Read Online TORCH by Yvonne Collins, Sandy Rideout - Free Book Online

and once we’re out of earshot, I explain about my dream and the 911 call. “I was going to tell you, Regan, but it was embarrassing. I had no clue where it was, or if it was even real.”
    “But it was real,” she says, her eyes serious.
    “Looks that way. But how was I to know?”
    “It’s so weird,” she says. “There’s no way your dad is starting fires.”
    I sigh. “Just between you and me... I hope?” She nods, and I continue. “My dad has been drinking more. I don’t think it’s a problem or anything, but I’m worried. I hope he isn’t setting fires in churches or anywhere else.”
    “Of course he isn’t,” Regan says. “It’s against everything he stands for.”
    “Can you talk to your dad about what Bianca said?” I ask. “My dad’s having a tough time even without hearing the chief of police is gunning for him.”
    “Sure,” Regan says. When we reach the stairs, she turns and meets my eyes. “Is there anything else I should know? Before I talk to my dad?”
    Easing my sleeve over the burn on my hand, I shake my head. “Just tell him I’m having trouble getting over what happened to Nate. No more crazy calls after bad dreams, I promise.”
    “You know you can talk to me anytime, right?”
    “I know you’re the best friend anyone could have.”I throw my good arm over her shoulder. “Let’s find another club to join. There’s gotta be something Bianca hates.”
     

 
     
     
     
    I don’t even think about calling anyone after the next dream. Instead, I dress quickly and head out to the Jeep. This time the location is no mystery. The image I saw of a smoking stack of rubber means the only possible site is Leo’s Tires out on Miner Road.
    It’s been six days since the fire at St. Paul’s, and the warehouse fire was nine days before that. The arsonist is picking up speed.
    Before heading to Leo’s, I drive down the cobbled stoned main street to pass Hanover Enterprises, where Dad is assigned this week. The security company he works for sends him to different locations and I’ve taken to asking, as casually as possible, where he’s working each day.
    Circling Hanover’s, I see that Dad’s pick-up is not in the parking lot.
    I spend the eight minute drive, considering all the possible reasons Dad could be missing in the middle of his shift. It’s not like he could be running errands at one a.m., and he always takes his lunch with him. Maybe Uncle Rick texts when there’s a call because he knows Dad’s a fire-junkie and values his advice.
    Or maybe Dad has another way of knowing there’s a fire, like I do.
    I refuse to believe he’s at the site because he set the fire, although I can understand why he might want to. Starting paper on fire in the sink gave me enough peace to sleep. Burning down a church might help Dad forget Nate for six days. Assuming he’s had this ability since he was my age, he obviously mastered it well enough to work his way up to fire captain. If he’s starting random fires now, it means he’s lost control, and he must know it’s only a matter of time before he gets caught. It would destroy his career and reputation, and if anyone happened to get hurt in a fire he set, he’d end up in jail. Is he so depressed he’d risk leaving Graham and me to fend for ourselves?
    The thought makes me grip the wheel tighter and press down on the accelerator.
    At first, I mistake the smoke for fog, because there’s so much of it and it’s hanging so low. The screaming sirens are well ahead of me. It sounds like a lot of trucks. They’ve called in reinforcements from neighboring counties, which means it’s either a really big fire, or they’re planning to evacuate the neighborhood. Depending on how the winds push the toxic plumes, fires like this can be really dangerous.
    I drive around until I find a spot where I can see, and hopefully not be seen. After pulling a three-sixty to make sure there’s no one in the vicinity, I get out of the car and sit on