Fire in the Stars Read Online Free

get back to her.
    Five days to put all that behind him, to master his rage and despair, and to reach a state of calm forgiveness?
    Not a chance.
    Instinctively she snapped her fingers to call her dog to her, so that she could sink her fingers into her soft, warm fur. Reading her distress, Kaylee nuzzled her and licked her hand. Amanda took a deep breath, stepped back from her fear, and rallied her common sense.
    â€œWhat gear did he pack?”
    â€œCamping stuff — tent, sleeping bags, cooking gear, life jackets.”
    â€œBoat? Kayaks?”
    Sheri shook her head. “Those are still out back. He said you guys would rent what you need.”
    â€œNavigational gear? Sat phone, personal-locator beacons, GPS?”
    â€œYou know Phil. He likes the old-fashioned way.”
    â€œDidn’t he at least take his cellphone? I’ve been texting him and he’s not answering.”
    Sheri shrugged. “I haven’t seen it. He may have it on him, but it could be turned off. He does that when he doesn’t want to talk to people.”
    Amanda pulled out her own phone. “We should check in the house. If it’s turned on, we’ll hear it. We might find some clues too.” She punched in Phil’s number. She listened for ringing as she walked through the kitchen and dining area into the small den. The house was neat and full of local art from their travels, but no maps or guidebooks had been left on the tables to provide clues. When Phil’s cheerful voicemail message came on, she dialled again.
    â€œDo you mind if I check upstairs in your bedroom? It’s ringing, so it’s turned on. He may have left it there.”
    Sheri waved her hand in permission. “Since you called this morning, I’ve pretty much torn the place apart, but be my guest. Phil’s been staying in the spare room since he came back from Nigeria. He has trouble sleeping so he’s often up reading or watching TV. He says he feels better not disturbing me.”
    Amanda nodded. The depths of night were always the worst, when the wakeful mind filled the darkness with fiery images, screams, and the incessant yammer of self-doubt. She mounted the stairs, listening for a phone. Kaylee bounded ahead of her as Amanda had taught her, providing comforting reassurance that no danger lay ahead. Phil’s little room was a mess; bedding was flung back, drawers opened, and clothing strewn about. Papers were spilled all over the desk, and Phil’s laptop was open.
    Sheri came up behind her. “I tried it,” she said. “But he must have changed his password. It used to be ‘password.’”
    They both shared a spontaneous grin. How like impatient, cavalier Phil.
    â€œDo you mind if I take it?” Amanda asked. “I’ll try to figure it out later.”
    When Sheri shrugged her acceptance, Amanda closed the laptop and picked it up. She scanned the room, but there were no telltale maps or brochures, and the only books in the bookcase were dog-eared thrillers and university texts from his global development studies.
    No sound of a cellphone ringing, either.
    Tucking the laptop under her arm, she went back downstairs, with Sheri at her heels. “Let’s check the shed.”
    Like their house, their backyard was neatly kept. The grass was lush and mowed, the perennials trimmed and mulched. Gladioli were swollen with buds, and purple asters and nasturtiums spilled over their beds. Phil’s kayaks and small aluminum fishing boat were stacked on racks beside the shed.
    As unreliable as Phil was with people, he had always taken excellent care of his physical space, as if it at least was under his control. Amanda opened the shed door. Inside, garden tools and bicycles hung on walls, and supplies and equipment were stored on shelves. Hockey and ski equipment was suspended on the beams overhead for next winter. A mower and snow blower took up one corner, a stack of winter tires