The cop with the tablet touched the screen and Ava’s image from her federal ID popped up.

The solemn picture made Mason’s heart hurt. Ava’s dark-blue eyes looked directly at him.

A couple of the cops exchanged glances and low murmurs circulated.

“Yes, she’s the twin of the first woman,” Mason answered before any of them spoke. “She’s on the Bridge Killer Task Force. You’ve got four people to look for, but Jayne McLane was most recently in the area. She’s the one we’ll trip over first.”

“Okay,” said the sergeant. “Let’s—”

Thunder boomed and the sidewalk quivered. Earthquake?

As one, the group looked to the east, where a plume of smoke appeared. The gray mass rose over the rooftops, a dark, roiling cloud of ash that rapidly spread outward.

“Shit,” Ray mumbled. “It’s coming from a house.”

Everyone ran toward the smoke. Mason heard the sergeant order two men to stay in the area and continue the canvass. Mason’s eyes locked on the billowing smoke, dread stabbing in his brain.

Ava?

He ran harder, remembering another explosion, in a forest where a manhunt had ended when a killer blew up his cabin. The two victims inside had nearly died. Mason could still feel that fire’s heat on his face.

“Been in this sitch before,” Ray said as he ran beside Mason.

Mason nodded. Ray shared the same memory. They ran down the street, passing home after home. A fire engine siren sounded from far away. Panting, Mason turned up a cross street, following the group of police. Ahead, on his left, flames spilled out of the upper-level windows of an old home. Neighbors stood clustered in groups, watching the flames. A few were venturing close but quickly backing away.

“Is anyone inside?” several cops were shouting as the group arrived. Scanning the neighbors’ faces, Mason saw heads nodding, but confusion reigned. One younger woman was screaming, trying to run into the home, but was being held back by two men. Mason darted to their group.

“Who’s inside?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the woman’s shouts.

“Jeff!” she screeched, thrashing at her holders. Tears streamed down her thin face and her blowing hair stuck in her mouth. Mason turned to look at the fire. The smoke had become a thick black, hugging the outside of the house as it climbed up the siding and into the sky.

“Is that your son?” Mason asked. The woman shook her head and screamed Jeff’s name again. “Is there anyone else in the house?” he shouted. She nodded, hair flying around her face. “Any children?” She shook her head.

One of the men holding her arms said, “Jeff’s her boyfriend. They both live here. She came running out after the explosion, but has been trying to get back in ever since.”

“What floor is he on?” Mason asked. The amount of black smoke pouring from the upper windows made him cringe. A fire engine arrived and firefighters spread through the scene. No one had entered the house since Mason had arrived. Two of the cops had dashed up the porch to the front door and then quickly backed away, forced to safety by the heat.

The woman collapsed, the men’s grip keeping her from falling to the ground. They lowered her into a sitting position, but kept hold of her arms. “No one could live through that,” said the man on her left. She wailed at his words.

Three firefighters went through the front door and Mason said a silent prayer. He noticed two of the cops cross themselves as the firefighters vanished. Several of the firefighters went down the driveway and around to the back of the house.

Within the odor of the smoke, Mason smelled burning chemicals. “Was there a lab in there?” he shouted at the woman. She wouldn’t look at him. She hunched over and buried her face in her knees, her torso shaking. Mason looked at the two men and raised a brow. The men exchanged glances.

“Probably,” said one. “Sometimes the air smells weird over here. Sort of a sweet, sickening, chemical smell. And people are constantly in and out.”

“Shit.” Mason stood, looking for whoever was in charge of the firefighters to warn them. “Don’t let her go,” he ordered the two men, and he jogged toward the fire truck. He grabbed the arm of the closest one and flashed his badge. “You guys know there was probably a meth lab in there, right?”

The firefighter nodded. “We smelled it.”

Relieved, Mason looked for Ray and Zander. Both men were helping to move the crowds to the other side of the street. The crying woman Mason had spoken to was moved by the two men. Mason put some more space between himself and the house. Shouts went up from the crowd, and Mason glanced back toward the fire. Coming around the side of the house were two firefighters supporting a stumbling man between them. They helped him to the back of the EMT vehicle and sat him on the edge. He leaned forward, with his hands on his knees, and coughed until he gagged. An EMT slipped an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

The shrieking woman tore away from her two helpers and rushed the man, throwing her arms around his neck and smearing tears on his smoke-covered face. Mason moved closer.

“Anyone else in there?” Mason asked, showing his badge.

The man coughed and spit before answering, holding the oxygen mask away. “Stupid bitch. She’s still in there. I already told the other guys.”

“Who?” Mason asked sharply.

“Jayne. Derrick’s girlfriend. She was all freaked out and lit up a cigarette.” He spit again and triggered a thirty-second coughing fit. “We have a no-smoking rule for a reason. The place went up instantly.”