Against the Fire (37 page)

Gabe shook his head. “Not anymore.”

Dev pulled up the leg of his jeans and drew his .38 backup revolver out of his ankle holster. He handed it to Gabe, who checked the load and stuck it in the waistband of his pants.

Dev stepped far enough away from the door that he couldn’t be heard and punched in 9-1-1 on his cell phone, quietly relayed the situation, then pocketed the phone. Flipping back the tail of his light-colored sport coat, he pulled out the 9 mm Browning he carried in his shoulder holster.

A look passed between them.

“I.E.D.s?” Dev asked.

Gabe nodded, tried the doorknob, slowly turned it. It wasn’t locked and he didn’t feel any pressure, nothing that told him the door was rigged.

“I’m going round back,” Dev whispered. “Keep him busy till I can get in position to take the shot.”

Dev had been a marksman with the rangers. Gabe had never seen a better shooter.

Gabe eased open the door but didn’t step inside.

Gun clasped in both hands, Dev disappeared into the darkness.

The apartment was dimly lit. A light burned in the hall and another in a room at the opposite end. Using the flashlight to scan the floor, Gabe spotted a second wire just inside the doorway. Crouching down, he shined the flashlight beam on the explosive device, saw the way the pin was inserted and carefully cut the wire.

He took in his surroundings: a living room with a makeshift kitchen, bathroom down the hall leading to what he assumed was the bedroom. The couch was old, the cushions sagging, the dingy brown fabric torn. A pillow rested at one end and a wrinkled sheet draped over it, as if Mueller had been sleeping there. The place was cluttered with stacks of old newspapers and rags. Mueller’s collection of fuel to be used for future fires.

Gabe’s jaw clenched. He eased farther into the room, checking every step of the way for more explosive devices. But Mueller had the boy and handling the child took valuable time. Gabe heard muffled sounds coming from the bedroom and made his way toward his quarry.

Silently, he moved down the hall, checking for trip wires or pressure pads. Mueller had taken Gabe’s pistol. Probably had the guard’s, as well. But shooting Gabe wasn’t what the arsonist wanted.

Flames drove his demons. Fire was his god.

Gabe heard the muffled sounds again. The boy struggling, then fell silent. He inched farther along the passage until he could see into the bedroom.

The bed had been removed, replaced with a pair of sawhorses with a piece of plywood on top. Mueller’s worktable. Fertilizer, a coil of wire, a can of gasoline, one of motor oil. A length of steel pipe. Blasting caps. All it took to make a bomb. Or three.

Gabe’s eyes locked with Mueller’s. “Let the boy go,” he said with deadly calm.

Mueller held the child. He was no more than five years old with blond curly hair, his mouth duct-taped, wrists bound in front of him. Big brown terrified eyes stared at Gabe. Mueller’s arm wrapped around the little boy’s neck.

“It’s me you want, not the boy.”

Mueller flashed his odd, twisted smile. “That’s right. But one has to expect a certain amount of collateral damage.”

Gabe didn’t recognize the revolver Mueller pressed against the boy’s head, the guard’s mostly likely. Smaller, easier to handle than his Glock semiautomatic.

“Doesn’t have to be that way. Just let him go.”

“Actually, I’ve decided on another change of plans.”

For the first time, Gabe noticed the door behind Mueller. The man had planned an escape route. It wasn’t surprising. Mueller had been prepared from the start.

Gabe flicked a glance toward the window, saw faint movement outside. Not wanting to give away his brother’s position, he kept his eyes fixed on Mueller’s face—thin, dark eyebrows, a blade of a nose and those odd, twisted lips.

“You’re an amazingly flexible guy,” Gabe said.

“That’s right. And I’ve decided to take young Billy with me.” Mueller turned the knob behind him, cracked open the door. “His mother’s a whore. Stays out till all hours of the night. She ignores Billy most of the time.”

Gabe figured his brother was ready to take the shot, but with Mueller’s pistol against the little boy’s head, the timing had to be perfect.

“The woman is nothing like your mother, right Jacob? Not like Vera.”

His lips thinned. “I told you, Billy’s mother is a whore. My mother was a saint.” He shifted, his anger building. “And you killed her.”

“I didn’t kill her. I had nothing to do with her death. People get old, Jacob. Sooner or later, they die.”

“You’re a liar! You killed her with your greed and now I’m going to kill you!” Turning the pistol away from the boy, Mueller swung it toward Gabe.

Everything happened at once. Gabe dove for cover beneath the table at the same instant Mueller and Dev both fired. Glass shattered as Gabe rolled to his feet on the opposite side of the table, Dev’s revolver in hand, a hot sensation burning across his ribs.

Dev’s bullet creased Mueller’s skull, spinning him around, but the kill-shot missed deadly penetration by a millimeter, leaving Mueller alive but off balance. He lost his hold on the boy as he toppled to the floor and something clicked as he landed. Gabe recognized the sound of a pressure plate being activated, a bomb about to explode.

“No!” Mueller cried out, his black eyes wide with terror. “No!”

Gabe charged toward the boy, grabbed him and slammed through the back door. He dove for the ground, shielding the child with his body as the I.E.D. exploded and the bedroom turned into a ball of flame.

Mattie screamed as the explosion at the back of the duplex shook the ground. A ball of flame climbed above the roof of the apartment building, orange and red tendrils spiraling into the black night sky. Jumping out of Captain Daily’s Suburban, she started to run. A uniformed police officer caught her as she raced across the front lawn toward the rear of the building.

“Sorry, ma’am. You can’t go back there.”

“But Gabe’s in there!”

Daily reached her, turned her to face him. “You said you’d stay in the car if I let you come with me.”

When the dispatcher’s call had come and Daily had told her Gabe and Dev had found the arsonist, she had begged him to take her to the scene. When he refused, she told him she was going anyway—if she had to run every step of the way.

She shoved her soot-covered hair back from her face with a shaky hand. “Please…can you at least find out if he’s all right?”

Daily pointed toward the small, ragged group rounding the side of the apartment building. “Looks to me like he’s on his way over to tell you himself.”

Relief hit her so hard her legs wobbled. Mattie covered her mouth to hold back a sob. Gabe’s face was covered with soot, his dark hair hanging over his forehead, his shirt and navy blue dress pants torn and muddy. To her, he had never looked better.

Mattie ran toward him, her heart in her throat. Gabe walked next to Dev, who was also covered with dirt and soot and holding a little blond boy propped against his shoulder.

The EMTs ran up and took the boy, carried him over to the ambulance to check him for injuries.

Mattie kept running. “Gabe!” When she reached him, she hurled herself against his chest and heard his swift intake of breath.

She backed away. “Oh, my God, are you hurt? What happened? H-how bad is it?”

“Bullet just grazed him,” Dev said. “He’ll be all right.”

“Bullet?” Her voice went up on an edge of hysteria. “You’ve been shot?”

“Mueller wasn’t trying to kill me,” Gabe said. “He just wanted me to stay in the bedroom long enough for him to blow it up.”

“Oh, my God!”

Gabe eased her back into his arms. “You were incredible tonight. I was so proud of you. I love you, Mattie.”

“Oh, Gabe, I love you, too.” Tears burned as her arms went around his neck. “I was so frightened. I was afraid I’d never see you again.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m still here.” He caught her chin and kissed her. “I love you, honey. Will you marry me?”

The tears spilled onto her cheeks. She swallowed, her throat so tight it was hard to speak. “I’d be honored to marry you, Gabe.”

It was a huge risk. Marriage meant giving up her security, trusting her life to someone else, trusting Gabe not to hurt her. Marriage went against everything she had taught herself to believe, and yet there seemed no other possible answer.

“No hesitation?” he asked. “No doubts?”

She shook her head. “Not that I can think of at the moment.”

Gabe laughed. “I’m crazy about you, honey. I want to spend my life with you. I want to have kids with you.”

She smiled up at him through her tears. “That sounds perfect.”

Gabe leaned down and kissed her.

And passed out cold at her feet.

“Nothing to worry about,” Dev said as Mattie hurried to catch up with the EMTs rolling Gabe along on the stretcher. “Slight concussion. Loss of blood. He’ll be fine in a day or two.”

She looked over at the ex-ranger. To him this whole thing was no big deal.

“Thank God you showed up when you did,” she said. “How did you know where to find him?”

“Chaz came across a former Harwood tenant named Vera Mueller. She was supposed to be dead but the funny thing was, she was still cashing her social security checks. I followed the lead, found out Vera had a stroke right after she got the notice of eviction and was put in a rest home. According to the people at Shady Lane, Mrs. Mueller died a little over three months ago. A couple of months later, the fires started.”

“Her death must have been the trigger,” Mattie said.

“Apparently her son was always spouting off about how his mother would still be alive if it weren’t for the greedy bastards who condemned the building where the two of them lived.”

“So you tracked Mueller here?”

“The rest home gave me his address.”

Gabe stirred on the stretcher, reached out and took hold of Mattie’s hand. “You okay?”

She nodded, teared up. “You saved that little boy.”

He shrugged those powerful shoulders that seemed willing to take on the weight of the world. “I like kids.”

Her lips trembled. “I know you do. We’re going to have a houseful.”

“That’s going to take a lot of work. What do you say we get started as soon as I get home?”

Mattie brushed away the wetness on her cheeks. She tried for a playful, sexy smile but she was still worried about him and it didn’t work. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Dev rested a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “You’ll be happy to know Billy’s mom had just left their apartment. She was over at the neighbor’s, borrowing a cube of butter. Apparently, she works nights as a waitress. The neighbors told the police she’s a very good mom.”

Gabe seemed relieved. “Glad to hear it.” His beautiful blue eyes shifted to Mattie’s face. “Just so you know…we missed Enrique’s opening, but I’d already stopped by the gallery and picked out one of his paintings.”

She squeezed his hand, leaned down and softly kissed him. “You’re the most amazing man.”

There wasn’t time for his reply as the EMTs loaded him into the ambulance and Dev helped Mattie climb in beside him.

She had told him she would marry him. She should have been overwhelmed. Should have been scared to death.

Instead, an odd sort of calm had settled over her. They were alive. The threat was gone and they were going to build a future together.

For the first time in a long time, she felt as if her life was exactly as it should be.

Epilogue

One year later

The music thundered against the brick walls of Club Rio. It was Wednesday night and the place was packed. Up on stage, the long-haired singer, his belly gyrating more than his hips, seemed to think he was the king of rock and roll.

Mattie smiled. Tonight was her birthday. Gabe had done his best to make it special for her. They had been celebrating all evening, beginning with a poolside barbecue that had extended into the evening when everyone decided to finish their party at the club.

Besides her handsome husband—she loved thinking of him that way—Sam and Tracy were there, also happily married. They were moving into Sam’s newly remodeled house. Mattie was planning to give them a kitten as a housewarming gift.

Aaron Kreski was with them, there with Emily Bliss. After the fire and explosion that had put Gabe in the hospital, Aaron had gone to him with a personal apology for his frightening phone calls. Gabe had restrained himself and politely accepted.

Mattie’s mother and her husband, Jack Kendall, were in town for the birthday party, snuggled up at the table like a pair of lovebirds. Jack had found a job just weeks after his dealership had closed and he claimed he was working for the best employer he’d ever had.

“It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d had to take a job as a dog catcher,” Mattie’s mother had said. “I love him no matter how little money he makes.”

Which was kind of an epiphany to Mattie, who thought that perhaps she had been seeing things the wrong way ever since her father died.

“I don’t think there’s really such a thing as security,” she’d once told Gabe. “Things happen. Earthquakes. Fires that destroy our homes and everything we’ve worked for all our lives. Investments fail and we lose our savings. We just have to do the best we can.”

“The important thing is to live our lives to the fullest,” he said, “and be as happy as we possibly can.”

And they were. Incredibly so.

Just weeks after the fire, Gabe had come to her with another proposal, since she had already accepted his first.

“This is just an idea,” he’d said. “I’m not pressing you or anything. Your job is important to you. I know that, but…”

“But what?”

“But I was thinking maybe we could form our own company. You could do the design work. I could do the construction. We could work for ourselves but also for our clients. We could start with the warehouse. I’ve still got to get caught up on my other projects, so you’d have plenty of time to do the plans. Like I said, I’m not pressing you. Just think about it, okay?”

Mattie looked up at him. “Could we build our own apartment on the second floor?”