At last, a breath. What was left of the old man began to writhe in pain as the air rattled through his lungs.
Ed sat back on his heels, raised eyebrows indicating that the caretaker's revival would be short lived. Cybil concurred with a nod of the head. If the ambulance didn't arrive soon Trevor White may be back among the dead in a matter of minutes. Cooked flesh was exposed in his wounds. The remaining skin was alternately charred, peeling and raw. Bone protruded where the body had melted away.
An ambulance siren wailed in the distance. The old man would have a chance of survival.
She tried to imagine how Mr. White came to be so badly injured here. The burns didn't seem fresh, yet there were no reports of a fire and no evidence of one near the victim. No signs that he had been dragged here from another site. The only clue was the bunch of keys. They were blackened and had melted, some stuck to the body through heat. It was unlikely that he had been carrying the large set of keys in his free time, which could have meant he'd recently been at the school.
At the school, possibly with burns that were not inflicted today. Two attempted murders, potentially on the same site at around the same time…and Harry couldn't remember a thing. She didn't want to believe he was involved but…
White grabbed her collar and pulled her close. Ed was racing back from the clearing. The caretaker pressed his blackened remaining lip to her ear.
"My key." whispered Mr. White, barely audible, "That man took my key."