The sound surprised her the most. The fire roared as it consumed. Walls creaked and groaned, beams snapped, steam from the water hissed. The ceiling crashed onto the floor.
Darcy couldn’t believe what was happening. Two hours ago the Hip Hop had been right where it was supposed to be and now it was disappearing before her eyes. People gathered around them, some talking quietly, others caught up in the awesome power of the flames.
Darcy wasn’t sure how long she watched. Gradually the fire grew smaller. The smoke changed from dark to light as the firefighters won their battle. Eventually there was nothing left but a pile of steaming rubble.
It was only then that Darcy realized what she’d lost. Not just her baking contract, but her job. Every source of income had just gone up in flames. Tears burned in her eyes. She turned to Mark to speak with him, only to find him in conversation with the sheriff and someone from the fire department.
“I’ll find out,” he was saying. He glanced at her. “Darcy, were you the last person in the building?”
He asked the question casually, as if inquiring about the weather. Yet it only took a second for the meaning of his words to sink into her brain. She’d closed the restaurant. This could all be her fault!
She grabbed his coat sleeve. “Mark, I know I turned everything off. The stove, the lights. All of it. There’s a checklist for closing up. I don’t do it very often, so I was working from the list, not from memory.”
“I know. It’s all right.”
She wanted to believe him, but there was something scary in his eyes. A distance.
He put his arm around her and drew her closer. Not to comfort her, she realized, but so that she could speak directly to the sheriff and fire chief.
“Tell them what happened,” he said.
Darcy outlined her last hour in the restaurant. She detailed as much of what she’d done to close up as possible. Her shaking voice made the telling a little difficult, but both men were patient. They asked her a few questions, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Melissa North, the owner of the Hip Hop Café, and a firefighter carrying a charred gas can in his hand.
“It was in the alley,” he said, handing it to the fire chief. “Right by the back door.”
Darcy’s head began to spin. Melissa gave a cry of alarm. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“Neither do we,” the sheriff told her. “But we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
He and the fire chief moved a short distance away. Darcy couldn’t hear what they were saying. She turned and saw that Mark had disappeared into the milling crowd. She felt very alone.
“I’m really sorry,” she forced herself to say. Her lips felt thick and it was difficult to speak. “I swear, Melissa, I didn’t do anything to start this fire.”
Her boss brushed away tears. “I believe you. If they’ve found a gas can, then it’s unlikely the fire was started by an electrical short or a burner left on. I guess—” She gave a soft cry. “I guess I’m going to have to remodel after all.”
A tall man appeared and put his arms around Melissa. Darcy recognized her husband, Wyatt North. He led his wife away. Darcy noticed that everyone else seemed to have a friend or loved one to lean on. Only she stood by herself.
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to speak with you again.”
Darcy turned and saw the fire chief. “I don’t understand. About what?”
“The fire. We’ll want to go over what you remember.”
“But the gas can. Isn’t that how it started?”
“It’s too soon for us to know.” He gave her a slight smile. “No one is accusing you of anything. However, we will ask you not to leave town in the next couple of days. We have a lot of information to collect.”
Darcy nodded because she couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. She had no job, no baking contract, no income at all and now she was being told not to leave Whitehorn?
“How you doing?”
She turned and saw Mark. Relief swept through her. Thank God, he was still here. She reached for him, needing to feel his arms around her, offering comfort. Instead, he pressed keys into her hand.
“I’ve got to get into the sheriff’s office,” he said absently, not even looking at her. “Take the truck and head home. I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave work, but I’ll have someone drive me home when I can get away.”
He gave her a quick, meaningless smile and disappeared into the milling crowd. Darcy was left standing alone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
