1105 Yakima Street

“It certainly was,” Olivia said fervently. “Don’t ever hesitate to contact me in regard to Mom and Ben. About anything,” she emphasized.

“Me, too,” Will chimed in.

“Oh, yes,” Charlotte echoed, reaching for her daughter’s arm. “I feel much better now that my children are here.”

“What happened?” Will asked, still a little breathless. He glanced from Ben to Mack and back to Ben.

“I’m not sure,” Ben said, turning to Charlotte.

“I made lunch the way I always do—chicken noodle soup, which was on simmer—and then Ben and I sat down. We were reading when Ben said he smelled smoke.”

Ben nodded in agreement.

“I didn’t smell anything, so I didn’t worry about it. My new cooking magazine arrived today and they had twenty-eight recipes on how to use zucchini and I was absorbed in that. Then all of a sudden Ben threw down his book and let out a yell.”

“Yes,” Ben said, picking up the tale. “I saw flames.”

“Thank goodness Ben can deal with a crisis because I panicked. My first thought was that we needed to put out the fire ourselves, but by then the kitchen drapes were in flames, and it was…just too much.”

Mack cringed since trying to handle the fire themselves was one of the biggest mistakes homeowners made.

“One look told me it was already more than either of us could deal with,” Ben continued, “so I got Charlotte and Harry out of the house and used my cell phone to call 9-1-1.”

Mack was grateful that Ben had remained calm. Too many people stayed inside the home to contact 9-1-1, putting themselves at greater risk. “You did the best possible thing,” he said. “The first action to take is always to get everyone out of the house, then call the fire department.”

“What happens next?” Olivia asked, directing the question to Mack.

“The fire department will investigate the cause,” he told them.

“When will the investigator get here?” Ben asked, standing close to Charlotte.

“Usually within a couple of hours,” Mack told them.

“What about the Crock-Pot?” Charlotte said suddenly, clutching Ben’s arm. “I had tonight’s dinner in it. Should we try to find it in this mess?”

“Mom, I think dinner is the least of your problems,” Will inserted. “I’d assume the Crock-Pot’s a lost cause.”

Mack couldn’t remember seeing it, but his attention had been focused on putting out the fire.

“What can you tell me about dealing with the insurance people?” Ben asked, looking at Mack. “Will they get in touch with us or will I need to call them?”

“You’ll need to notify them.”

“The contact information is inside the house,” Ben muttered.

“Do you have the same carrier as you do for your car insurance?”

“Yes.”

“Then the phone number should be on your insurance card.” Washington state law required carrying proof of insurance when driving, so either Ben had the insurance card in his wallet or in the car’s glove compartment.

“Of course.” Ben grimaced. “I guess I’m more rattled than I thought.”

“It’s understandable,” Mack said. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure he wasn’t needed elsewhere and noticed that Andrew McHale, the fire investigator, had arrived. Before he could point him out, Andrew disappeared around the back of the house.

“How long will it be before we can go back in the house?” Charlotte asked. “I do hope everyone will be gone by five—that’s when Ben likes to watch Judge Judy.”

“Mom,” Olivia said, gently patting her mother’s hand. “You won’t be able to go back in the house. The kitchen’s going to need a complete overhaul. It might be several weeks before the house is livable again.”

“We can’t go back in the house?” she asked in confusion. “For several weeks? Why not?”

Mack realized that Charlotte hadn’t taken in what Olivia was saying.

“The kitchen’s been destroyed,” Will said, speaking slowly and clearly.

“I know that, dear, but the rest of the house is fine.”

“Still, you can’t live there until the damage to the kitchen has been repaired.”

“But…” Charlotte turned to Ben as if asking him to plead her case.

Mack understood that she was bewildered and uncertain; she didn’t seem to understand the gravity of what had taken place.

“But…where will we go?” Charlotte asked helplessly.

“Depending on the type of insurance coverage you have, the company might pay for you to stay in a hotel while the repairs are made,” Mack explained.

“A hotel?” Charlotte shook her head as though the very idea was repugnant to her.

“Mom, you can stay with me,” Will said. “I’m close to the house and—”

“Not a good idea, Will,” Olivia cut in. “You’re living at the art gallery. That’s no place for Mom and Ben. They’ll stay with Jack and me.”

The moment Olivia mentioned her husband’s name, he drove up—almost as though he’d been summoned. The town’s newspaper editor, Jack Griffin also did reporting duty when required; in this case he would have recognized the address. Accompanied by a cameraman, Jack headed in their direction, his ever-present raincoat billowing out from his sides as he strode across the lawn.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I called this meeting,” he said, introducing a bit of humor.

Mack smothered a laugh.

“Jack, this is no time to joke,” Olivia said, then hugged him. She seemed relieved that he’d come.

“Oh, Jack, they say we can’t go back inside,” Charlotte wailed. “I’m afraid this is all my fault.”

“No one’s blaming you,” Will said.

“I want Mom and Ben to come home with us until the house is repaired,” Olivia insisted.

“By all means.” Jack reached for his reporter’s pad, a spiral-bound notebook, and had his cameraman get photos of the firefighters as they prepared to leave.

“Jack!” Olivia glared at her husband.

“What?”

“You’re not going to interview my mother, are you? Can’t you see she’s distraught?”

“Ah…” Jack Griffin had the good grace to look sheepishly at his mother-in-law. “I am a reporter, Olivia, and this is news.”

“I don’t mind, dear,” Charlotte said, placating her daughter by patting her arm. “Ben was our hero, saving Harry and me and…oh, dear. Where is Harry?”

“We’ll look for him, Mom.” She turned to her husband. “Why don’t you talk to Mack,” Olivia suggested. “He can explain about the fire.”

Mack shook his head. It would be more appropriate if Jack talked to the squad commander. “I’m sure Chief Nelson would be happy to answer your questions.” He motioned toward him, and Jack left them, hurrying toward Chief Nelson, pen in hand.

Mack saw Jack scribbling furiously during his conversation with the chief, nodding several times. Once he glanced over his shoulder at his mother-in-law and frowned, which told Mack that the cause of the fire had most likely been attributed to Charlotte—just as he’d guessed. She must have been distracted and left something, maybe the soup she’d mentioned, on the stove. He remembered that she’d talked about reading a magazine.

“You’ll be coming home with us,” Olivia was saying when Mack returned his attention to Ben and Charlotte.

“But, Olivia…”

“Mom, you can’t stay here and you can’t stay with Will. Where would you sleep?”

“It would probably be best if you went with Olivia,” Will concurred as Ben nodded. “My apartment’s pretty small with only the one bedroom. I’d sleep on the sofa if necessary, but frankly, it makes more sense for you to go home with Olivia.”

Charlotte nodded. “I’ll need to collect a few things. Ben,” she said, “will you find Harry?”

“I’ll go in with you,” Mack offered. “It’s better if you don’t go anywhere close to the kitchen until after the fire investigator’s had a chance to finish his report and the insurance people have come by.”

Then Mack joined Ben in looking for the cat. They found him a few minutes later, cowering under the front porch.

“It’s all my fault,” Charlotte was saying when they returned, shaking her head as if to erase the memory of that afternoon. “Harry!” She held out her arms for the cat. “Oh, my sweetie…” She nuzzled his broad head and then raised her eyes to Olivia. “I’m still not clear on what happened… .”

“Don’t worry, Mom.”

“If Ben and I are going to be with you for several weeks, I’ll help you as much as I can,” Charlotte promised. “I’ll clean and cook and I won’t be a bother.”

“Mom, you’d never be a bother.”

“I’ll bake for Jack,” she said, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. “You know how he enjoys my baking.”

“Jack doesn’t need you baking for him, Mom.”

“Then I’ll cook him a pot roast. Jack’s fond of my pot roasts.”

“Jack’s fond of food, Mom,” Olivia said. “The fact is, I can’t think of a single thing you cook that he doesn’t dig into like a starving man.”

Charlotte beamed with pride. “Jack’s a man of discriminating taste. Haven’t I always said so?”

“Indeed.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mom, Mack and I’ll help you and Ben collect what you need, starting with the cat carrier. Then we’ll go to our house.”

“You’re sure about this?” Charlotte asked.

“Very sure,” Olivia said, and slid one arm around her mother’s waist.

Ben and Charlotte Rhodes would be fine, Mack mused as he followed them. They had family.

Three

Chad Timmons paced his Tacoma apartment and was so deep in thought, he nearly collided with the wall. That just proved it—the woman drove him to distraction. From the moment he’d met Gloria Ashton, it’d been an on-again, off-again relationship. Like some unpredictable wind, she blew hot and then cold. The worst of it was he’d put up with it. Well, he’d had about all he could take. He refused to play her games anymore—and that was what they were. Games. As far as he could see, there was no way he could win because she kept changing the rules. One day she wanted nothing to do with him. The next, she couldn’t keep her hands off him.

Fine. He’d decided he was finished. And he’d stuck to that. Until Roy McAfee had hurtled into his life like a meteorite on its passage to earth. The crater that blast had left was deep enough to bury him.

Gloria was pregnant—with his baby. He was about to become a father.

Talk about changing the rules…