“Anyone here?” The crackling of wood and hissing of the blaze was the only response. Mitzi or even the janitor could be in the back, trapped or hurt. He dodged a patch of flames as he wove past the tables and through the door leading to the kitchen. When he opened the door, flames danced along the back wall.
He glanced at the gas stove and wondered if that had been the source of the fire. Had Mitzi left it on by accident?
Behind him, his men moved in. They began to douse the flames and he scanned the room, searching. “Mitzi? Anyone in here?”
No answer.
He inched around the wood cabinet by the pantry door and the entrance to the small office. A piece of burning board splintered down, and he knocked it away with gloved hands then plowed around another patch of flames. He shone his flashlight in the pantry and yelled again, but there was no one inside. The bags of flour and sugar and other food products were erupting as he stepped back to check the office.
Cookbooks and menu guides filled a shelf above the desk where a computer sat along with other stacks of papers. Thankfully the office was empty.
They worked for over an hour to extinguish and contain the blaze. Sweat beaded Griff’s neck. He tasted ash as he finished up and searched for an accelerant. An empty lighter-fluid can lay in the corner of the kitchen near the stove.
Arson.
He asked Baxter to bag it for evidence and to look for other forensics once the embers died down and they could search more thoroughly.
With Ginny on his mind, he checked his phone. No word from her. Jacob had texted though.
Mitzi is not home. Looks like there was a scuffle. Blood on the floor. I think she was taken.
Griff’s blood ran cold, and he ran to tell Baxter that he had to go. Then he jumped in his car and headed toward Mitzi’s.
* * *
GINNY WAS SO exhausted she fell back asleep immediately. Being in Griff’s house had lulled her into a sense of security she hadn’t felt in years.
But an hour later, she woke with a start. A noise outside? Someone lurking at the window?
Grabbing her gun from her purse and her phone from the nightstand, she eased open the curtains. She peered outside, her breathing ragged.
On first perusal, no one was visible. But that didn’t mean someone wasn’t out there.
Fear knifing through her, she tiptoed to the bedroom door, pressed her ear to the wood and listened. No voices or footsteps. Her chest eased slightly. Griff had said he’d set the alarm, but Robert was tech savvy. If there was a way to disarm it, he’d find it.
She had to check the house before she could totally relax again. Griff’s words drifted through her consciousness. A fire in town. Mitzi’s diner.
She’d eaten at Mitzi’s. Had talked to the pretty young woman. Had questioned other people in the diner.
What if Robert had been watching? What if the fire at the café was his way of getting her attention? Or...what if he’d seen her being friendly with the woman and decided to hurt Mitzi to punish her?
Fear squeezed at her lungs, robbing her breath. No...not Mitzi...not another woman hurt because of her.
Anger compounded her fear, and she clenched her gun, then eased open the lock on the bedroom door. Griff had left a light on in the kitchen, illuminating it in a soft glow. The curtains were drawn over the French doors. The front door closed.
No sign anyone was inside.
Still, Robert could be lurking somewhere on the property. With acres of woods, there were dozens of places to hide. Or he could be with Mitzi, playing one of his mind games or physically hurting her before he...killed her.
Choking back a cry, she eased into the room and scanned the space. Just as it had been when she’d gone to bed. She inched toward the French doors, holding her breath with every step. When she reached the curtain, she summoned her courage and gently pushed it aside just an inch to look out into the forest.
A tree branch snapped off in the wind. Storm clouds rumbled. A few feet into the woods and she thought she spotted a light. Just a tiny pinpoint, no bigger than the point of a sewing needle.
A cigarette? A lighter?
Heart racing, she blinked to clear her vision and narrowed her eyes. Yes, there it was. A small light flickering against the darkness.
And it was moving. Coming closer.
Her hands trembled. Her legs felt weak. But Tess’s face flashed behind her eyes, and she raised her gun. Come on, Robert. I’m waiting. If you’re out there, just try getting to me.
She steeled herself as she watched the light move closer and closer and closer. Then it was in the backyard.
She glanced down at her phone for a millisecond. Considered calling Griff.
There was no time. She had to handle this herself. Get rid of Robert forever.
* * *
GRIFF THREW THE truck into Park in front of Mitzi’s.
Jacob’s police car was parked in the drive, the lights in the house’s interior shining. He hit the ground at a fast walk, then knocked at the door. “It’s me, Jacob.”
Jacob met him at the door. “Don’t touch anything. I called for an Evidence Response Team to process the house. If Ginny’s stalker kidnapped Mitzi, we have to follow the book. Any evidence we collect might help put him away.”
“Got it.” Griff wiped a hand over his sweaty hair. “I think the fire at Mitzi’s was arson. We found a can of lighter fluid in the kitchen. He probably turned on the gas stove and lit up the place.”
“How much damage?” Jacob asked.
“Mostly the kitchen and her office. Except for smoke and water damage, the front dining room is okay.” If they found Mitzi and she was safe, she could rebuild.
He just prayed she was alive.
Jacob gestured for Griff to follow him. Griff avoided touching the walls or doorway or anything inside. The living area looked undisturbed, lamps and bookshelves and furnishings neatly kept. Cookbooks lined an open shelf beside the window that overlooked the backyard in the kitchen. A collection of pottery in a dusty green color filled one shelf, and a coffee station occupied a corner. A large island with a stainless steel counter completed the room, a cook’s dream. Even the kitchen towels were lined up neatly and evenly on the towel rack on the side of the island.
“Everything looks intact,” he commented.
“Until you reach the bedroom,” Jacob pointed out. “That’s another reason to suspect foul play. She seems particular about her belongings but look in here.”
Jacob gestured to the open doorway into the bedroom, and Griff understood what he meant. The bedding was not only rumpled, but twisted and torn off the bed, dangling as if Mitzi had fought with someone. The bedside lamp was overturned, the glass base shattered. Blood dotted the floor beside it.