"Roll man, roll!"

Greg didn't hear his own scream as flames trailed him. Foam spewed from the hose a pair of firefighters were holding as they braced against the pressure.

A heavy blanket smothered him and the putrid stench of burning flesh disappeared to his relief. Searing pain on his right arm was the worst of it, and he struggled to free himself.

"Let him up."

Same voice that told him to roll. Must be a firefighter.

The fire blanket eased off him, and his stomach roiled. He couldn't help seeing Deloras' charred body. A fireman in breathing gear knelt beside her, clearing the foam away. Touching her neck, he shook his head.

Pulling his mask up, he asked, "Is she the one who's been setting all the fires for the last few months?"

Greg shook his head. "Some of them, for sure. But from what I learned, there's another arsonist out there with a different method."

"One down, and one to go, Captain." The voice came from behind him.

"Cover her will you, Bill? It's unfortunate when they go this way. Poor woman must have been deranged."

Greg shook the Captain's arm off.

"She wasn't alone."

He took off up the stairs to Mel's place noting the bullet hole in her door. Glancing up, from the pile of glass shards in front of Elena's door he saw the shattered security light.

The cop from the car which followed him was arguing with his brother, waving a set of handcuffs. A muffled gunshot greeted him at the top, but two cops shoved past him taking the classic one low one high entry protocol. Before he could get through between them, they started to move.

I hope you're not too late.

The crash he heard almost stopped his heart.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Mel looked up at Smoky where he was now sitting on top of the cabinets where she put her baking pans and the roaster, she planned to use to make a Christmas turkey. Learning to cook with Greg was so much fun.

Taking a steadying breath, she let it out silently. The tightness eased and she started to think about what to do about Burt Grumman. Get him talking? It might be all she could do until help got here.

Oh my God! Ralph. He's going to walk into this. I can't even warn him. My phone's in the bedroom. Should have kept it in my pocket.

Grumman came out of her bedroom and kicked her bathroom door. Splintering wood gave in with a bang. Melinda winced. Her insurance premiums were going to go up. All this damage all over again. He spun around, his dark blue uniform black in the dim light.

She lost sight of him for a few seconds, and his voice came from behind her.

"Stand up, bitch."

Moving with deliberate slow motions, she straightened up to her full height, turning to face him. He was waving his pistol around like a conductor's baton.

"Who's Johnny?"

"My love, and Deloras' husband. We took care of her until you broke her."

"Did my father know about you?"

"Are you crazy? Of course not. What he should have known was to leave you the hell with your mother and go when the call went out. Stupid ass. He was the last one there, and no one had a clue without him. Fucking should never have given him the captain's spot."

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "Not much bigger now are you? You're going to light that candle again. And your going to put it on that shelf. It's going to start the fire that's going to kill you. Just like the one that put you away and got rid of him. You should have been dead too."

She shook her head and he pointed the gun at the floor pulling the trigger. The gunshot was still startling, but not deafening. That must be a silencer. Like she saw in one of the video games she played with Ralph at his place. Mel didn't let it make her jump. She had to stay calm.

"Daddy didn't kill your Johnny, the fire did."

"You did. Light the candle." Another bullet went into the varnished planking under her feet.

She fumbled with lighter she left beside it. Best to give in to him. She needed him closer to her if she was going to do anything to get herself out of this.

I understand being in love now, but taking grief to this level? Where does Deloras fit into this mess?

"I don't understand you and Johnny were lovers, right?"

His face softened for a moment as he said, "He was my soulmate, and Deloras completed him as much as I did. But after he was murdered, we bonded. And I fed her need for revenge."

He giggled. "She was so malleable. It was so easy. She wanted revenge. Even if it was her own twin."

Mel shuddered, her hand shaking as she tried to keep the lighter burning.

"Fucking light the candle. Take it over to the shelf. It should set the one over it on fire inside of a few minutes."

He reached behind him and pulled his handcuffs off his belt. Mel placed the fat stubby candle in the center of the shelf under the break between the two above it.

"Right beside the books. Maybe I'll just knock it over before I leave. Careless of you, isn't it?"

"Then come over here and do it yourself." Mel moved away from the wall and into one of the few open spots in her apartment. This was her yoga space. And Grumman was reacting exactly as she hoped.

Fist raised, swinging the handcuffs, he sprang across the distance between them, and Mel ducked under his longer arms. Close in was where she was most effective. The sirens stopped and she knew help was coming, but this was for her. Rage fueled her and she remembered Master Michaels advice about making any blow effective.

"Put your fist or foot through whatever you connect with. Momentum will be your friend."

She led with her right knee bringing it up into his crotch with every bit of pent up anger in her, and when his breath left his lungs in an explosive burst, she followed with a fist to the softness under his chin. It was coming down to meet her anyway.

I'm sorry Master. I know I am not to allow emotions to lead. But this time, I will forgive myself.

The crash when Grumman fell, shook her floor. The two stools toppled, and she turned to hit the light switch. Someone was coming through her door.