Reaching for his radio he shouted, “Shots fired! Take cover!”
Seconds later his radio crackled a response in his earbud. “I’ve alerted the sheriff,” his dispatcher said. “That’s not your only problem, Captain. Miz Alt has a prescription for two H tanks like you thought. One was refilled and returned a few days ago.”
“Copy.”
Adam shifted, raising himself slightly to give Sara relief. She immediately tried to wiggle away but he stopped her. “No. Stay put.”
“I thought we were making a run for it.”
“Not now that we know the shooter is still active. There’s no way to get to the truck without showing ourselves. We’ll have to keep our heads down until the cops catch him or scare him off.”
Adam knew they’d also need to wait until something happened inside the burning building. Either the tanks would vent or explode or act like horizontal rockets and take out walls. Maybe they’d do all of the above, depending on when the fire reached them and how they were supported inside Bessie’s apartment. It was too much to hope they’d fall gently and withstand the spreading flames.
“Initial explosive hazard confirmed,” Adam broadcast on an open channel. “All units hold your positions. Nobody goes near this structure again until I give the all clear.”
Sara nudged him. “I was right?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, you were. As soon as...”
A muted crash was followed milliseconds later by a whoosh and sounds of cracking and shattering. A flaming, rolling, expanding ball of gas filled the duplex to bursting and sent splintered windows and walls outward while the roof rose, fell and disappeared.
Adam ducked instinctively. So did Sara. He covered her as best he could and stayed hunched over her until smoldering pieces of the destroyed building stopped falling around them.
A cloud of acrid black and gray smoke boiled from the site of the explosion, filling the atmosphere and stealing breathable air. It rolled over the scene like a malevolent entity that was bent on hiding the carnage and claiming more victims.
Adam’s ears were ringing. “Don’t inhale deeply,” he cautioned Sara. “Fumes from burning synthetics can kill you.”
“Or you!” she replied, coughing and choking.
“I’ll be okay. There’s plenty of O2 on the engines. Wait a minute more, then keep low while you head for the squad. This smoke will hide you. Get in with Forrester. Stay there and keep your head down, just in case.”
“No. I can help out here. There may be injuries.”
“There will be for sure if you keep being so stubborn,” he countered. “I can only do so much to protect you.”
“I never asked you to.”
“You didn’t have to,” Adam said soberly. “It’s what I do.”
* * *
Everyone’s adrenaline had dissipated to the point of exhaustion by the time all the firefighters except the mop-up crew had returned to the station. Disappointingly, the duplex was on the ground and no sniper had been located.
Sara had given her statement about the deceased victim to police officers on scene, then ridden back with the rescue squad. The crews were done debriefing for the night, although their chief would later go over the primary attack on the fire and their coordinated efforts.
On-duty firefighters were cleaning and restocking the equipment and the other volunteers had left for home. Sara would have been among them if Adam hadn’t specifically asked her to stay so they could speak in private.
Weariness made her mood less than affable. “Well? What’s so important that we can’t let everybody in on it?”
“You must know that better than I do. Talk. I’m waiting,” he said flatly.
“For what? I’m as in the dark as you are about what happened tonight. Even if you’re right about those shots, I can’t lock myself in a closet and stay there to make it safe for the rest of the folks in Paradise.”
“There’s a lot more to consider than that and you know it,” Adam argued. “I just want you to take reasonable precautions. The police agree. Nobody accidentally shoots the same tree twice in a row—while you happen to be standing under it.”
Sara could picture Adam’s larger frame physically shielding hers. By the time the second bullet was fired he might have been in the way. Therefore, the assailant had little concern for which victim fell.
“How do you know they weren’t shooting at you?”
“Because I wasn’t there the first time.”
“You were the second time,” she argued.
He grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”
Judging by his expression and the abrupt retort, he meant it. Well, fine. Sara chewed on her lower lip. She was certainly going to remember. The way he had protected her from both the impending blast and whoever was apparently threatening her life had brought back good memories. Sweet memories she had done her best to banish when he’d chosen to ignore her tearful pleas and enlist in the marines rather than stay in Paradise.
So, what do I have to do to get him to see me as a responsible adult instead of a giggly teenage buddy? she wondered with a sigh. Sara stiffened her spine, raised her chin and made sure none of the on-duty firefighters were listening before she said, “Okay. Suppose somebody is mad enough at me to try to shoot me. Who? And why?”
“Don’t ask me. Ask yourself,” Adam snapped back. “Start with why anybody would start a fire in Vicki’s apartment.”
“I don’t have a clue. Really.”
“How about that guy you recognized? You met him in Texas?”
“Yes.” She swallowed hard, her mouth dry.
“What happened there?”
“Besides losing my best girlfriend in the whole world, you mean?” She noted his morphing expression, unsure whether it portrayed anger or loss or grief.
Adam set his jaw. “Yes.”
Sara decided he was struggling to control anger, which was actually a necessary step in the grieving process, so she tried not to hold it against him. At least he was staying civil toward her—for the present.
“Vicki thought she’d found a problem with the records kept by the local overseer for the mission organization,” Sara said. “That was why she insisted on going back to the office trailer despite the storm. The Brazos River and its tributaries were already flooding and more rain was falling, but she’d stashed the proof back at the office.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. She could have saved a copy on a thumb drive.”
“Not without electricity and a working scanner to copy the original invoices. She—we—needed those paper copies. They had signatures on them. There was no way to prove who was involved in the corruption without them. Anybody she accused could easily have denied it.”
“That’s what she gave her life for? A bunch of paperwork?” Running his fingers through his short, dark hair he began to pace. “And you didn’t stop her?”
Sara was trembling, inside and out. She clenched her fingers together. “I tried. She wouldn’t listen. I told her the flood water was getting too high, moving too fast, but she was determined.”
“You could have grabbed her, shaken some sense into her.”
“I did!” Gulping back sobs Sara relived that terrible evening in a flash. “I was holding on to her slicker. It was wet. My hand slipped.” She inhaled shakily. “And then she was gone.”
Watching Adam’s reaction, Sara realized he was accepting her story. When he said, “I’m sorry, but at least that explains a few things,” she arched an eyebrow and stared, waiting for him to go on.
“I got texts from Vicki the evening she disappeared.” He plopped down on the wide rear bumper of his engine, leaned his elbows on his knees and bowed his head.
“When?” Sara cautiously joined him.
“Around six. It was already dark here so the sun would have been setting wher
e you were, too. She told me you two were okay, then mentioned the mystery game we used to play when we were kids. The game where one of you pretended to be Holmes and the other one Watson.”
“That’s it? That’s all?”
“Pretty much,” Adam said with a sigh. “I texted back for details but she never replied.”
Mirroring his pose, Sara nevertheless kept her distance. The chrome platform of the bumper was cold, even through heavy fire-protective clothing. “That must have been right before she put on her rain gear and headed outside.” An icy shiver zinged up her spine. Had the influence of Vicki’s discovery followed her all the way home to Missouri?
“Maybe whoever was shooting at me thinks I can expose that crime. Vicki and I were always together. How would they know I can’t prove a thing?”
Turning slightly to face her, Adam scowled. “The only way they would was if Vicki had told them so and they’d believed her. And that’s only plausible if she didn’t drown before...”
Wide-eyed, Sara pivoted to stare back at him. “Before?”
His jaw muscles worked as if he could barely make himself speak. “Before they had a chance to kill her.”
“That is so not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Vicki drowned accidentally. The coroner signed off on her death without question.”
“Because he was sure or because he was buried in work? No pun intended.”
“You were at her funeral. You saw her, same as I did. There wasn’t a mark on her.” Sara’s voice broke and she had to pause to recover. “She did something foolish and the flood took her. She wasn’t the only victim but she was the only one from our missionary group.”
“Until today,” Adam reminded her.
“Yes. Until Rodrigo.” The memory of the failed rescue would probably stick in her memory the rest of her life. As a nurse she had seen death, of course, but always in a hospital setting where she and her coworkers could work hard to stave off the inevitable. Acting as a volunteer EMT was harder. In the field she was reduced to guessing the severity of injuries and praying she was making the right diagnoses.
Losing Vicki had shaken Sara’s faith to the point that she’d begun to question her effectiveness as a nurse and as a praying Christian. She’d sent up hours of fervent prayers for her cousin, yet Vicki was gone. If God had heard her and denied her request, as Scripture taught could happen, she wasn’t at all happy about it, let alone ready to accept it.
And then there was the matter of poor Rodrigo. Why had he been inside the burning apartment? Why had he followed her home to Paradise? Vicki had seemed romantically attracted to him during their brief trip but they hadn’t had time to develop a real relationship. Or had they?
Sara sighed quietly. Vicki was easy to like, easy to talk to. Men and women both warmed up to her immediately. Unlike me. She chanced a sidelong glance at Adam. He’d been the same way, always laughing and enjoying her cousin’s company a lot more than hers. The hardest test for Sara was when they had both bid him goodbye after his enlistment. Vicki had thrown her arms around his neck and even stolen a kiss, but when it had been Sara’s turn Adam had acted embarrassed and resisted. All in all, she had loved her cousin and envied her at the same time.
Admitting that character flaw only added to Sara’s sense of personal guilt. If Adam was right and her cousin had been purposely drowned, perhaps it was time to redeem herself by trying to uncover the truth.
But how? The only concrete tie to the missionary volunteers was Rodrigo. How was she ever going to learn how involved Vicki may have been with him? Her diary! Maybe she’d confided secrets in those pages. All Sara had to do was figure out a way to get a peek at the diary, assuming it had been sent home with her cousin’s other personal possessions instead of accidentally destroyed or kept by the Texas police. It would be wonderful to uncover a budding romance because it might indicate that Rigo’s visit to Paradise wasn’t made for nefarious reasons.
Remembering Vicki’s recent funeral and the way Helen, Vicki’s mother, had wept and wailed and spread accusations of blame, Sara realized she’d almost rather be shot at again than have to approach that grieving woman and ask for a peek at Vicki’s journal.
Another thought intruded, pulling her back to the elements that she was certain about. Her gaze met Adam’s. “Wait a second. Rodrigo was inside the burning apartment. We know he couldn’t have shot at us. So who did?”
Adam’s incredulous expression made her feel foolish. When he huffed, rolled his eyes and said, “Took you long enough,” she realized he had already asked himself the same question, probably hours ago.
As far as Sara was concerned, that proved how distracted she still was and how inept she’d been acting since returning to Paradise. For a person who prided herself on having it all together and functioning at the highest level, that realization was distressing. Not only was she more vulnerable while her brain took a vacation, so were the fire department volunteers she worked with. That failing was not acceptable to her and it certainly should not be acceptable to the fire chief.
What galled her most was that it was Adam Kane she cared most about impressing. Right now he was acting as if she should be able to focus, to think as clearly as she usually did.
Unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth. Her life was falling apart around her and she hadn’t a clue what to do about it.
THREE
Adam was determined to escort Sara home from the fire station that night whether she liked it or not. It wasn’t a difficult chore since she lived in one of the apartments located above the offices and shops that lined all four sides of the Paradise town square. An old-fashioned courthouse sat in the center while police and fire stations were on Church Street, a short block east off the main drag.
“I jogged over. I can walk home,” she insisted.
“Good for you. Humor me and get in.” He held the door to his ranch pickup truck open for her before circling and sliding behind the wheel.
“Aren’t you on duty tonight?”
“Yes. But I won’t be far away. I have everything I need with me in case we get another call.”
“I sure hope we don’t.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He turned the final corner and pulled to the curb in front of Sara’s apartment, above Cynthia Weatherly’s insurance agency office. He got out and circled to open the passenger door.
“I can open my own doors, Adam.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, clearly mocking.
“All right. Sorry. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
He trailed close behind, almost bumping into Sara when she stopped on the stairs and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Seeing you to your door.”
“Why?”
“Because the chief of police asked me to.” And because there is no way I’m going to let you walk into possible danger without me.
“That’s ridiculous. Besides, since when is Chief Magill giving orders to Chief Ellis’s firefighters?”
“Since one of his deputies has the flu and the others are still at the scene of the fire, looking for clues to who took those potshots at you.”
Lights around the courthouse cast a yellowish glow and sent shadows all the way across the street to engulf the exterior staircase of the brick-faced building. It was situations like this that he’d learned to avoid in a war zone. Where there was darkness, there could be a hidden enemy—and often was.
Adam grasped Sara’s upper arms through the sleeves of her light jacket. “Look, I don’t care whether you believe you’re in danger or not. Denial won’t change reality. I don’t know why you were a target tonight but I don’t doubt for a second that you were. Whether or not the shooter meant to hit you is the only thing in question. He did miss.”
She faced him, her chin jutting. “Are you this tou
chy because somebody tried to shoot you, too?”
The guttural noise Adam made as he threw both hands into the air was totally instinctive. The woman was impossible. And so special it made him crazy.
Refocusing, he managed to affect a calmer demeanor. “What is it with you, Sara? Why can’t you just accept a good deed without psychoanalyzing it or inventing excuses for why it isn’t genuine?”
He didn’t know what kind of response he’d expected but it sure wasn’t the one he got. Blinking back unshed tears, she stood tall. “Because I don’t deserve it, Adam. You were right. It’s my fault Vicki died. I should never have encouraged her to go on the mission trip with me in the first place, and I should have tied her to a tree that night if that was what it took to keep her safe.”
“You had no way of knowing what was going to happen.”
“No, but I did have strong misgivings. She was so excited and so proud to have uncovered what she thought was corruption I probably didn’t try hard enough to talk her out of wading into the water. I could have stopped her, somehow. I should have done more.” Sara paused to sniffle. “I should have gone with her, at the very least. Then maybe she’d still be alive.”
Adam placed his hands gently on her shoulders and shook his head. “No, Sara. You could both have died.”
“Maybe that would have been for the best.”
As she covered her eyes and began to sob he gave in to the urge to embrace her, to pull her close. His heart was pounding and his breath shuddered as she wept against his uniform shirt.
He wanted to kiss her, to hold her and promise to never let her go. To assure her that losing her would have made his heart ache until the end of time.
Instead, he understood her survivor’s guilt and simply said, “No. It wouldn’t.”
* * *
Sara didn’t know how long they stood there. Nor did she care. These were the tears she hadn’t yet been able to shed for her loss and having Adam there, supporting her, was an unbelievable relief and comfort. Finally, she eased away. “Sorry. I got your shirt all wet.”
Fatal Threat Page 2
