Chapter 6 - Flames in the Night
"Fire!"
The single word ripped from Daniel’s throat with raw, primal terror.
He didn't hesitate. He vaulted over the back patio railing, sprinting across the dew-soaked lawn toward the detached guest house like a sprinter in an Olympic trial. The night air, crisp and cool moments before, was now thick with the acrid, choking stench of burning timber and synthetic insulation.
Flames were licking eagerly up the exterior wooden siding of the guest house, casting a demonic, flickering orange glow across the towering oak trees.
"Lily!" Daniel screamed at the top of his lungs, coughing as the smoke hit his lungs.
He slammed his shoulder against the heavy oak front door of the guest house. It held firm, reinforced by a deadbolt. Panic surged through his veins—the cold, calculating businessman was completely gone, replaced entirely by a frantic father fighting for a child's life.
Taking three steps back, Daniel threw his entire 190-pound frame against the door. With a deafening splintering sound, the lock gave way, and the door flew open.
Billows of thick, black smoke poured out into the night.
"Lily!" Daniel yelled, dropping to his hands and knees to avoid the heaviest concentration of toxic fumes near the ceiling.
He crawled into the bedroom area. Through the haze of smoke, he saw the bed. It was empty.
A wave of absolute horror washed over him. Was she still inside? Did she escape? Or was she trapped in the bathroom?
"Mr. Carter!" a terrified, coughing voice cried out from the small adjoining bathroom.
Daniel scrambled across the floor, pushing open the bathroom door. Lily was huddled in the corner near the shower stall, clutching a wet towel to her face, trembling uncontrollably as flames began to eat away at the hallway ceiling just outside the door.
"I've got you! Don't let go of me!" Daniel shouted over the roar of the fire.
He scooped her up into his arms, wrapping his own heavy wool jacket around her head and shoulders to protect her from falling embers and toxic smoke. Shielding her with his own body, Daniel turned and barreled through the collapsing doorway just as a massive section of the wooden roof beam crashed down right where they had been standing seconds before.
They burst out onto the lawn, tumbling onto the soft grass as Daniel rolled to extinguish a stray spark on his sleeve.
"Dad! Lily!"
Ethan came sprinting across the lawn in his pajamas, his face streaked with tears and soot, holding a garden hose that was barely doing anything against the roaring inferno.
"Are you okay? Are you both okay?" Ethan cried, throwing his arms around Lily, who was sobbing hysterically into his shoulder.
"We're safe. Everyone is safe," Daniel panted, gasping for fresh air as sirens wailed loudly in the distance, cutting through the suburban night.
Within minutes, two fire engines and a police cruiser roared through the iron security gates, red and blue lights flashing frantically against the dark estate. Firefighters swarmed the burning guest house, unleashing powerful streams of water that eventually beat back the hungry flames, reducing the structure to a charred, smoking skeleton.
A paramedic rushed over with oxygen masks, checking Daniel, Ethan, and Lily for smoke inhalation.
While the paramedics tended to Lily, a local police detective walked over to Daniel, holding a scorched, half-melted plastic container near the side window of the guest house.
"Mr. Carter, the fire marshal has already made an initial assessment," the detective said grimly, holding up the container. "This wasn't an electrical failure. Someone poured accelerant—gasoline—along the exterior wall and ignited it deliberately. This was arson."
Daniel stared at the charred remains of the guest house, his hands clenched into tight fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Arthur Vance," Daniel whispered, the name dripping with lethal intent.
"Who?" the detective asked, flipping open his notepad.
"The man who tried to kidnap her yesterday," Daniel said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "He threatened me on the phone less than ten minutes before the fire started."
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The detective’s expression hardened. "Do you have his address?"
"I have his home address, his workplace, and every bank account he operates," Daniel replied, pulling out his phone. "Let's go pay him a visit."
