The Bones She Buried

Twenty-Seven

Mettner and Josie stood along the side of the road, across from where Denton firefighters fought the blaze that used to be Beth Pratt’s home. The night was alive with flashing emergency lights, and the heat and light from the fire made it feel like an afternoon in August. Beads of sweat formed along Josie’s upper lip and she swiped at them with the back of her shirtsleeve. “Where’s Mason Pratt?” Josie asked.

“He’s home. I’ve checked with the unit three times already.”

“I want someone inside the house with him.”

Mettner raised a brow. “Not sure he’ll allow that, but we can try.” He took out his phone and made some calls.

Josie watched the firefighters dragging more hose from a second truck that had pulled up right onto Beth Pratt’s front lawn. Flames shot out of the windows and ripped through the roof. Glowing orange embers floated above the entire area, and Josie felt a thin slice of fear, hoping they wouldn’t set the surrounding trees on fire.

Mettner hung up. “We’ll have two units on Mason Pratt, and one of the officers who is already there is going to wake Pratt up and see about getting one of our guys inside at least for tonight.”

“Thank you,” Josie said.

A blast of gray smoke whooshed in their direction, and as they both coughed and wiped at watery eyes one of the firefighters yelled at them to get back. They walked a little further up the road, out of the direction of the wind, where the cooler air was a relief.

A dark-colored four-door sedan rolled down the road, slowing in front of them. Josie was getting ready to tell the driver that he or she couldn’t make it through right now, but when the driver’s side window opened, she saw it was Chief Chitwood. “Beth Pratt’s house? Are you shitting me?” was all he said.

Chitwood swiped at his thinning hair. “I had to come by and see it for myself. For the love of all that is holy, this is a disaster. I’m not going to be able to keep this out of the press. You realize that, don’t you? This is gonna be a real shitstorm. You put extra units on the other Pratt kid?”

“Yes, sir,” Josie said.

“Why the hell is Beth Pratt’s house burning down, Quinn?”

“I don’t know, sir. Maybe the killer didn’t find what he was looking for the last time he was here and thought torching the entire place would get rid of it once and for all.”

Chitwood said, “You think Beth Pratt had something the killer didn’t want anyone to see? Like what?”

“We don’t know, sir,” Mettner said.

“Maybe, whatever it was, Beth Pratt didn’t realize it was important,” Josie suggested.

Chitwood opened his mouth to speak but Mettner’s cell phone rang, interrupting them. “Mettner,” he answered. Then, “Oh shit. Yeah, we’ll be right over.”

Josie and Chitwood stared at him as he ended the call. He said, “Mason Pratt was attacked in his home about twenty minutes ago.”