“911 operator. Please state the nature of your emergency.”
“Cheryl, its A.J. Dodge. I’ve got a potential arson about to be committed at the Woodward Place on the Seven North. I need you to send someone now,” he whispered.
He disconnected before Cheryl could ask any questions and dialed Miguel, told him to get out of the tractor and move toward the house. Dodge placed the phone in his pocket and considered his options.
The sheriff’s office was ten minutes away and it would take at least that long for the fire trucks to arrive. In ten minutes the whole barn could be nothing but ashes, not to mention the tens of thousands of dollars worth of equipment housed inside. He watched the man tuck a large flashlight into the waist of his pants and carry one of the large gas cans around the building. Dodge recognized the butt of a gun poking out of the man’s belt.
Damn it. Dodge moved around the tiller, crept along until he could peer into the trunk of the car. There was a large rifle case, unopened and pushed into the far back. He saw two more gas cans, along with some lighter fluid and a box of new work rags. No doubt about it, the guy planned to torch the barn. If Dodge hadn’t been so averse to using the gun in his hands, he would have shot him first and asked questions later. But he certainly didn’t want killing a man on his conscience, so he needed another plan.
He ran back toward the tiller near a pile of old debris he'd started cleaning off the property. He found a scrap piece of metal sturdy and sharp enough to pierce through rubber. He slashed four quick gashes in the tires of the car, made sure he heard the whiz of air leaking out, and positioned himself along the side of the barn where he could inch toward the door and peer inside. Except for the beam from the flashlight, the barn was black as night. The man made quick use of the first can of gas. Dodge watched as he flipped it to the ground before turning to retrieve the other can he’d left by the car. Dodge lunged behind the open barn door and waited until the man was around the back of the barn before he let himself breathe.
Now what? The guy would catch him when he came back with the other can. He could escape inside the barn, but that didn't seem like the smartest idea. He needed to catch the guy outside before he set the fire which meant now, right now. Dodge took a deep breath, cocked his gun and inched along the wall like a crime show actor toward the back of the barn. A peek around the corner confirmed the man had noticed the tires as he'd crouched down by the driver’s side wheel.
“Put your hands up where I can see them,” Dodge said with his gun outstretched. “Nice and slow.”
He seemed startled, but not surprised. He’d seen the tires and knew someone had sabotaged the car. He rose slowly but didn’t raise his hands, undaunted by Dodge and his Colt revolver.
“I said put your hands up where I can see them. You’re trespassing. I have no problem shooting first and asking questions later.”
The man considered Dodge for a moment before raising his arms in the air. “You’re making a big mistake here, pal.”
“The mistake was yours, pal, when you came on the property. Now move to the front of the car.” Dodge shifted his weight from foot to foot, eagerly listening for an approaching siren. Dodge never shied away from a fight, but a shoot-out with a professional arsonist didn’t sound all that appealing. He felt the squeeze of a tight fist of fear when the man stood his ground and ignored his request. “I said move,” he repeated firmly.
“One shot from that gun and this whole place goes up in flames.”
Dodge stepped closer, positioned the gun to chest height. “Then you’d better listen.”
Dodge heard footsteps behind him. He turned his head to see who'd approached and in the instant he saw Miguel knew he’d made a fatal mistake. The arsonist whipped the gun from his belt and aimed at Dodge. With no time to think and barely time to aim, Dodge let loose a quick shot and caught the stranger in the shoulder, flinging him back onto the car. Before Dodge could take a step to follow the stranger around the back of the car, a blast of sound and light pierced the night sky. Dodge went flying back, propelled by the force of the exploding car.
###
Sarah sat up with a start, clutched the phone and fingered the handle of the baseball bat laying across her lap. She’d fallen asleep on the couch and was momentarily disoriented. When reality slapped her in the face, she lunged for the kitchen window, pulled back the blinds and stared in shock at the fireball burning near the barn.
“Oh, my God.” She quickly dialed Dodge's cell but only heard his message. He’d told her to stay put no matter what happened until he called but… He wasn’t answering his phone and there’d been an explosion. She couldn’t stay holed up in the cabin when he could be hurt or worse. She grabbed the keys to her truck and took off down the stairs, determined to find Dodge.
Sarah arrived at the scene at the same time the sheriff’s car came bounding through the front gate. Sirens from the approaching fire engines rang out in the distance. She bolted from the truck and screamed for Dodge, her eyes stinging from the thick smoke.
“Mrs. Woodward? Are you ok?” The sheriff pulled her away from the flames.
“No, I’m fine, but Dodge… Dodge!” She searched fruitlessly through the billowing smoke.
“Was he in the car?” The sheriff shouted over the sirens of the fire truck coming through the gate.
“What?” Sarah didn’t know how to respond, what to say. “Dodge!” She couldn't pull free from the sheriff’s tight grip.
“You need to move away from here, Mrs. Woodward, please.” He dragged her back toward his police cruiser.
“No, I need to--” She spotted two bodies on the ground, seared metal still smoking near their ankles. She tore free and ran, skidding to a stop near where Dodge lay unconscious with blood leaking from a gash on his temple. “Help! Somebody help him, please!”
She gingerly ran her hands over his body. There were cuts on his arms and a large gouge in his jeans with more blood, but she didn’t see burns. She placed her trembling fingers to his neck, searched frantically for a pulse. She felt the faint fluttering of a heartbeat, saw the rise and fall of his chest. “Dodge.” Fear for him leaked out of every orifice of her body. “Wake up, baby, please wake up.”
Two men approached with medical equipment. She scooted back at their command but stayed crouched nearby. One man began working on Dodge while the other attended to Miguel. He'd regained consciousness and was trying to sit up while speaking in rapid-fire Spanish.
The sheriff hovered near Miguel, listening as he talked. She heard Miguel say a man with a gun shot into the car and caused the explosion. Sarah listened but nothing registered in her mind other than Dodge. The fireman working on his limp body used the radio to call for an ambulance.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I’m doing everything I can. I need you to stay back please, Ma’am.”
Sarah moved a step back and turned her head to see the scorched remains of a charred vehicle as it smoldered in the spray of water. The ranch was a bevy of activity; more police cars and fire trucks had arrived unnoticed. The ambulance, its bright lights mimicking a far off lighthouse, became the focus of her attention. She measured time in heartbeats, waiting for Dodge to open his eyes and yell at her for leaving the cabin.
###
Tommy Thornton raced through the emergency room doors of Westmoreland General, his tired eyes searching for a registration desk or someone to inquire about Dodge. An older woman with wiry gray hair and bright pink lipstick directed him to the waiting area around the corner.
He made the turn and wondered if there’d been any change since he’d last talked to Sarah. She’d called him over an hour ago, sounding like a hollowed-out version of herself. She was on her way to the hospital, following the ambulance that carried Dodge after an unexplained explosion had left him battered and unconscious. She didn’t have any details and what she’d passed on had been sketchy at best. She’d asked him to contact Dodge’s family, let them know he’d been hurt and was
on his way to Westmoreland. She’d barely gotten the last few words out through the tears he could hear in her voice. He only hoped she’d be okay to drive herself there and wondered what idiot had let her take off on her own in the first place.
He cussed himself for not being there for Dodge and Sarah when they all knew trouble was heading there way. Dodge had insisted he stay away from the ranch which boiled down to Dodge's stubborn determination to protect those he cared about to his own detriment.
The antiseptic smell slapped him in the face as he rounded the corner, slowing his gait. His dad had died in this hospital. The smell and the blinding light opened a cavern of his memory he’d thought long buried.
Two nurses spoke in hushed voices at nurses’ station, the mauve color of their uniform casting a deathlike pallor on their faces. He turned into the waiting area and saw Sarah. She sat curled in a chair along the wall, her head resting on her up drawn knees. He couldn’t tell from the angle of her face if her eyes were open or closed. When he touched her shoulder, her head shot up in panic. When recognition hit, she slumped back against the wall in relief.
“How is he?” Tommy asked and sat down next to her.
She rubbed her eyes and let her feet fall to the floor. “Still unconscious, I assume. They won’t give me much information since I’m not family. They’ve stitched him up and they’re waiting on some test results. They won’t let me see him.” Her lip quivered when she spoke and Tommy didn’t know what to do.
“I called Isabel. She’ll call the others. Someone will be here soon.” He patted her knee. “I’ll talk to them, don’t worry.” He knew she wouldn't feel better until she saw Dodge with her own two eyes. How long had she sat there alone, waiting for any shred of information, unable to see the man who’d so obviously touched her heart? Damn hospital rules.
“So what happened? Do you know anything more?”
Sarah wiped her nose with a tissue. “I don’t really know. I was in the cabin. I heard the explosion and found Dodge unconscious. Miguel was okay, a little spooked, but he said a guy tried to torch the barn.” She rubbed her temples with her fingers before slapping them down on her jeans. “He’d spread gasoline inside the barn and was about to light it when Dodge pulled his gun. After that I don’t know. The medics were working on the bad guy around the back of the car when I left. I’m not sure if he made it.” She paused, stood up to pace. “I guess I should call the sheriff.” Sarah chuckled. “You know Dodge is going to want to know what’s going on when he wakes up.”
Tommy watched her face crumble in an instant, like the laughter had cracked her heart wide open.
“I’m sorry,” she said abruptly, swiped away her tears. “I don’t mean to cry. I hate it when I cry.”
Tommy stood up and handed her his phone. He couldn't stand to be alone with a crying woman. “Call the sheriff.”
Chapter 22
Sheriff Darren Farley looked down at his new leather shoes and cursed. Nothing ever happened around Hailey and then bam, out of nowhere, a dead body, an unconscious local and an attempted arson. Throw in a pair of ruined $80 shoes and he had one hell of a bad night.
The stench of gasoline and the stuff the fire department had poured over it proved a bitch on his sinuses. As bad as the scene looked, they were all damn lucky the car fire hadn't ignited the barn.
Farley rubbed his temples and tried to think. What the hell had happened? Miguel said they’d been on the lookout for someone they expected to cause trouble. Said Dodge had shot him, but in his arm and not enough to kill him. Then Miguel had heard another shot before the car exploded. The only thing for sure was that the stiff couldn't fill in the gaps.
“Sheriff, take a look at this.” His deputy held what looked like a charred cell phone. “One of the firemen found it about twenty-five feet beyond the dead guy.”
Farley placed a glove on his hand and took it from the deputy. “Looks like it’s time for the dead guy to get a new phone.” He sighed as he dropped it into an evidence bag. “We’ll run it for prints, send it to the crime lab and see if we can get something. Anything else before they bag him?” He pulled his cell from his belt when he felt it vibrating. His deputy shook his head no as he turned away. “Sheriff Farley.”
“Sheriff, this is Sarah Woodward. Do you have any information about the fire or the trespasser?”
“I should ask the same of you. You shouldn't have left before I'd cleared you.”
“Does that mean you don’t know anything, or are you going to hold the information over my head until I answer your questions?”
Farley sighed and rubbed at the throbbing nerve in his neck. “It would be in your best interest to answer my questions, Mrs. Woodward. We don't have much beyond an unidentified body, a burned out car, and attempted arson.”
###
“So you don’t know anything,” Sarah said. She felt the extra weight added to her already burdened shoulders. “I’ll be happy to answer your questions, Sheriff, when Dodge is conscious and I’m sure he’s going to be okay. Until then, nothing else matters.” She closed the phone, shrugged her shoulders and handed the phone back to Tommy before taking her seat again.
“Sarah Woodward?” A nurse came around the entrance to the waiting room.
She bolted from the chair. “Yes.”
“Mr. Dodge is awake. He’s asking for you.”
Sarah gave Tommy a hopeful smile before following the nurse around the corner and down the hall. When she paused near a closed door, Sarah reached out and touched her arm. “Before I go in, what can you tell me about his condition?”
The nurse looked over the chart. “He’s conscious and appears lucid. We’ve stitched up his head and the gash on his leg. The leg needs to be watched for infection. He had some minor burns on his arms, but nothing bad.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “All in all, I’d say he’s pretty lucky from how the paramedics described the scene.”
Sarah nodded and cautiously pushed the door open. Dodge had four stitches over his brow. His eyes were closed and his bandaged leg, elevated over a pillow, lay under the thin white blanket. Her chest constricted at the sight of him, pale in the light of from halogen bulb. An IV dripped into his arm. She moved to the chair closest the bed, but couldn’t sit down.
She stood beside him, watched his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm and finally eased her hand between the bed and the rail to touch his fingers. They felt cold and she adjusted her arm so that her whole hand covered his. Why didn’t they give him warmer blankets, she wondered. She felt his fingers move beneath hers and watched raptly as his eyes opened to slits.
“Hey.” His voice sounded groggy. “Are you okay?”
Sarah’s breath hitched. “Am I okay?” She squeezed his hand and brushed a patch of hair off his forehead. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better.” The corner of his mouth tilted in a feeble attempt at a smile. “What happened?”
“Miguel said some guy tried to torch the barn and that his car exploded.”
Dodge closed his eyes, rolling his head from side to side on the pillow. “Someone tried to torch the barn. I shot him.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I don’t remember an explosion. Miguel?”
“He’s fine. Apparently you shielded him from the blast.” She sat in the chair when she noticed his eyes struggling to look up at her face. “Do you know who he was?”
Dodge tried to clear his throat, motioned for her to retrieve a cup of water from the side table. “No and I didn’t recognize his voice.” He took a long sip through the straw. “Did the sheriff take him in for questioning?”
“He’s dead.”
“Damn.”
Just when she thought he’d drifted off to sleep, his eyes opened and he grasped her hand. “But you’re okay?”
Sarah stood and leaned over the rail so she could move her face to his. “Yes, A.J., I’m fine.” She kissed his lips and rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “Get some rest, baby. I’ll be right here until they
kick me out.”
He tried to smile and let his eyes drift closed. A single tear slid from her eye and landed on his thin hospital gown. She watched, transfixed as the spot grew larger and then slowly, slowly disappeared. By the time the tear stain disappeared, Dodge was asleep. She settled into the chair and watched him sleep.
###
Sheriff Farley nearly fell into his chair in the tiny office of the Hailey Sheriff's department. He reached for the mug on his desk, hoping he’d rinsed it out the day before. “Damn” he said when the congealed goo at the base of the cup stared back at him. He put the mug back on the coaster and gave up the idea of having more coffee.
He’d come in to see if his team had lifted a fingerprint from the cell phone they’d found and to make a call to the hospital for Dodge’s status. He'd just reached for the phone when the only woman in the department knocked on the door he’d left ajar. “Sheriff, can I come in?” Her high-pitched octave set his teeth on edge, especially after so little sleep.
Farley waved her in and hoped she’d have brought him coffee like a good female employee should. He leaned back in his chair and scowled when she stood before him holding a single sheet of paper.
“We got two prints off the phone and we’re running them through the database now. What we thought was charring on the edges of the phone turned out to be soot. The damn thing rang while we were trying to get prints off.”
Farley sat up in his chair. “Did you answer it?”
“No sir, that would have compromised the fingerprints, but we did get the number and a good sized call history.”
Farley nodded his head like a damn bobble head doll, but couldn’t seem to make it stop. “All right then.” He took the list of phone numbers from her hand. “How soon will we know about the prints and the numbers?”
Dodge the Bullet Page 23
