Edge of the Heat 7 (4 page)

Craig slowed and Emma opened her door, popping her seatbelt and jumping out at a run. She reached the small knot of people and almost cried in relief at the sight of Vivian and Hawk looking sad and horrified, but very much alive.

Emma slung her arms around Vivian, who was wearing only a man's shirt and a sheet around her waist. "What happened?" she asked, her eyes on the blazing house she'd been in so many times.

Hawk stepped in front of her, dressed only in dark silk boxers. "There was a bomb under our bed. I found it just before it exploded. I dropped it and we ran."

Craig walked up, already holding up his spare clothes and boots for Hawk. "A bomb? What in the hell?"

Hawk turned a knowing eye on him and nodded. "Someone's not happy about something I'm doing."

Emma stared at the two men, unable to believe Hawk and Vivian had almost been murdered in their bed ... because of Hawk's job? The same job her own husband did? She hugged her sister harder as Vivian began to cry.

Emma swayed on her feet, blinking up at the late-morning sun. She'd been given the day off at work, since she'd been at the scene of the explosion all night, but she wouldn't leave this scene until she heard what the fire inspector had to say. She had to
know
.

Hawk, Vivian, and Craig had also chosen to stay, the three of them huddled around the back of Craig's truck, waiting for news. They'd called JT and Dani at the hotel they were staying in while they were in town, but those two lovebirds hadn't picked up their phones yet or responded to any messages. Emma knew they tended to turn off their phones when they were on vacation. They'd check in when they got up.

Jerry had been by, as soon as he got the message Emma left for him at dispatch when he arrived at work, but he couldn't stay. He was working on the ambulance all day. He'd been offered a promotion similar to Emma's but had declined it, saying he wanted to work on the ambulance as long as his bad leg let him. Emma thought that was probably an excuse. His leg seemed fine these days, almost never giving him problems. He just liked the ambulance. And he didn't need the money. Emma liked the ambulance too, but she couldn't turn down the hefty raise that came with the Lieutenant's position.

Jerry had said Sara wasn't feeling good, and that's why she hadn't come by, but he offered their spare room to Hawk and Vivian. His sister had moved in with her boyfriend and it was just empty. Emma had cut in, thanking Jerry but saying Vivian and Hawk could stay with her and Craig for as long as they wanted. They had a spare room too.

Emma watched the fire inspector move about the smoking pile of melted concrete and burning wood that had all collapsed into the centuries-old cellar and wondered at how hard and fast the fire had spread. The other items Hawk had seen under the bed had to be an accelerant of some kind. That was the only thing that could possibly explain how little of the structure was left. Well, that and the fact that only one fire truck had ever arrived to fight the fire. Last night had been so busy it was all that could be spared.

The fire inspector in the hole pulled out his radio and spoke into it. Emma's hand went to her waist, turning up her volume automatically to hear what he said.

He was asking for police. Finally. The police had already come to take Hawk and Vivian's statement and then left again when the fire inspector said he wouldn't be able to give a preliminary report for hours.

The man climbed up the ladder out of the hole in the ground and approached Emma. He nodded to her and Emma tried to smile. His name was York, Carl York, and he was an older man, rather new to the department. A lateral transfer from Los Angeles who she didn't know well.

"Well I've seen plenty of these in my day," he said, his voice pitched low, his eyes crawling over the trio behind Craig's truck. "Never in such an upscale neighborhood though."

Emma frowned, not sure what he meant by that.

He leaned in close to Emma. "There was no bomb, though, I guarantee you that. Are you sure none of the homeowners had burns on them? Their faces or hands?"

Confusion and apprehension rushed through Emma at his words. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She wasn't going to like whatever he was about to say, she could tell that much. But he didn't know of her connection to
the homeowners
, and she didn't want to react in a way that would alienate him if she could help it.

"No, no burns. I examined them myself. What do you mean no bomb?"

He nodded as if he expected that. Emma felt her eyes drawn to his earlobes, where the deep crease told her he was well on his way to a heart attack. She tried to pull her paramedic's mind away from that inane fact and focus on what he was telling her. "There must have been someone here who fled the scene before you showed up. You should check the hospital for burn victims over the next few days."

"What?" Emma forced out. "What are you talking about?"

York motioned back over his shoulder at what used to be Hawk and Vivian's house. "Hash lab. It exploded. Someone was extracting a large amount of oil from marijuana using butane. It caught fire and set off the other containers down there. That blaze burned through the ceiling and caught the rest of the house on fire, essentially allowing it to collapse in on itself. I've marked all the pieces of exploded and burnt containers and the marijuana that the police will want to take into evidence."

Emma's mouth fell open. She looked helplessly back at Vivian and Hawk and Craig talking animatedly across the street, not even sure what to do

"You, you..." she sputtered. "You think there was a hash lab in this house?"

"I don't think, I know," York said, his eyes narrowing. "I have forty-two years of experience investigating fires. Everything I see down there indicates a hash lab."

Emma looked at the smoking ruins of a house one more time, then looked back at York, her mind a swirling mess. "What about the bomb? You said you didn't see a bomb but couldn't it have burned up?"

York scoffed and looked at her with growing distrust. "Not completely. There would be some sign. The housing, the wires, something."

Emma shook her head, her voice raising. "The homeowner said it was in a shoebox. No housing." She pointed back at the hole in the ground, her eyes focused on the black and smoking pile of rubble in the middle of it. "I saw you down there, you didn't go through that pile. There could be anything in there."

York looked at her in a horrible appraising way. He pulled back and started to speak, then cut himself off, then leaned forward, his finger in Emma's face. "Look,
Lieutenant
," he said, emphasizing Lieutenant like it was a dirty word. "How many years investigating fires do you have? None? That's what I thought. You don't know the first thing about it. Once you've investigated even one, you come back and talk to me. Until then—"

York cut off and looked across the street where Hawk was heading their way. Emma's heart sunk. She wasn't going to get what she needed by pissing this guy off. But she didn't know if there was a way to fix this situation.

"Great," York said, his voice sharp and clipped, his eyes following Hawk as he came closer. "Just what I want to deal with."

Emma thought quickly, then seized her chance. She leaned in close to York, conspiratorially close, and lowered her voice. "I've already dealt with him. He's a real bear. You get out of here, go back to your office. I'll deal with the homeowner and send the police to see you there." She had no plans of sending the police anywhere until she figured out what exactly was going on here, but she wanted him calm and away from the scene.

York nodded and Emma saw gratitude flash in his eyes. She bit back a grimace, feeling slimy, but knowing she had to do this, for Hawk and Vivian.

Hawk stepped up on the curb and Emma turned her back to him, then made a shooing gesture towards York. He turned and headed towards his car, moving quickly.

Emma turned around quickly and intercepted Hawk. "We need to talk," she said motioning for him to follow her back to Craig's truck. When she had the three of them gathered close to her, she waited until she saw York's truck drive away, and then spilled, keeping her eyes trained on Hawk. She didn't want to see Vivian's reaction.

"The fire inspector thinks you guys were running a hash lab in the cellar."

"What?" Craig roared, taking a step backwards to watch the fire inspector's car drive away.

From the corner of her eye, Emma could see Vivian's mouth drop open, but Hawk only stared, his eyes soft and thoughtful.

"What in the hell makes him think that?" Craig asked, his voice booming.

Emma shushed him. "He says there's butane containers and marijuana down there."

Hawk's eyes narrowed. "Actual marijuana? That just happened to survive that fire?"

Emma nodded. "That's what he said."

Hawk's eyes unfocused and Emma could almost see his brain working behind them. Even Craig held his tongue in respect for Hawk's processes. They'd all seen it a dozen times before. It was how he worked.

Vivian's hands fluttered to her face and she began to weep softly. Without looking around, Hawk pulled her into his chest and patted her back, his eyes still far off. Finally he spoke. "It makes sense, in a sick way."

"What does?" Emma asked.

"When does a criminal have the least chance of getting caught?" Hawk countered, then answered his own question. "When the cops don't know he exists, right? Whoever did this is smart. Smart enough to throw the investigation off from the very beginning. If his plan had succeeded, we'd be dead, unable to defend ourselves. Hell, if he was lucky, the cops and the fire inspector might have written this off as the two of us getting what we deserved. Case closed. Nothing to see here."

He turned to Craig. "Except, whoever did it had to know that you wouldn't let it rest. You, my best friend and an FBI agent."

"And brother-in-law," Craig muttered.

"And brother-in-law," Hawk parroted, his voice soft, still thoughtful.

Craig's eyes narrowed in some sort of understanding that was just outside of Emma's reach.

"We better go search my place," Craig said.

Hawk nodded and Craig started towards his driver's door. "Get in, we'll go straight over."

"Wait a minute! What just happened? What are you two talking about?" Emma cried.

Craig turned back to her. "There's a good chance that whoever did this might try to do something like it to me too. It wouldn't make sense otherwise. They'd have to know that I would know Hawk wasn't making hash. And they'd have to know that I wouldn't let it rest."

Emma felt her exhaustion and the events of the last thirty hours closing in on her. Her mind tried to crumple. She looked at her husband squarely. "Are you telling me our house is in danger? We are in danger?"

Craig took her hand and spoke to her softly. "I don't know, babe. But we have to assume we are."

Emma stared into his eyes and couldn't process it. She needed sleep, and soon. But only if she were safe—if her house was safe. She looked back at the fire truck still in front of the house. "Let me talk to the fire equipment operator," she said in a small voice, then turned back to Hawk. "What should I have him tell the police? The inspector wants them to take the butane and marijuana into evidence."

Hawk shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it. Have him do what he's supposed to do and we'll figure out a damage control plan later."

Emma nodded as he held her gaze for just a moment too long. His quiet manner didn't fool her. He was terrified.

So was she.

When Emma returned to the truck, Hawk and Craig were already in the front seat, talking animatedly. She climbed into the back seat next to her sister. Vivian sat limp and quiet in the corner, her gaze lost. One of the neighbors had found her a pair of sweat pants to wear. They looked completely out of place on her slim frame, tucked just under her growing belly.

Emma took Vivian's flaccid hand and listened to Craig and Hawk talk as Craig pulled away from the curb.

"I can't think of anyone who has a motive to do something like this so late in the game. There's not one person involved in the Oberlin investigation who hasn't already been charged with something. It's almost over! All that's left is the senate committee hearing," Craig said, his voice heated.

Hawk didn't speak for a moment but he nodded slowly. "It's not the Oberlin case then. It's the corruption. Maybe a cop or firefighter. Or that mercenary case we helped the local office with last month."

Craig shook his head. "We handed all of the corruption over to Roberts. We haven't worked on that in over a year. And the mercenary? He's dead. His team is all in prison."

"The mercenary case does seem like the least likely. But the corruption case, maybe our guy doesn't know we're off of it."

Craig snorted. "I thought you said he was smart."

Hawk held up a hand. "Maybe it has nothing to do with my job. Maybe this is a personal thing. Someone wanted me dead."

"Who, why? Outside of the job, no one has a reason to hate you."

Hawk nodded again but his eyes were far off.

Emma settled back against the seat and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, Craig was parking in front of their house.

Hawk turned around to look at her and Vivian. "You two stay here."

Emma felt irritation run through her. "Excuse me?" she said, the annoyance showing clearly on her face and in her voice. Her fuse was non-existent. "I'm going too."

Hawk pressed his lips together. "No you're not. Craig and I will do a sweep of the house and then—"

"Are you out of your mind?" Emma interrupted, hating herself for talking to Hawk like that, but too tired to care at this point. Besides, if there was anything she should be a part of, it was this.

"Look, Emma. It's not a man-woman thing. We're FBI agents," he said, motioning to himself and Craig.

Emma almost laughed. "Oh, and you both are experts in explosives. That must be true if you think you know more about incendiary devices than say, I don't know, a Lieutenant in the
fire
department?" Emma tried to keep her voice calm. Hawk had no right to tell her she wasn't coming in her own house, but she loved him, and he'd just been through something awful. "Look, I know you are just taking care of business, but this is my home. And I know I've had more training along these lines than you have. I'm coming."