Chapter 4: Vacation Condo – August 20 – 12:30 a.m.

After two hours with the local police, Lee was looking forward to a hot shower and crawling into bed with his wife. Snuggling up to Amanda would be compensation enough for today's frustrations. Climbing the stairs to the condo, he heard screams coming from inside the unit. "Oh my God." Reaching for his revolver, he slid the key into the lock and barged through the door, gun first.

Shrieks erupted and hands shot into the air as he stared at the horrified faces of his children. "What the hell?" Catching his breath, he pointed the gun toward the ceiling.

Phillip recovered first. "A little trigger happy there, aren't you, Lee?"

"Damn it, I heard screams."

Jamie laughed. "We're watching the movie, 'Poltergeist.' The girls got scared."

"Sorry, Lee," his daughter-in-laws chimed in together.

Matthew and Robert bolted to his side as he slipped his gun back into the holster. "Gee, Dad," Matt said, his eyes as round as saucers. "Are you working tonight?"

"Not really, buddy. I was just out checking on a little matter."

Robby nudged his side. "Need to know, huh?"

"It's nothing, guys." Placing his arms around their shoulders, he walked them back to the sofa. "Are Jenny and Mom asleep?"

"Not anymore." Clearly annoyed, Amanda stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, her arms hugging her thin frame. "Honestly, Lee, did you have to come in with your gun drawn?"

"Well, yeah. I was standing out in the pouring rain when the screaming started. I wasn't going to ask questions first and take necessary precautions later."

"I know, sweetheart. They frightened me, too." Amanda motioned him into the bedroom. "Get in here," she said, tossing her robe on the bed and reaching to hug him.

Lee dodged her embrace. "I'm soaked to the skin," he warned, carefully removing his jacket and hanging it on a hook. Then turning around, he saw they weren't alone. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to the long lump in their bed. "Is Mandy under the covers with her stuffed giraffe?"

"No, it's Jenny. She has an upset stomach, so she crawled in with me."

"I hope she's okay," he said, at the same time wondering if they'd ever have the bed to themselves. Removing his gun and holster and locking them in his suitcase, Lee shook his head at the absurdity of their sleeping arrangements. "Next time we take a family vacation, let's give the master suite to the kids, and we'll tough it out in a small bedroom. Maybe the old folks will have more privacy that way."

Amanda smiled knowingly as she helped him shrug out of his wet shirt. "So, how did it go with the police?"

He nodded toward the bathroom and led the way in, closing the door behind them. "Honestly, we can't catch a break. After two hours, I came up empty."

"Oh, Lee, that's awful." Amanda sagged against the vanity, her thin nightgown leaving little to the imagination.

Pulling his mind from the enticing vision before him, Lee attempted to brief her on his investigation. "The police have no clues to Nate's whereabouts, nor do they have any knowledge of a Kearsley family in Bar Harbor. If the kid is staying in the area, like he told Jenny, it's a mystery to everyone."

"What about Jean? Did anyone contact her?" Amanda toyed with the buttons on her gown as Lee turned on the shower and stripped down.

"No," he said, stepping into the steamy spray. "Our efforts to contact Jean Kearsley failed miserably."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry you had to go on a wild goose chase."

Lee stuck his head around the shower door. "You could make it up to me," he said with a wink. "Just lock the damn door and get in here with your husband. The least you can do is wash my back."

"Hmm," she said with a sly smile. Hesitating briefly, she pretended to give his invitation careful consideration. Then nodding, she placed her hand on the lock and secured it in place. About to pull her nightgown over her head, she stopped in mid-motion when a hard knock hit the door. "Mom," Robby called in panic mode. "Matthew's throwing up, and I don't feel so great, either."

Sighing softly, Amanda turned toward her husband. "You're right, sweetheart; we can't catch a break."


SMK, SMK, SMK

Awaking in the middle of the night, Amanda read the numbers on the digital bedside clock. Her tired mind registered the ungodly hour of four o'clock and the fact that both her husband and daughter were missing from the bed. Apparently Lee never returned after he decided to watch the movie with the night owls, and Jenny must have awakened and finally abandoned ship.

Worrying about the bizarre situation with Nate and the stomach bug being passed around her family, she tossed and turned for thirty minutes. Finally giving up on sleep, Amanda padded into the living room. There was her husband, snoring softly as he lay sprawled in a recliner. Jenny was curled in a ball on the futon, and the twins were buried under a blanket on the sleeper sofa. Deciding to enjoy the sounds of the surf, Amanda slipped on a coat and stuck her feet into Jenny's Crocs. Then pulling open the sliding glass door, she stepped into the murky night.

The rain had finally ended, leaving the deck furniture soaked with standing water. Reaching into a storage bin, Amanda retrieved dry cushions and arranged them on the chaise lounge. Then taking a front row seat for stargazing, she listened to the sound of the surf and silently searched the heavens for inspiration.

Maybe the answers to her troubling questions were somewhere out there in the vast universe or maybe simply hiding deep within herself. Examining the familiar constellations, she reflected on the family's transitions – the twins' personality shift as they entered their teens, Jenny's declaration of independence, and Lee's reluctance to loosen the reins on his children.

In many ways her husband's obsessive protectiveness mirrored his actions when she achieved full agent status. Not only had he resisted the new autonomy of his protégé, but he'd balked at her return to the field after she'd recovered from a gunshot wound. They had butted heads for months until Lee finally allowed himself to step back and cheer her on as she spread her wings. Now it was time for Lee to bow to the changing stages of childhood and youth, for his own sake and for the sake of the entire family.

Finally feeling a sense of peace, Amanda pulled her warm barn coat more snuggly around her nightgown and nestled into the cushions. Exhaustion seemed to overtake her, so she closed her eyes for just a moment. Maybe a few extra winks would prepare her to meet the new day.

"Hey, sleepyhead, it's time to wake up." The words called to her through the hazy images of a nonsensical dream.

Opening her eyes, Amanda was surprised to see the sun shining brightly in the sky and the tall figure of her husband standing over her. "Oh, sweetheart, I must have dozed off."

"Yeah, for hours. I searched everywhere before I found you out here. After our rough night, I decided to let you sleep."

"Are the kids okay?"

"They're fine. Whatever you gave the boys seemed to settle their stomachs." Lee turned away and focused his attention on the ocean view. "Everyone else, except Jenny, is dead to the world," he called over his shoulder.

Amanda cringed at his word choice. "Well, I wish you had awakened me; we have a big day ahead." Noting the rigidity of his back, she wondered what else was going on. "Is there any news about Nate?"

"Nothing."

"How's Jenny taking the silence?"

"It's hard, but she's like her mother – patient and optimistic."

Rising slowly and stretching out the kinks in her body, Amanda studied Lee as he rested his forearms on the railing and stared out to sea. "It's a beautiful day, sweetheart."

"Yeah," he said, his voice sounding flat. "God, I'm glad it stopped raining."

Moving next to him, Amanda felt familiar warmth fluttering in her chest. Irresistibly drawn by his strong masculinity, she wrapped a hand around his arm, where the green polo shirt brushed his bicep. "It's going to be a glorious day. The water is sparkling like diamonds, and the sky is a vibrant blue. I'm so glad we agreed to take the 'CAT' over to Nova Scotia."

Lee shrugged, but said nothing.

His silence spoke volumes. Something was bothering him besides the mystery of Nate. She cautiously danced around his bad mood. "I think you guys stayed up too late watching scary movies. 'Poltergeist' probably disturbed your sleep."

"I slept fine," he said, growling like an angry bear.

She rolled her eyes. "How much sleep can you get in a recliner? Honestly, Lee, you abandoned me in a king size bed."

"Only you weren't alone. Jenny was there."

"She left at some point, and I woke up all alone in the middle of the night." Hoping to penetrate his shell, Amanda gently glided her hand around the waistband of his jeans and rested her fingers on the small of his back. "Really, Lee, we need to get on the same page if we want to enjoy some romance on our trip."

"Humph, romance will need to take a ticket and get in line." Abruptly he broke their physical contact and stood ramrod straight in front of her. "Amanda, I hate like hell to disappoint you, but I made a unilateral decision about our plans."

"Oh?" She crossed her arms over her chest, bracing for his proclamation.

His eyes were stormy as he groped for words. "I, ah, decided against buying the ferry tickets to Nova Scotia."

"Why?" Amanda bit her lip, valiantly trying to control her temper. "Sweetheart, the rain has practically made us prisoners in the condo. Everyone has been looking forward to the trip."

"I'm well aware of that fact," he said tersely. Then sighing, Lee trained his eyes away from her gaze. "When Jenny and I got up at the crack of dawn to go buy the tickets, the peculiar man with the fishing hat was sitting outside our building. As soon as he saw us, the guy got up and followed us downtown. When he showed up in the ticket line, he butted in and attempted to engage us in conversation. Bottom line – we left without the tickets."

"Honestly, Lee," she said with exasperation. "You're not going to harp on the nice old man again, are you? Mr. Baxter may be talkative, but he's probably just lonely. You can't be serious about expecting foul play?"

"I'm dead serious." Lee pinched the bridge of his nose, giving early warning that a full-blown headache was taking hold. "Listen, Amanda, if we get on that ferry we'll be stuck on high seas for three hours. The kids will be all over the boat. You know damn well there are two eateries, a gift shop, and a movie theater, not to mention seats in four separate sections. We can't watch everyone at once."

Desperate to end the standoff, Amanda bit back a scathing rebuke. "Okay," she finally said, conceding victory to him. "You win. We're not going to take the high speed ferry."

Lee's whole body sagged with relief as the old Stetson grin slid into place. "Thank you." Reaching for his wife, he pulled her close. "I owe you one."

"Fine," she said, sliding her hands around his neck. "I'd like to collect now."

"What did you have in mind?" he teased, moving in for a kiss.

With a devilish laugh, she pulled back. "Not romance, pal. You missed your chance. Now I want carte blanche to rally the troops and enjoy a real vacation day of our choosing."

"I should have known." With a heavy sigh, Lee extended his arm toward the deck door. "Be my guest, but don't blame me if today comes back to haunt us."


SMK, SMK, SMK

After the family's initial disappointment, everyone finally agreed on a new agenda. Lee, Matt, and Robby decided to go horseback riding on the carriage trails in Acadia National Park. Phillip and Heather chose to take Mandy to a children's amusement park. The rest of the team planned to soak in some of the rich history of the area.

"Behave your selves, fellas," Amanda called to Lee and the twins as she joined her daughter in the backseat of Jamie's Jeep.

Upfront, her son conferred with Lisa and then made their preferences known. "Let's drive around town and see what we spot. I know the area is crawling with exciting history. We can probably see a number of mansions of the rich and famous. Too bad, most of the estates burned to the ground in the 1947 fire."

Amanda reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a bunch of brochures. Dangling them over the front seat, she put Jamie and his wife in charge. "Choose something."

Lisa thumbed through the leaflets. "Oh, there's an historical presentation of Mount Desert Island near here. We should take a right at the next light."

Jamie maneuvered the Jeep through the snarled tourist traffic and finally pulled onto a quiet tree-lined street. Going two blocks toward the steep landscape, he came to a stop in front of a three-story Victorian home. Painted a celery green and lemon yellow, the house was graced with a large wrap-around porch and white gingerbread trim. The generous grounds were shaded with sugar maples, white birch and spruce trees. The final touch was a high wrought-iron fence that surrounded the perimeter of the property.

Jenny stared up at the imposing structure. "Wow, even the windows have wrought-iron bars. The house looks creepy to me."

Amanda reached over and patted her daughter's tan leg. "It is a curious attraction, but the place has a lot of charm. Someone truly loves to garden. The pansies, peonies, and hydrangeas have been pruned with tender care."

Lisa consulted the pamphlet once more. "The information says the place opens at ten o'clock. We're just in time." Opening her door, she beckoned to the others.

Gathering on the sidewalk, the little group walked through the gate and made their way to the porch steps. At the same instant, the front door creaked open, and they were greeted by none other than Oliver Wendell Baxter. Too late, Amanda realized her mistake. She'd totally forgotten about the leaflet he'd given her at Thunder Hole. Unfortunately, it was the very one chosen by Lisa.

"Welcome, Mrs. Stetson," the old man called. "I'm glad you and the family could come to browse my collection. Young people love a good fire story."

The bumbling gentleman of the park tour seemed delighted to see them. On his own turf, he appeared more in command of his faculties, and he'd definitely improved his appearance. Missing were his rumpled fishing hat and bulky leisure suit, replaced instead with a spiffy sports coat, crisp white slacks, and red bow tie. Even his kinky curls had been neatly brushed into place.

Thinking about Lee's bizarre encounter with the man, Amanda's instincts went on high alert. Cautiously she debated the wisdom of entering Oliver's domain. Rooted to the sidewalk, she felt like someone had just walked on her grave.

Mr. Baxter interrupted her thoughts as he painstakingly descended the steps, his limp still very apparent. Extending his arm, he graciously assisted her to the wide porch. Then with a grand gesture, he ushered the others through the sturdy oak front door. Detaining Amanda briefly, he pulled an envelope from his inside coat pocket and placed it in her hand. "Please read my letter at the first opportunity. We need to talk."

Startled, Amanda gingerly held his missive as if it were an explosive device. My God, what now? Seeing the others watching, she slipped the envelope into her purse.

Jamie moved closer, his eyes questioning. "Mom, our host looks like the suspicious guy on our tour. I don't think Lee would be happy we're here."

"I know," she said, masking her reservations with a tight smile. "We'll have a brief visit and be on our way."

After entering the foyer and introducing the others, Amanda perused the stunning surroundings. The house had a personality all its own, practically throbbing with the vigor of life. Tall stately windows welcomed the sunshine, and a grand winding staircase swept downward to the shiny hardwood floor.

Amanda was relieved to note the elaborate art collection of Mount Desert Island and the meticulous paintings of Acadia National Park. With its attractive displays and extensive library, the place appeared to be a small authentic museum. The front parlor was set up with folding chairs. An overhead projector stood ready on a table, and a screen was standing in front of the fireplace.

Mr. Baxter extended his arm toward the parlor. "I've organized a show of old photographs taken during the 1947 fire on Mount Desert Island. Would you be interested in seeing my presentation?"

"Sounds great," Jamie said as he placed his hand on the small of Lisa's back and steered her toward the seating.

Jenny stayed by her mother's side. "I still think the house is spooky."

"It just smells a little musty, sweetheart." Amanda took Jenny's hand, not only reassuring her daughter, but herself as well.

Mr. Baxter escorted them to the first row of chairs and then pulled the shades in the bay window. "I guess we can get started. Tourists don't often come so early in the morning." Turning on the projector, he fumbled with the focus. As he fiddled with knobs, he gave a little background leading up to the start of the fire. "The summer of 1947 was beautiful, but the area received only about fifty percent of the normal rainfall. Vegetation dried up and water supplies dwindled. Everyone assumed that the autumn rainfall would make up for the summer drought, but the rains never came. The stage was set for a disastrous fire."

It took a few tries before Oliver had the picture in focus. The first grainy photo depicted a brush fire close to the great pines of the Acadia forest. "The date was October 17, 1947," he continued in a crystal clear tone that captivated his audience. "The fire department received a call from a woman living west of Hulls Cove. She reported seeing smoke coming from a cranberry bog. No one worried at first because the fire smoldered underground and burned a relatively small area. However, on October 21, strong winds fanned the flames. Soon the blaze spread rapidly, raging out of control and engulfing over two thousand acres."

Amanda glanced at the rest of her gang. They all seemed absorbed by the presentation. So far, so good, she thought as she fingered the envelope in her bag. Ignoring the urge to peek, she concluded the time wasn't right to read it.

The next photo clearly showed an immense forest fire. Mr. Baxter's voice grew with excitement as he described the event. "On October 23, the wind shifted, causing a raging inferno that headed directly toward Bar Harbor. In less than three hours, the wildfire swept down Millionaires Row, an amazing collection of stately summer cottages on the shore of Frenchman Bay. Sixty-seven of the seasonal estates were destroyed. The fire also razed 170 permanent homes and five large historic hotels in the area surrounding downtown Bar Harbor."

"Oh my gosh," Jenny said, chewing her nails, in her sure-fire method to tame her anxiety.

Amanda began to relax a little. Oliver Baxter's peculiar actions may have raised some red flags, but he seemed in command of his facts today. And, surprisingly, his presentation was thoroughly professional. He had a wonderful speaking voice, so unlike his "aw shucks, ma'am" twang he employed at Thunder Hole.

Lisa raised her hand. "Did people escape by car?" she asked.

"At first they did." Oliver seemed pleased by the audience participation. "However, on the afternoon of October 23, the fire traveled six miles and blocked all the roads out of town. Thankfully, that evening, bulldozers opened a pathway through the flames and rubble. Seven hundred automobiles, carrying two thousand people, began the slow trip to safety. Those who escaped by car described a terrifying ride. Vehicles were pelted by sparks as flames flickered overhead. By the end of the day, eleven thousand acres had been blackened."

"Wow," Jamie said. "How did others get out?"

"By water." Mr. Baxter put up several more pictures in quick succession. "Local residents, who weren't fighting the fire, fled to the athletic field and then to the town pier. Fishermen from other towns came with their boats to remove hundreds of people by sea."

Lisa spoke up again. "How did they stop the fire?"

"The fire blew itself out over the ocean in a massive fire ball." Hesitating, Oliver suddenly seemed upset. Nervously hobbling toward the door, he seemed to sniff the air. Then turning to the group he announced, "I smell smoke. We'd better leave now."

No one moved. Mr. Baxter had to be joking.

"Hurry people," he yelled, panic rising in his voice.

Then Amanda smelled it, too. She was on her feet in a snap. "Let's go," she ordered. My God, all Lee's suspicions were coming to fruition. Rushing to the foyer with the family on her heels, she caught up with their host.

Oliver Baxter was frantically trying to open the front door, but it appeared stuck. His hands were visibly shaking as he wrestled with the lock. "Someone has turned the dead bolt and taken the key."

Amanda and the girls ran to the bay window and pulled up the shades. "Oh my gosh, the windows are barred."

Oliver waved his arms, signaling his intent. "Follow me," he hollered. "We'll leave through the back door." Like a stampeding herd of cattle, they raced through the house, the old man barely keeping pace with his guests. As they reached the dining room, smoke could be seen pouring from the kitchen. "Go back," Baxter warned in a high shrill voice.

Anxiously they retraced their steps. By now flames were visible from the top of the staircase. Trying to reach the roof was no longer an option.

Jamie tossed his cell phone to Lisa. "Call 911," he yelled, his voice sounding thick with alarm. Then joining Oliver at the front door, they struggled again with the lock.

Amanda turned to her daughter. "Jenny, call Dad. He needs to know what's happening."

Running from window to window, Amanda searched for any possible exit. There had to be an opening somewhere. Overhearing a desperate Jenny breaking the news to her dad, she longed to hear her husband's voice. My God, if they didn't climb out of this inferno, she'd never hear his voice again. Chances were slim to none that Lee would ride in on a white steed in time to save the day. No, if they were going to make it out, her dependable instincts needed to kick in fast.

Then she saw it – a ray of hope, shining through the stain glass transom, just above the front door. "Look," she cried, pointing to the luminous gold and green window. "It's hinged, so it should be movable. If we can fit through the opening, we have our escape hatch."

The others nodded and began moving furniture. Jamie and Oliver shoved over a Duncan Phyfe table and Lisa added a matching chair. After pocketing her phone, Jenny wiped tears from eyes and grabbed a stack of large books to add to the pile. "I caught Daddy at a western attire shop," she said, her voice quivering with fear. "They haven't left town yet. He's really upset, but he's already on his way here."

Amanda hugged her daughter. "Okay, here's the plan." We need Jamie to squeeze through the opening and jump to the porch. Then each of us will slide through, and he can assist us on the other side. Just pray we fit."

Coughing now from the smoke, Jamie eyed the escape route and then plunged ahead. "Here I go," he said, pausing only to squeeze Lisa's hand. Boldly climbing to the highest perch, he searched for an opening. "There's nothing to grab onto," he hollered. Jamming his fingers into the rim, he tried to find leverage.

Amanda rummaged through the compartments of her large shoulder bag until her hand closed over a sharp object. "Here," she said, handing up a fingernail clipper.

Jamie managed to wedge the sharp stem into the rim and yank the transom away from the doorframe. Then pulling his body upward, he twisted and wiggled like Harry Houdini until he maneuvered through the opening and dropped to the porch floor with a thud.

Choking now from the pungent fumes, Amanda stood on the table and quickly assisted both girls and Oliver with their ascent. As she heaved the old man's thin legs toward the opening, she felt out of breath and out of time. The flames were devouring the banister and stairs and the smoke was sucking the oxygen from the room. Weak from the effort, she cautiously scaled the makeshift ladder and struggled to hoist herself through the transom.

"Mom, come on," Jamie called, raw panic evident in his voice.

Swinging a leg across the window, she slid her hips and trunk through the narrow passage and felt her son's long arms guide her body to safety. With feet finally on the floor, she took the first saving breaths of life and leaned into Jamie as he rushed her to hallowed ground, amidst the trees and shrubs and flowers. "Thank God, we made it," she sighed, luxuriating in the tight embraces of Jenny and Lisa.

After getting her bearings, danger trumped relief. Counting noses, Amanda came up short. "Where's Mr. Baxter?" she shouted.

Jamie scanned the periphery. "Over there," he cried, pointing toward a basement window. "He's helping more people from the house."

Paralyzed by the sight, everyone starred in disbelief as two men and a woman crawled from the depths of a certain tomb. At any second, the basement would surely be buried under a pile of rubble.

Jenny caught on first. "Nate," she screamed as she took off running. In seconds, she flew into welcoming arms.

"What's going on?" Jamie demanded.

Amanda studied the new arrivals, her eyes immediately drawn to the attractive blonde woman. As recognition dawned, she gasped. "Oh my gosh, it's Jean and Nate Kearsley . . . and someone I don't know."

Gasping for air, the little group merged with the others. Amanda reached out first and pulled Jean into a fierce hug. "What a way to have a reunion," she cried, rocking her friend back and forth while joy and despair competed for dominance.

Approaching sirens wailed, and emergency vehicles rumbled down the street. In the lead was the Stetsons' van, yielding the right away to no one. Pulling up on the neighbor's lawn, Lee screeched to a halt and flew from the vehicle like a bat out of hell. In a matter of seconds, he was there, sweeping Amanda and their children into his long arms.

"Sweetheart, we're okay," she assured him when he finally heaved a sigh of relief.

His mouth moved in anguish, but no words would form. Closing his eyes, he all but crushed her to his chest. "God," he finally choked, "I was afraid you'd all be dead."

"I know, Lee. It was a very close call." Sinking deeper into his embrace, she barely glimpsed the frightened faces of Matty and Robby watching from the van as the grand old house was consumed by fire. Managing a wave of reassurance for the twins, she sagged against her husband, wishing for nothing more than the safe haven of the Stetsons' Maryland homestead.

Then a voice breeched their space, calling their attention to the other survivors. "Amanda, Lee," Jean said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the police want to talk to us."

Lee looked up in surprise, taking in the familiar face of Jean Kearsley. "Oh, my God, you're here?"

Wiping soot from her cheeks, Jean beckoned to her companions. "Lee and Amanda, you remember my son, Nate, and I think you both met my father, Oliver Baxter. "I'd also like to introduce Dr. Malcolm Earl Jessup, my boss and an eminent climate scientist."

"Dr. Jessup, it's an honor," Amanda said with a gracious smile.

Lee stood slacked-jawed as he studied the bedraggled group. "Dr. Jessup," he finally said, "We're federal agents and have been briefed on your work and the threats you've received. We want to help you."

The climatologist smiled with relief. "Good, we're looking forward to talking with you."

Oliver Baxter stepped forth, proffering his hand to Lee. "I apologize for being a pack of trouble, but, in my own clumsy way, I was trying to gain your trust. Now you can see why I followed you."

"I asked my father to invite you here," Jean said. "When Nate discovered Jenny's social media web page, I assured my family the Stetsons would help us."

Amanda exchanged a wary look with her husband as she silently kissed their vacation good-bye. "We'll need to get you to a safe location – right now."


TBC