Play dead

ONE HUNDRED TWO

5:55 AM

Byrne pulled into the long driveway, followed by Josh Bon trager and Dre Curtis, along with seven or eight sector cars. It would only be a matter of time until every available officer in the district arrived. Jessica's Taurus was parked halfway up the drive. She was not in it. Byrne didn't see her anywhere.

The three detectives emerged from their cars. Byrne began to direct a perimeter. He and Josh Bontrager approached the front of the house. On the way in, Byrne had gotten on his cell phone to Hell Rohmer and gotten a brief background on the property. In the 1800s it had been known as Prescott Square. Byrne realized it was the final piece of the puzzle. He couldn't help feeling they were too late.

Byrne drew his weapon, chambered a round. Bontrager covered him as he peered through the leaded glass. Byrne couldn't see anything except the distorted flames of a hundred candles. Music came from inside. Byrne reached out, tried the knob. Locked.

The two detectives backed off the porch, their weapons lowered.

That's when Byrne smelled the smoke.

"Do you-" he began, just as the first flame licked the inside of the front window.

Three seconds later, an explosion rocked the world.