Walk Through the Fire (Finley Creek Book 10)

by Calle J. Brookes

  “I—” Annie started to say something, but shouts came from over the hill.

  Callum jogged up. “Chief, you’ll need to see this. The guy…you need to see this. You, too, Mayor Barratt. It…isn’t pretty.”

  Turner wasn’t going anywhere without Annie. His hand tightened around hers. She wasn’t saying much, just shaking in his grip. When they crested the small hill, Turner could just see the outline of one of the detectives over the man who had attacked him. He’d honestly thought the guy would have taken off by now. Or at least tried to get back to the car he’d hit them with.

  Dread filled him.

  That guy should have taken off by now.

  “What is it?” Elliot asked.

  “He’s dead. Head wound, most likely from that rock right there,” Callum said, bluntly, pointing a flashlight toward a handful of palm-sized limestone chunks. “And it’s Officer Collin Eugent. He was wearing a damned face mask, almost obscuring his face. The hit probably killed him instantly. Evers found a gun ten feet to the east. Not TSP issue. That answers a few questions I had about him.”

  “He was going to kill me,” Turner said, unsure what else he was supposed to say. He hadn’t meant to kill the man. He’d just wanted to ensure Annie was as safe as possible. “He started back toward Annie with the gun, and we were grappling. He had his gun, but I couldn’t find it in the mud after that. He was going to go back after Annie. It was an accident.”

  Turner quickly outlined what had happened since the moment he realized the car was coming up behind them.

  “It was self-defense then.” Evers said. It wasn’t a question. “He’s not in uniform. He’s wearing a ski mask and carrying a gun that isn’t standard issue. He would have recognized you, Mayor Barratt. He would have run your license plate number, as well. If it was legitimate business, he wouldn’t have pulled you from the car at gunpoint; nor forced you out here. And he would have rendered aid.”

  “And he’s had access to privileged information. We can’t overlook that,” Elliot stated bluntly. “He overheard quite a few of our conversations. I’ve used him for a runner for weeks. He could have leaked anything.”

  “He was going to go after Annie. He…I thought she was dead when we first crashed. I couldn’t let him come back for her.”

  “It was self-defense, and defense of another,” Elliot continued. “You did what you had to do. Don’t forget that tonight when the nightmares come. You kept yourself and Annie safe. And that is what matters.”

  112

  Carl saw the small crowd the instant they entered the hospital ER. Turner was rather easily recognizable, after all. His sweet little Annie was at his side, looking battered and bruised. There was a bloody bandage at her temple, and she sat perched on the stretcher with a paramedic at her side, almost embarrassedly.

  No doubt she felt just that, being in the ER where so many of her friends worked.

  Carl headed straight for Turner, who was covered in mud and completely shell-shocked. Carl gave him a closer once-over, making certain he wasn’t injured more than he appeared. “What happened?”

  “We were ambushed along the road,” Turner said quietly. “I’ll tell you more in private.”

  Carl just nodded. He would have hugged Turner, but he was covered in mud. “How badly is Annie hurt?”

  She wasn’t walking, but Turner was. Carl fought the worry. He’d started to feel a bit protective over the girl in the few days she’d been staying with Turner, just from the way the younger man had spoken about her. Turner had brought her to lunch with him one day, and he’d been charmed by how sweet yet unwavering the girl seemed.

  She was giving Turner the family the boy deserved.

  Carl had been hoping he’d get to meet the boys soon—and get to know Annie even more. Be on the periphery of that little family. Turner was the closest thing to a son he had now, besides Jason. Carl didn’t take that relationship lightly.

  Carl had been happy to entertain the idea of being an uncle to three little boys. He’d mentor them, just like he had Turner. If he lived long enough.

  Carl might not have much blood family still living—he had a sister he rarely saw, somewhere in the city—but he had learned years ago how to build a family out of those around him that he loved.

  “Banged up a bit. She thinks she had a concussion, and she wrenched her right leg when the impact happened. I want her checked out before she ever steps foot outside again.”

  “Of course.” Carl understood. Turner’s love for her was still in that new and terrifying phase. Something happening to her had just become Turner’s number one nightmare.

  Carl understood. If anything were to happen to Jennifer, he would be beside himself, too.

  He caught the eye of the police chief as ER staff surrounded the girl on the gurney. They would see to it that she was well taken care of, he had no doubt about that.

  “Who did this?” Carl asked.

  “Collin Eugent. An officer with the TSP,” Elliot told him. “He’s dead. But I doubt he was the mastermind behind this. Not him. There’s someone else out there, and I don’t think he’s finished yet. To go after the mayor was a damned bold move. I’ll give him that. He’ll regroup. And come for Turner again. It’s just a matter of time.”

  113

  Annie fought the embarrassment as Cherise hovered over her two minutes after Carl Buchanan had stopped Turner in the ER lobby.

  She hated being the center of attention. Someone in a lab coat and border-collie-covered glasses came toward her, and Annie just looked at her—a bit stupidly, no doubt. “Why are you here? Where are my boys?”

  Nikkie Jean was already practically climbing onto the stretcher. “With Caine, Pen, and Henry. I got called in. But Pen is awesome at handling all the kids. What happened to you now? You’re starting to need bubble-wrapped, kid.”

  “No joke. Car…accident, Nik. Possible concussion. And I wrenched my leg. Turner…he was hurt, too. Will you check him for me?”

  Nikkie Jean waved everyone away but Cherise, who was busy doing the prep work necessary. “He’s going to be in here with you in seconds, no doubt. Allen stopped him at the admittance desk. So start giving details.”

  “He killed a man tonight, Nik. I need to be with him.”

  Nikkie Jean actually paused and gawked at her. “You need to start at the beginning here, Ann. I’m confused.”

  Annie did. She wasn’t hurt that badly, and she made that known to Nikkie Jean. She wasn’t hurt—she was worried.

  “Someone ambushed us, pushed Turner’s car off the road. And he and Turner fought. The man died. I need to be with Turner right now.”

  “No kidding.” Nikkie Jean blinked at her again. “How can I help?”

  “Make it happen.”

  “CT scan, first. Then I’ll wrap you up in a nice pretty bow. But Ann? You make damned certain that Mega-Hot Mayor of yours keeps you safe. I have three little boys waiting for you to come get them tomorrow. Better yet, why don’t I keep them again tomorrow night? Give you a chance to rest? You’re going to be sore tomorrow. We both know that. Then you and he can figure this out without worrying about the boys in the middle of everything.”

  Annie nodded. She missed her boys, but until Elliot and Turner had all the details about what had happened tonight, it was probably safer with the boys somewhere else.

  She couldn’t leave Turner to face this alone.

  114

  There was a look of real resolve on Annie’s pretty face when Nikkie Jean pushed her out of the exam room an hour or so after the curtain had closed around her. Some of his tension lessened. Nikkie Jean didn’t look too concerned, and he had no doubt she’d keep a close eye on Annie, if something was truly wrong.

  “Hey, Mega-Hot Mayor Man, we’re going to go take a pretty picture of Annie’s brain to make certain everything is as it should be. Then you can have her back. Just…do a good job of keeping her safe from here on out. I’m keeping the boys an extra night, too. Give you two some tim
e together. Know what I mean?” Nikkie Jean shot him a pointed look. One that had Turner nodding.

  “Thanks again, Nik,” Annie said quietly. She looked at Turner. “You ok?”

  “I will be. Mostly just bruises.”

  “You’re going to end up with a black eye tomorrow.”

  “I know. Nothing more than what Trev gave me as kids. He was always a big asshole.”

  “I…they need to get a CT scan, then I should be good to go.”

  “I’ll be here. Waiting.”

  Turner watched Nikkie Jean push Annie down the hall, then turned to the men surrounding him. “I want everything we can find on Collin Eugent as fast as possible. I want the person who put him up to what he did tonight. I won’t have Annie dragged into the middle of this.”

  “I have Evers and Callum on this already, but it’s going to take time,” Elliot said.

  “I’m not sure that’s time we have,” Turner said slowly. “He said he was paying a debt. Someone out there has it in for me. And now I have Annie and three little boys to think about. I have to keep them safe. I have to.”

  115

  Jenny had to pay for what she’d done to him. Dennis Lee knew exactly how that was going to happen. He could never hurt her directly. Despite the betrayal she’d dealt him, he couldn’t lay a hand on her. Not her.

  He just loved her too much.

  But that boy of hers—he was fair game. All it would take was a phone call. A call directing the boy right where Dennis Lee wanted him.

  It took all of fifteen minutes to make certain it was arranged. Just as he’d like it. He felt a moment of remorse—Reggie had always been a good kid—but it had to be done.

  Jenny had to learn.

  No one betrayed Dennis Lee without being punished. No one.

  Dennis Lee walked right up to the rear of Carl Buchanan’s four-story home and let himself inside.

  He’d had a key to Carl’s place for years. Ironically, he’d copied it off Jenny’s ring when she’d been watering Carl’s plants.

  Platonic; he’d thought her relationship with Carl had been platonic.

  Hell, she’d probably waited for Carl in that bed of his, whenever that kid was gone.

  Jenny would never sleep with a man she wasn’t married to with a child in the house. He’d teased her about that when his grandsons and granddaughter had been visiting.

  He’d wanted her to come and meet them, get to know them. Jenny had refused. Had laughed at him.

  Him. Dennis Lee Arnold. He’d brushed off the laughter, knowing how the woman loved to tease.

  But he had never forgotten.

  He settled himself in Carl’s kitchen, helping himself to a sandwich that had already been wrapped in the refrigerator. No doubt it was for the boy.

  Dennis Lee had confirmed—Jason Buchanan was still in the hospital after his final surgery.

  He wouldn’t get in the way.

  Hell, maybe Dennis Lee would step up and offer the boy a home after this.

  He and Jenny could give the child a decent life. Jason could replace that nephew of hers, and that son of hers.

  He had a vague family connection; and Dennis Lee knew enough people to make it possible. It would give him a thrill. A real way to kick Carl, even posthumously.

  Yeah, that would be what he’d do. He’d mentored enough young men in his life.

  No one would blink if he took in the grandson of his once-stepbrother. It would be the family thing to do. The expected thing, actually.

  Dennis Lee sat there and planned.

  He was certainly a planner, after all. It had gotten him this far.

  116

  “You’ll get through this,” Elliot said. He and Turner had slipped into Rafe’s office for a bit of privacy, courtesy of Rafe’s wife, who had just clocked in. “You’ll have nightmares that you didn’t save her, but it’ll lessen with time.”

  “I don’t give a damned about Eugent.” And Turner didn’t. He was sorry the guy was dead, but the man had pointed a gun at Annie. That had ended it in Turner’s mind. There was an animalistic part of him that understood—no one threatened his woman. Barratts weren’t all that far off from their more barbaric ancestors, after all. “He would have killed me out there, and then gone after Annie. That was a given the moment he realized she was in the car with me. And he had just as much of a fair shot at winning as I did. And he had the gun. He’d have killed us both.”

  “Yes. He would have.”

  “We need to find the man behind him. Because Eugent wasn’t the one behind this sophisticated of a crime ring.”

  “No, he definitely wasn’t. It was one of the council members. We just need to find which one.”

  “It has to be Dennis Lee. He worked as a mentor on Boethe Street for years. And Eugent lived on Boethe Street. He was at the community center meeting, as one of the residents.” Turner had seen him there and spoken with him there. “He and Dennis Lee were speaking together as Annie and I were leaving.”

  “I see. We’ll have Jake or Callum search for official connections between the two, though we may never find one. Dennis Lee is a smart man. He could have hidden his tracks completely. I have Callum and Evers handling this directly.”

  “We have to be getting close. Eugent said it was a matter of paying debts.”

  “Whatever that means.”

  “I’m leaving it up to you to figure out. At this point, I’m tempted to grab Annie and the boys and head to Houghton’s place in Mexico until you figure this out.”

  “It’s not a bad idea.”

  “I can’t leave my city. Not long term. But I can take her down there for a day or so. And leave her there, where I know she and the kids will be safe.”

  “Make certain she’s not a target,” Elliot said from behind Rafe’s desk. “It’s tough. I hated sending Gabby to St. Louis last year, but she was kept safe there.”

  “I’ll consider it. I’m not sure yet that I could convince her to go.”

  “I’ll bet, if you worded it just right, you could make it happen.”

  Turner gave the man’s words a great deal of thought. He wanted her gone—just to keep her safe. It was time they talked about that.

  Turner’s phone rang and he looked down. Trevor.

  He answered quickly. “Trev? What’s going on?”

  “You need to get to your house, bro. Something’s going down now.”

  “What?”

  “It’s on fire, Turner. Your house is gone. Someone blew the place up. I’m sure as hell glad you were staying at the ranch. What the hell have you gotten into?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  117

  Annie knew the instant her eyes met Turner’s that something massive had just happened. “What is it?”

  He just shook his head. His hands went around her elbows, and he pulled her against his chest. He’d changed clothes. She had no clue where he’d gotten them, but she suspected they were Allen’s. The other man was at his side, a concerned look in his gray eyes. Turner’s face was ashen.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Besides the fact that someone tried to kill them tonight and he had killed a man anyway? She sensed it was something more than that.

  “Trev called. My house…it’s gone. Fire. I need to get out there. I’m going to ride with Elliot. But I need to make certain you are someplace safe.”

  Annie wrapped her arms even tighter around his waist. He had built that house. Was proud of it. To lose it tonight… It couldn’t be a coincidence. “What happened?”

  “I…don’t know. Not yet. I know you’re hurting, but I want you to go with Carl. He’s going to head back to his house. I’ll…Elliot and I will pick you up when I’m through with the fire chief. Carl’s house isn’t too far from mine. And I know you’ll be safe there.”

  She wanted to argue, to protest. To insist she was staying right by his side. But there was a look in his eyes she didn’t understand yet.

  He leaned down, until his lips c
ould just brush her ear. “Stay with Carl. I’ll explain more when I find out what’s going on. Just…stay safe, Annie. I can’t take it if I lose you, too. I—you should be safe with Carl.”

  “You won’t lose me. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” Annie looked up at him. Then right there in front of everyone, she stretched up and pressed her lips to his. When she pulled back, Annie said the words she would always mean. “I love you, Turner Avery Barratt. We’ll figure out what to do next. Together. Go—I’ll be waiting.”

  118

  She’d drifted off, poor kid. Carl shot a quick look at Annie as she slept pressed against the window of his car. How much she’d reminded him of his daughter all those years ago struck him.

  The pang of losing Kami would never lessen. Nor of losing Kyle, his son. Five years had passed between the loss of his daughter and that of his son. In the thirteen years since, Carl would like to think he had healed a bit. Made a difference in the world in their honor.

  He had devoted himself to Jason. And to Jennifer.

  A pang of longing for her went through him.

  It had been far too long since he’d seen her, though it had just been the day before. He needed the comfort of having her in his arms. How close Turner had come to losing this girl tonight hadn’t been lost on anyone.

  Turner was a lucky man to have the woman beside Carl. She understood him.

  She could have pressed to go with Turner tonight, but she’d trusted him to do what he needed to do. Carl had been wise to what she was thinking. What Turner had been thinking, too.

  He’d wanted to protect her from the ugliness of what was happening in their world now.

  Annie had known enough to let him.