils, and sweat poured down his face. He dragged a handkerchief from a pocket and swiped the perspiration out of his eyes, then clamped the cloth over his nose and mouth. No fire in the front room yet, but the smoke was so dense he couldn’t make out the furniture. Toward the rear of the house, leaping flames flashed red and yellow through the murk.
    Tom dropped to his knees and crawled a few feet into the room, using one hand while holding the handkerchief over his face with the other. His shoulder slammed against something hard and a spear of pain shot down his arm. Tears streamed from his burning eyes. He could barely see the outline of the coffee table he’d collided with.
    He uncovered his face long enough to yell, “Meredith! Where are—” A new odor clogged his nostrils and made him gag. The stench of burning flesh.
    “Captain, get out of there!” Brandon called from the porch.
    It was too late. If Meredith was in one of the back rooms, she wasn’t alive anymore. And he couldn’t go blindly into a wall of fire. He had no choice but to retreat.
    I’m sorry, Tom thought, envisioning the pretty blond woman who’d cheered for him at basketball games and made hot chocolate for him and her daughter afterward. I’m so damned sorry.
    ***
    Tom was standing in the road with Brandon, watching flames devour the house, when a voice from behind startled him. “Well, I guess I won’t have to put up with them no more.”
    Tom and Brandon swung around. An old badger of a man, low-slung and square-bodied, leaned on a cane and observed the burning house. Satisfaction showed in his little smile and the crinkles of amusement around his eyes.
    “Lloyd,” Tom said in acknowledgment. “You think this is a good thing?”
    Lloyd Wilson’s smile broadened. “Good for me. Damned glad to see it.”
    “That’s a callous attitude, even for the likes of you.”
    Anger lit Wilson’s cloudy brown eyes. “Don’t preach to me, boy.”
    Tom stepped closer and leaned into the man’s face. “Did you just call me boy ?”
    Wilson shuffled backward a couple of feet, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Your color don’t matter to me.” He added in a mumble, “You know what it’s been like between me and the Taylors.”
    “I know you’re always wasting our time, calling deputies out here to deal with crazy little stuff. Crap that reasonable people could handle just by sitting down and talking.”
    “Ain’t no talkin’ to Cam Taylor! Thinks he always