Line of Fire (13 page)

Fuck.

They arrived at the scene and Zack started readying the preconnected hoses while the others looked to Sean for their orders. Sean spoke briefly with the captain of Station Three, and walked back to join his team. Tommy frowned, thinking Sean’s coordination seemed a little off, but immediately dismissed the notion. Though the man had problems, he’d never come to work incapacitated.

“What’s the plan?” Six-Pack called above the crackling noise of the fire.

Sean stared at the building for perhaps two seconds too long before turning his bloodshot gaze to the rest of them. A tendril of dread curdled in Tommy’s gut. He sloughed it off.

The captain shook his head as though to clear his thoughts. “We’ll try and douse the fire from there and there,” he said, pointing to the sides of the building. “Skyler, Marshall, you two are going in to assist Jones and Valdez from Station Three in conducting a search for the night watchman. Let’s get moving.”

Tommy and Eve slipped on their masks, turned on their Air-Paks, grabbed a pair of axes, and started for the structure. Tommy glanced around the parking lot and in an instant, something struck him as wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint what at the moment, and then it got pushed to the back of his mind. They were in, and had work to do. If the man was still here, they had to find him, get him out safely.

The inside of the warehouse was thick with smoke, flames shooting to the ceiling in places, spreading rapidly to wooden pallets stacked in clusters throughout the vast space. A high row of windows near the roof let in sunlight and kept the place from being too dark, but they all knew that even in broad daylight, the deadly smoke could render the visibility pitch-black in minutes.

Across the warehouse, he could barely make out the figures of two other firefighters searching as well. One gestured to their side and both of the corners, gave a thumbs-up to indicate an all clear. Eve waved and they made their way to the back of the building, picking carefully through the burning piles.

Sean’s voice cut through the noise on their radio units. “North side is clear. Check the west side. There’s an office, a break room, and restrooms back there.”

Tommy keyed the microphone attached to the collar of his jacket. “We’re on it.”

In front of him, Eve paused in her trek and looked around, shaking her head. “I don’t like this,” she yelled over her shoulder.

He knew why, too.

“It’s burning too hot,” he called, hurrying to catch up. “I smell something, maybe gasoline.”

“Think we’ve got another arson?”

“Could be. Look how the fire is concentrated in spots. Almost too neat, instead of starting in one corner as an electrical short or something, and spreading outward.”

“You’re good, kid.” She turned briefly and from the way the corners of her eyes crinkled, he knew she was smiling.

“Not a kid.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The back of the warehouse, along with the office, was empty. They checked quickly, and he thanked God the rooms were small, with few hidden nooks and crannies. The smoke was becoming dense, and they both knew time was of the essence.

As they left the office and stepped into the hallway to try the break room next, a groan shook the structure.

“Shit!” Eve pressed the button on her radio. “Tanner! What’s the status?”

The answer was more than ten seconds in coming. “She’s holding. Find the guy yet?”

“No. I don’t think there’s anybody here,” she told him, tone rising. “The building is becoming too unstable.”

Again the response took too long. “Complete the check.” They were already on it. He and Eve exchanged a worried look, the tension thick as the smoke.

“Will do,” she snapped.

With angry strides, she led them to the break room. The silhouette of an old Coca-Cola machine hunkered on one wall, testament to the fact that they were in the right place. Thankfully, there was nothing else to be found.

The walls shuddered. Eve pressed the button one last time. “All clear in back.” Pause. “Sean? What’s going on with the other team? You want us out?”

Another shudder.

“Fuck this, we’re gone,” she barked. “Let’s move!”

Hurrying, Tommy followed her out into the hallway. As he did, it hit him what was wrong with the scene in the parking lot.

There were no civilian cars. No vehicles that didn’t belong to the fire department.

Which meant no night watchman. If there ever had been.

The third time the building shook, Howard whirled and got in Sean’s face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled. “Get them out!”

“What?” Sean blinked at him, pale, almost in a daze.

The duo from Station Three burst from the warehouse, into the clear.

“Pull them out!” one of the men bellowed. “She’s gonna go!”

Howard took charge, keying his mic. “Marshall, Skyler, vacate the premises! You copy?”

“Coming your way,” Eve said, voice crackling on the other end. “Almost there.”

He saw her emerging from the smoke, handing off her ax to Jules and pulling off her mask.

“Thank God.”

Of course, at that moment, the walls of Jericho came tumbling down, and pitched them headlong into hell.

Tommy lost Eve in the smoke. One moment she was there and the next? Gone.

He kept moving forward, toward where he thought the entrance should be. Searched for daylight. Vision was shadowy, but he could just make out the interior highlighted by the last of the flames that hadn’t yet been extinguished. Just a little farther—

A blow on the back of his head sent him to his hands and knees. Thankfully, his hat cushioned the impact, but it was now lying on the dirty floor in front of him. Stunned, he fought to regain his feet and pushed up. What the hell?

A second blow sent his senses reeling. His knees buckled and everything slowed as the floor rushed up to meet him. He lay prone, the ax next to his outstretched hand. The tank on his back was heavy, but oddly reassuring. He had air, he could make it out of here.

Disoriented, head spinning, he shoved upward once more.

And heard the building give a roar, like that of an enraged beast.

He knew, even before he got to his knees, before he looked up at the ceiling, that he was a dead man.

The walls gave up the ghost and with a mighty crack and a horrible rending noise, the roof plummeted. It came at him like a freight train and he had only a second to raise an arm in front of his face before he was slammed to the floor.

Debris rained down forever, piled on top of him.

Crushed. His body pinned, arms and legs immobile.

Pain. So much pain.

Can’t breathe.

A shaft of sunlight broke through from somewhere above him, but his vision blurred. Then the light faded, along with awareness. No more agony.

So silent here. Strange, he’d never thought death would be so peaceful. Shouldn’t this moment be more profound?

He was sad for his folks. God, I’m so sorry.

Both of their sons taken too soon. They didn’t deserve this.

Will Donny be waiting for me?

The idea brought him comfort as consciousness slipped away.

Shea. Baby, be happy.

Awareness shrank to a pinprick, and then the world was gone.

13

Howard started for Eve, and the building let out a shriek. A sound he knew well, one that sent a jolt of fear through his system.

“Run!” he yelled.

As he waved her on, she sprinted toward the quint and safety.

Just as the entire structure collapsed.

Events seemed to unfold in slow motion. Eve spun, half stumbling, as the whole thing caved inward. Her scream went through them like a blunt spear, agonized.

“Nooo! Tommy!”

She ran, but Howard caught her, dragged her backward. She fought him like a wildcat, no matter that she was no match for his size.

“Howard, let me go! Let go of me! He’s in there and . . . Oh, no, no.” She spun and launched herself at him blindly.

He pulled her against his chest, unable to take his eyes off the smoldering wreckage. Struggling to comprehend.

“I thought he was right behind me,” she sobbed.

When his mind caught up to what his eyes were seeing, reality hit him hard. Skyler was probably dead. Probably. The odds had been cheated before.

That slim hope was good enough.

He turned to his stricken team, who stared at the charred rubble in horror, and shouted loud enough to burst a blood vessel. “What the fuck are you all staring at, goddammit? Fucking find him!”

Shocked into action, they scrambled, yelling Tommy’s name. Eve started to turn and he grabbed her arm.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” Her chin quivered. “But he’s my partner and I left him behind. I have to find him.”

“You didn’t leave him; the building fell on him. A huge difference.” But he understood how she felt. He’d feel the same way under the circumstances.

She nodded, her expression miserable. “He should be near the front entrance, where we went in. We were almost outside.”

“Okay. Go, help me tell them where to start looking.”

At that moment, the kid’s PASS device—Personal Alert Safety System—attached to his coat began to emit a shrill alarm, much like that on a car when it’s been burglarized. That meant he’d been immobile for much too long, and Howard’s heart wrenched.

After Eve jogged over to join the rest of the firefighters and the captain from the other engine company, Howard stalked over to Sean. The older man was leaning with his back against the door of the quint, head bowed, face in his hands.

Without thinking, Howard seized the front of his best friend’s coat and shook him hard enough to rattle his teeth. “You’re done, do you hear me? Finished.”

Sean raised his face, expression tortured. “Howard—”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up. Because you were hungover and exhausted, because you hesitated and couldn’t make a decision, that young man might be dead,” he yelled, getting in Sean’s face. “The only reason I’m not beating you to death is it’s partly my fault. I stood by and I watched it happen, and I trusted you one too many times.”

“Howard, I saw them,” Sean whispered.

“Wh-what? Who?”

“My family. Blair, Bobby . . . and Mia. I couldn’t get to them.” His voice broke. “I couldn’t get to them.”

Sean slid down the engine, tears streaming down his face.

God in heaven. To his knowledge, Sean had never cried after their deaths. Never. And now he was having, what? A flashback?

So here it was, the final breakdown. Rock bottom. And Howard knew what to do, because he’d coached himself through the motions in preparation for this day.

He retrieved his cell phone from inside his coat and made a call to fire chief Bentley Mitchell, who was supposed to retire at the end of June, and had postponed the event for a few months. Thank God.

After two rings, the man picked up.

“Dad,” he said. “I need your help.”

After he’d explained the situation, his dad promised to come right away. Feeling no relief, Howard made one more call, this one to Shane Ford at work.

“Ford. What’s up?”

“Detective, this is Howard Paxton.”

“Hey, great to hear from you! What can I do for you today?”

“This isn’t a good call, Shane. You know your sister is dating one of our guys, right? Tommy Skyler?”

“Well, she doesn’t tell me a lot about her love life lately, but I’d kind of hoped things would work out.” Caution edged into his voice. “Why? What’s going on?”

Howard told him. And when he was finished, he said, “I think she’d better hear this from her brother, in person.”

“Ah, fuck,” he said quietly. “I’ll head over to the hospital now. Thanks for calling, Howard.”

“No problem. I didn’t want her hearing this from the news or some shit.”

“Call me as soon as they find him.”

“Will do.”

Hanging up, he replaced his phone and crouched in front of his best friend. He grabbed Sean’s shoulders and shook him. “Look at me. Dad is coming, and when he gets here, you’re going to go with him and you will do what he says, no questions asked. Okay?”

No response.

“We’re going to get you through this. Do you understand? Sean?”

The other man raised his head, green eyes ravaged with pain. “Nobody can help me now. It’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. Don’t you quit on me, you selfish bastard,” he said harshly. “Don’t you dare.”

“Howard . . .” He looked away, lost. In a daze.

“I’m here, buddy.”

“I want to die.”

And there it was. The crux of the matter, naked and exposed. At last.

“Tough shit. We’re not going to let you.” Torn between his responsibility to the search effort and his duty to a fallen friend, he pulled Sean close, the lump in his windpipe as big as an apple. “I will not let you.”

“I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Oh, sweet Jesus. Help me.

A throat cleared and he looked up to see Captain Reynolds standing there, sympathy etched on his craggy face. There wasn’t anyone in the fire department who didn’t know Sean’s story.

“I just wanted you to know I’ve got things in hand. They’re still looking, but so far . . .”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll be over there to help as soon as Chief Mitchell gets here.”

God, don’t let Tommy be dead, please. Sean would never survive, and neither would our team.

“No problem, son,” the captain said kindly.

The captain walked away, toward the building, and Howard comforted the man in his arms as best as he could. It wasn’t enough, but it was all he had to give.

All that was left to do was continue to be there for Sean.

And pray they all survived the fallout of this day.

“Did Hensley report in?”

Forrest’s hand tightened on the receiver. Rose had no idea Hensley hadn’t done the job, or that the firefighter’s demise wasn’t simply an accident, a casualty of their plans, so to speak. And there was no reason he needed to know about Forrest’s side deal, either.

Best that Rose believe Will was the one buried in the rubble along with Skyler. If they were lucky, he’d never learn differently. He’d just have to get Will out of town before Rose arrived.

“No. It’s been too long, so I’m assuming he perished in the collapse along with the firefighter.”

His stomach threatened to eject his breakfast, but he held on somehow. He didn’t like to lose, but murder was an appalling way to ensure a win. Almost like a cop-out. Better them than me.

“Too bad,” Rose said, not sounding sorry. “The authorities will find his body and assume he’s the missing night watchman?”

“At first. When they realize there was no guard, they’ll probably think whoever reported that was wrong and he was a derelict.”

“Fine. He can’t be tied to us anyway, nor can the money we paid him be traced back to us. We made certain of that.”

“True.”

They had a maze of safeguards in place to protect their scam. It would take a genius to unlock them. Though the Feds had some pretty smart people employed to ferret out information—no, he wouldn’t think of that.

“As soon as I have my money from this job, our association is at an end,” the man said. “When I arrive in town, should our paths cross, you don’t know me, and we’ve never spoken in our lives. And you won’t get in my way. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

Ever since the day Jesse Rose had arrived in Sugarland more than two years ago and showed up on Forrest’s doorstep sporting a cocky grin, his life had been hell. The bastard had proof in hand that Forrest was skimming money from the city coffers, and had proposed a deal—Forrest’s cooperation in a massive fraud scheme in exchange for Rose allowing him to live to enjoy the money. They’d both benefit from the relationship, he’d said.

And they had. Forrest had no idea what Rose did or intended to do with his portion of the money, nor did he care. Thank God Rose would soon be out of his life, and that was enough.

But Forrest’s relief was short-lived as the man continued.

“I expect that sum will include the two million you’ve skimmed off the top of our agreement, plus a twenty percent penalty. I believe that’s fair. Besides, you’d have to be breathing for it to do you any good, correct? Have a nice day.”

The asshole disconnected and Forrest replaced the handset, slumping in his office chair. “He knows.”

Desperation clawed at his belly, sudden and foul. Will had warned him not to cross this man, but he hadn’t listened. As with so many other details, he had to have his way.

He had to find a way to distract himself from his current predicament, or he’d go mad. What to do?

The news. Maybe he could learn something more about the warehouse collapse.

Nervous, Forrest flipped on the small television set in the corner of his office, the one he used as city manager to keep him abreast of current happenings in the area.

A feverish search was under way for the firefighter, and hopes were dimming in regard to finding him alive.

With any luck, he’d have a lady to console before the day was done.

“Shea, honey, your brother is here to see ya,” Dora said, catching Shea as she left a patient’s exam room.

Shea glanced up from the papers she was reading. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“No, but I don’t think he’s going to leave until he talks to you. Seems important.”

He wouldn’t, either. He’d make like a boulder in the waiting area until she made time for him, so she might as well see what he wanted and send him on his way.

“All right, thanks. I’ll get rid of him.”

“Oh, don’t hurry on my account.” Dora’s tone left no doubt she’d be more than happy to keep her brother occupied.

Shea smiled and shook her head, and started down the hallway for the waiting room. She found Shane near the double doors, pacing with a frown on his face rather than lounging in a chair thumbing through a magazine as he usually did.

“Hey, Bro,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek in greeting. “What’s up? I’m not sure I can get away for lunch today, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“No, that’s not why I’m here.” When he paused, something in his demeanor set off alarm bells. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk in private?”

“I—sure. This way.”

She led him through the double doors, down the hallway past the break room where he ate lunch with her now and then. When they came to a private family consultation room that wasn’t in use, she gestured him inside. The expression on his face was one she’d hoped never to see again—filled with anguish for what he had come to say.

“Shane? What is it? You’re scaring me,” she said, grabbing his arm.

Gently, he took both of her hands in his. “Sis, I got a call a short while ago from Howard Paxton, Tommy’s lieutenant. There was a fire at a warehouse, and it collapsed.”

Collapsed. She stared at him, processing the word. Then the meaning behind the word. Strange how the little things, like the lines around Shane’s mouth, the tick of the clock on the wall, the voices in the hallway, became sharper when bad news was imminent. She’d been here before, like this, with him.

Cold swept through her, but not enough to numb the fear.

“No,” she cried, shoving at his hands. But he refused to let go. Her voice rose in panic. “No, don’t you tell me anything bad has happened. I won’t accept that.”

His face twisted with remorse. “Sweetheart . . . he didn’t make it out. They’re searching, but—”

“Oh, my God.” The room spun and she felt him grab her around the waist, guide her to sit in a chair. “What do you mean they’re searching? How long ago was this?”

He sat down next to her, not relinquishing her hands. “Howard called about twenty minutes ago, and I rushed right over here. I got the impression that it just happened. The other firefighters got out safely before the building fell, but Tommy didn’t. They’re looking for him, and Howard promised to call as soon as they found him.”

Her lips trembled and she clung to her brother. “They will, and he’ll be fine.”

Shane didn’t say anything else for a long while.

Howard and Captain Reynolds kept the search organized, focused on the front of the building. The tall structure had been reduced to kindling no higher than his knees in many places, not an encouraging sight. Firefighters crawled all over the debris like ants, thankful the fire was out, though they kept a watchful eye for flare-ups.

They were working against the clock now, every single second one more off Tommy’s life. The kid had to be about out of air by now, and could easily suffocate. The wail of his PASS device frayed everyone’s nerves more with each passing minute, escalating their fears.

Howard was glad his dad had left with Sean a few minutes ago. His friend did not need to be around to witness whatever they found.

“Over here!” Jones, one of the Station Three guys, yelled. “Got him!”

Howard and the others converged on the spot, but had to slow down as they picked their way over the rubble. “Go easy,” Howard advised. “We don’t want anything to shift and hurt him worse.”

If he was still alive, but nobody voiced that.

“He’s about four feet down, under some boards and pieces of the tin roof,” Jones said, pointing. “I can’t see much except part of his coat, but he’s not moving.”

Julian started tossing shit aside. “Help me make this hole wider so one or two of us can get down there next to him, free him, and lift him out on the backboard.”