trucks to arrive.
The door beside Alex opened.
“Get out.”
Alex looked at the handgun, which was pointed directly at him. He got out of the car.
“This way.” Mr. Woolsey motioned with his head toward the tan house to the right of the fire.
Alex saw that Mr. Woolsey now held a length of rope in his other hand. He’s going to tie me up, Alex realized, and leave me in the second house.
“Go faster. Run!”
Alex jogged toward the empty building, with Mr. Woolsey directly behind him.
The first fire roared upward, almost to the roof. A dark, dense fog of smoke surged into the night sky.
I can’t let him do this, Alex thought. He’ll tie me and leave me there, and then—the realization made Alex’s stomach lurch—and then he’ll set fire to that house, too.
He’s gambling that I won’t be found until it’s too late. He’ll blame the fires on me after I’m dead. I’m the only one who knows who the true arsonist is, so if he blames me and I’m not here to defend myself, he’ll get away with it.
“Don’t yell for help, and don’t try to escape,” Mr. Woolsey said. “This gun is loaded, and I’m an excellent shot. I’ll say I caught you starting the fire and that I fired when you ran away. I’ll say I couldn’t tell who it was.”
Would anyone believe that? Alex wondered. Did it matter? He would be dead whether anyone believed Mr. Woolsey’s story or not.
Mr. Woolsey used a key to unlock the tan house. He pushed the door open. “Get inside.”
Alex stepped into the dark interior. Dim light from theburning building next door gleamed through the dining-room window to his left.
“This way,” Mr. Woolsey said, shoving Alex forward until they reached an open bathroom door.
“Put your hands on the wall,” Mr. Woolsey said.
Alex hesitated. Should he do as he was told and hope that help would come in time? Or should he bolt, taking a chance that Mr. Woolsey’s shot might miss him, and that he could hide or get away?
“Now!” Mr. Woolsey said.
Reluctantly, Alex put his palms against the wallboard. He couldn’t run for it when Mr. Woolsey was so close. Even a poor shot could hit a target that was in the same room.
Mr. Woolsey bound Alex’s feet with the rope.
“Put your hands behind you.”
Mr. Woolsey tied Alex’s wrists together behind his back, pulling the rope tight. “Now hop into the bathroom.”
With short, jerky jumps Alex crossed the threshold into the small bathroom.
Mr. Woolsey stood with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m sorry I have to do this,” he said, “but you shouldn’t have been sneaking around in the dark.”
“I wasn’t sneaking. I was trying to catch my cat.”
“I wish I had a choice, but I’m in it too deep to turn back now.”
“You’ll get caught,” Alex said, “even without me. My parents know I wouldn’t commit arson, and they know I was home with them when the first fire started. They’ll pursue this. You’ll be arrested.”
Mr. Woolsey pulled the bathroom door closed. Alex heard the doorknob jiggling and realized Mr. Woolsey was doing something to it from the other side so that the door wouldn’t open.
Alex heard Mr. Woolsey run toward the front door. He made himself stay quiet. As soon as Mr. Woolsey was gone, Alex would yell for help. He didn’t want to call out too soon, for fear Mr. Woolsey would come back and fire the gun through the bathroom door.
Alex knew that his parents or one of the other families in Valley View Estates would see the fire soon, if they hadn’t already, and that fire trucks would arrive.
He hoped that the firefighters would hear his shouts. If they didn’t . . . No. Alex wouldn’t let himself think about what would happen if they didn’t hear him.
Alex leaned against the door, straining to hear when Mr. Woolsey’s car drove off. Instead he heard the footsteps again, this time running toward the bathroom door.
For an instant, hope flared. Had guilt changed Mr. Woolsey’s mind? Was he
The door beside Alex opened.
“Get out.”
Alex looked at the handgun, which was pointed directly at him. He got out of the car.
“This way.” Mr. Woolsey motioned with his head toward the tan house to the right of the fire.
Alex saw that Mr. Woolsey now held a length of rope in his other hand. He’s going to tie me up, Alex realized, and leave me in the second house.
“Go faster. Run!”
Alex jogged toward the empty building, with Mr. Woolsey directly behind him.
The first fire roared upward, almost to the roof. A dark, dense fog of smoke surged into the night sky.
I can’t let him do this, Alex thought. He’ll tie me and leave me there, and then—the realization made Alex’s stomach lurch—and then he’ll set fire to that house, too.
He’s gambling that I won’t be found until it’s too late. He’ll blame the fires on me after I’m dead. I’m the only one who knows who the true arsonist is, so if he blames me and I’m not here to defend myself, he’ll get away with it.
“Don’t yell for help, and don’t try to escape,” Mr. Woolsey said. “This gun is loaded, and I’m an excellent shot. I’ll say I caught you starting the fire and that I fired when you ran away. I’ll say I couldn’t tell who it was.”
Would anyone believe that? Alex wondered. Did it matter? He would be dead whether anyone believed Mr. Woolsey’s story or not.
Mr. Woolsey used a key to unlock the tan house. He pushed the door open. “Get inside.”
Alex stepped into the dark interior. Dim light from theburning building next door gleamed through the dining-room window to his left.
“This way,” Mr. Woolsey said, shoving Alex forward until they reached an open bathroom door.
“Put your hands on the wall,” Mr. Woolsey said.
Alex hesitated. Should he do as he was told and hope that help would come in time? Or should he bolt, taking a chance that Mr. Woolsey’s shot might miss him, and that he could hide or get away?
“Now!” Mr. Woolsey said.
Reluctantly, Alex put his palms against the wallboard. He couldn’t run for it when Mr. Woolsey was so close. Even a poor shot could hit a target that was in the same room.
Mr. Woolsey bound Alex’s feet with the rope.
“Put your hands behind you.”
Mr. Woolsey tied Alex’s wrists together behind his back, pulling the rope tight. “Now hop into the bathroom.”
With short, jerky jumps Alex crossed the threshold into the small bathroom.
Mr. Woolsey stood with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m sorry I have to do this,” he said, “but you shouldn’t have been sneaking around in the dark.”
“I wasn’t sneaking. I was trying to catch my cat.”
“I wish I had a choice, but I’m in it too deep to turn back now.”
“You’ll get caught,” Alex said, “even without me. My parents know I wouldn’t commit arson, and they know I was home with them when the first fire started. They’ll pursue this. You’ll be arrested.”
Mr. Woolsey pulled the bathroom door closed. Alex heard the doorknob jiggling and realized Mr. Woolsey was doing something to it from the other side so that the door wouldn’t open.
Alex heard Mr. Woolsey run toward the front door. He made himself stay quiet. As soon as Mr. Woolsey was gone, Alex would yell for help. He didn’t want to call out too soon, for fear Mr. Woolsey would come back and fire the gun through the bathroom door.
Alex knew that his parents or one of the other families in Valley View Estates would see the fire soon, if they hadn’t already, and that fire trucks would arrive.
He hoped that the firefighters would hear his shouts. If they didn’t . . . No. Alex wouldn’t let himself think about what would happen if they didn’t hear him.
Alex leaned against the door, straining to hear when Mr. Woolsey’s car drove off. Instead he heard the footsteps again, this time running toward the bathroom door.
For an instant, hope flared. Had guilt changed Mr. Woolsey’s mind? Was he
Similar Books
