Free Nowhere to Hide by Debby Giusti

kept his mouth shut. He’d do a little investigating on his own.
    Matt shook his head as he hung up the phone.
    From what he’d seen, Lydia’s son came first in her life. If she had set the fire, surely she would have ensured Tyler was far from home. No, she wasn’t an arsonist.
    But she was hiding from something or someone.
    Â 
    â€œI love you, honey,” Lydia whispered to Tyler as she tucked him into bed that night. She left the door open so the light from the hallway shone into his room. Ever since the fire, he was afraid to sleep in the dark. Not that she blamed him.
    Lydia had a hard time sleeping, as well. Sheusually awoke with the memory of smoke filling her nostrils. Some nights, the fire seemed so real her eyes burned and she shook with fright.
    She told herself it was only a dream. But the nervous quiver in her stomach wouldn’t stop until she made her rounds. She’d peek in on Tyler, then check each room to ensure a fire wasn’t flaming out of control.
    Had she turned off the oven? Could a candle be burning? Perhaps the charcoal grill had overturned and hot briquettes were sparking into something dangerous.
    Every night her search found nothing amiss. No fire, no smoke, no reason to be alarmed. Relieved, she’d end up in Tyler’s room, looking down at her precious little boy.
    Why had they been saved seven months ago? Somehow she’d awakened with her only thought of getting Tyler to safety. She still didn’t know how she’d managed to carry him through the flames.
    She’d like to think God had interceded on their behalf. But after all that happened, how could she believe He had listened to her cries for help? More important people had His ear, not a woman who had made a mess of her marriage—and her life.
    Tears formed in Lydia’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a tissue and wiped it over her face. Would she ever be free of the terrifying memory of that night?
    Someone had entered their house and started the blaze. But who?
    Ruby hoped to find something when she went through the records at the club. A long shot. And Lydia wouldn’t hold her breath it would pay off. She needed to keep digging. Once she knew who was responsible for Sonny’s death, she’d know who was after her son.
    Ruby had mentioned the investigative reporter. Trish Delaney might provide some answers.
    Lydia dug through her purse for the phone number and dialed.
    â€œAtlanta Journal-Constitution. Delaney.” The woman answered with a raspy smoker’s voice piled on top of a country twang.
    â€œThis is…” Lydia hesitated. “This is Lydia Sloan. You said I could call anytime day or night.”
    â€œI remember. The Men’s Club.”
    â€œWhen you phoned before, I thought I could find what I needed on my own. Things have changed, and I’d like your help.”
    â€œI’ve done a little checking, Mrs. Sloan. Word was, your husband wanted out. Is that right?”
    Lydia sighed. “At first I didn’t know what he was involved in. He told me it was freelance work. He was a computer technician. Worked on Web sites. I never thought it was anything like this.”
    â€œHow’d you find out?”
    â€œHe had an office at home. I walked in and saw one of the pictures on his monitor.” Lydia paused. “Made me sick.”
    â€œOf course it did.”
    â€œI wanted to leave him that night, but we have a son. Sonny promised to end it.”
    â€œSo you stayed?” the reporter prompted.
    â€œI gave him ten days. He said he’d find a way out. First, he had to gather evidence. Said they’d kill him if he walked away without having something he could hold over their heads.”
    â€œWho are they, Mrs. Sloan?”
    â€œI…I don’t know.”
    â€œAnd what happened?”
    â€œHe died nine days later.”
    â€œAny idea what he