Firestorm (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 4)

by Piper Stone

  “Yep. They found a device, but the damn thing was unarmed.”

  “Any idea of the perpetrator?”

  “Not from what Shannon heard,” Landen said. “One of the city council members has disappeared too.”

  Riker snorted. “I’m beginning to wonder if any of the powers that be are on the up and up.”

  “I hear that. Then again, the mayor is doing an okay job.” Landen polished off his beer. After a few seconds of quiet, he pushed back his chair. “Okay, Mr. Talkative, do you want to see a game or something this weekend? Just you and I?”

  Narrowing his eyes, he’d known something was wrong with Landen for almost two weeks. His buddy had stayed late at work and hadn’t bothered to come to Ziggy’s more than once. “What’s up with you and Shannon?”

  “Eh, nothing.”

  “My turn to say bullshit.” Riker offered a slight grin.

  “I don’t know. Growing pains. I think she’s been spending too much time around Jessica and Stoker. You know, the baby coming and all.”

  “That’s interesting. Does she want a kid now?”

  Landen looked away. “I’m beginning to think she does. She won’t tell me in so many words, but she’s hinting.”

  “At what? Marriage? Babies? Shannon is the kind of woman who comes right out and tells you exactly what she wants. That’s what you love about her.” The old angst settled into his system. There had been a time, albeit short lived, that he’d wanted nothing more than to spend quality time with Shannon. Then she’d become more like a little sister. While he was happy for the two of them, he could tell there was trouble in paradise.

  “That’s the issue. She’s not telling me anything, but she’s barking lately, reminding me of all my sins. You know how I am.”

  “Pigheaded?” Riker grinned. When his friend remained quiet, he exhaled. “Look, just talk to her. You know. Talk?”

  “I’m trying. Just hard right now. I don’t know why.”

  “Love, dude. That’ll do it to you.”

  “Yeah, you oughta know. I should take tips from you and your marriage.” Landen laughed then shut down. “I’m sorry. That was shitty of me.”

  A sadness crept into his heart that was more difficult than seeing Grace’s sweet face. He closed his eyes and winced, hearing her little cries and giggles. “Just let it go. Okay?”

  “Yeah. Sure. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”

  “Let. It. Go!” Riker hated the nasty tone in his voice but the last thing he needed was to be reminded of the past in any manner.

  Before Landen had a chance to reply, both of their cell phones rang. “What the hell?”

  “Not another damn fire. Jesus.” Riker jerked out his phone. Seeing the emergency system, the one for the entire city go off, he looked up at Landen. “I’ll make the call.” The platform had been recently established, allowing every emergency team to know about various emergencies. However, the system had only been used once.

  “Yeah. This isn’t normal.”

  He dialed the number. “Riker Sheffield from the Missoula Auxiliary Smokejumping team. What is the emergency?”

  “We have a report of a bomb threat at the corner of Second and Main Street in the Best Buy box store. What is your location?” the dispatcher asked, urgency in her voice.

  “We are located across the street. Is there any additional information?” Riker glanced out the window, eyeing the stand-alone store. From what he could tell, there were several people inside.

  “None. The call was made ten minutes ago. You are the closest EMT in proximity. Proceed with caution. Get everyone out. The bomb squad is on the way. ETA is five minutes.”

  “Will do.” Bomb squad? Since when did they have an actual bomb squad? Riker jerked out his wallet, yanking and dropping two twenties. “We have to go, brother.”

  “What’s going on?” Landen immediately jumped to his feet.

  “Outside.” Riker darted his eyes in the direction of the full restaurant.

  Nodding, he followed Riker outside, his face pensive. “What’s going on?”

  “Bomb threat.”

  “What? Are you kidding me? Just like the other one. A call was made then nothing. Might be a hoax.”

  “We can’t take that chance. We’re the closest team.”

  Landen groaned as they jogged across the street. “Team? Shit, we’re not equipped for this.”

  “Yeah? Well, we have to get the people out. Now.” Riker hit the entrance first, moving inside and taking long strides toward the cash register by the door. “Where’s your manager?”

  “In the back,” the kid answered, giving Riker a contemptuous look.

  “Get him or her out here, now.” While Riker kept his voice down, he made certain the young man could see the commanding look on his face as he pointed to the smokejumping badge on his jacket. At least the damn thing was official looking. “Now.”

  “Yes, sir. Ms. Maverick. Will you come up to the front immediately?” the kid mouthed into the microphone.

  “How many employees are in the back?” Landen asked as he surveyed the store.

  “Five, maybe six.”

  “Get them up here as well but do it quietly,” Landen instructed.

  Nodding, the young man locked and moved away from his register, scampering toward the back.

  “Go ahead and start asking everyone to leave. Mention that there is an electrical issue.” Riker could tell they were already being watched by at least two customers.

  “Yep. Got it.” Landen headed toward the aisles.

  Riker waited until the manager approached, her eyes darting back and forth.

  “Can I help you?” She glanced up and down, her expression exasperated.

  “Mrs. Maverick, we have a situation.” Riker took her arm, leading her outside. “My name is Riker Sheffield and I’m with the Missoula smokejumpers. We need to get everyone out of your store immediately. There’s been a bomb threat. Make an announcement that there’s been an electrical issue and the store must be shut down. Nothing more. Understand?”

  “Are you kidding me?” she blinked and looked up and down the street. “Smokejumpers? You have no authority here.”

  “I’m a public servant with the city emergency team. My authority is to make certain that you, as well as your customers and employees are safe. While I apologize for the interruption, there is no time to wait. Just go inside and make the announcement,” Riker encouraged, yet he heard the distinct edge in his voice as he towered over the diminutive woman. “Time is of the essence. Am I making myself clear?” If he had to handle the announcement himself, he sure as shit would. “Now!” He could see the first group of customers coming outside, watching every move he was making. “Please, just get away from the building. Go across or down the street.” Now, he was barking orders. Hoax or no hoax, they couldn’t take any chances.

  Frowning, she gave his badge a second look. “If that’s absolutely necessary.”

  “It is!”

  “Fine.” As she headed back inside, he scanned the area for any sign of an unwanted visitor, including any suspicious vehicles. Nothing drew his attention. He noticed the calm but questioning face of a young woman, her eyes never leaving his actions, her strawberry blonde hair fluttering in the wind. She stood with her arms crossed, a wry smile on her face. A single siren sounded in the distance. Damn, they were taking their sweet time.

  “What’s going on?” A wide-eyed woman asked, her tone bordering hysteria.

  “Why don’t you come with me,” the strawberry blonde tugged at the older woman’s arm then beckoned to several of the other customers as they raced out of the building.

  Riker nodded in her direction, giving her a respectful look then heard several terrified yelps, forcing several of the bystanders to become not only curious but terrified. Hissing, he walked back inside just as the manager finished her statement.

  “Thank you and we apologize. Please come back later,” Mrs. Maverick said, her voice now s
haking.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, right this way. Please go outside and move away from the perimeter.” Riker directed, keeping a smile on his face. He could tell the hysteria was mounting.

  “What’s going on, officer?” A young man fidgeted as he approached. “Come on, Mama. We need to go.”

  “Just some electrical issues. Nothing to worry about,” he answered, ushering them to the door.

  “That’s bullshit. I’m an electrician,” the young man said.

  “Sir, go outside. Now. Do you understand me?” Riker was in no mood to play games of any sort.

  “Is there a bomb threat?” the man demanded, getting in Riker’s face.

  “Hold on here. Please just follow directions,” Mrs. Maverick half-whispered.

  “What?” the older woman yelped as she dropped her bags.

  Riker shook his head. “Outside. Please. Come on.” He moved past the line of people and could feel the vibe of fear increasing. When it appeared everyone was out, he motioned toward the manager. “All the employees out?”

  “Yes, I think so,” she stated, wringing her hands.

  “Go outside. I’ll do a last sweep. Keep everyone back at least two blocks. Do you understand?”

  “I do. Thank you. I…”

  “Come on, I’ll take you outside.” Landen took her by the arm.

  “I’ll go down the aisles and check the back again.” Riker scanned the store.

  “Don’t be a hero on this one,” Landen said gruffly.

  Riker waved him on and took long strides, moving up and down the aisles before heading into the back. He slammed his hand against the bathroom door, going inside and checking under the stalls. Passing through the two offices, he studied the area, looking for any concept of a bomb. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

  The stock room in the back was filled with boxes as well as pallets of merchandise. A damn bomb could be hidden anywhere. He made certain there was no one hiding inside and could hear the sirens all around him. Just as he was about to walk out of the room, he noticed a group of boxes on the exterior wall. They were empty but instead of being broken down, as a nearby pile would indicate the practice, the boxes were piled on top of each other.

  Sucking in his breath, he took careful steps in the direction, gently pulling first one then a second off the pile. When he reached the bottom, he blew out the heated air. A black box stood on the concrete floor, a single red-light blinking. “Fuck me.” This had to be the bomb. Against his better judgment, he crouched down, studying the object. He’d been around a few bombs in his career, mostly after they’d detonated. This appeared to be the real thing.

  The sirens drew closer and he inched back away from the object. Don’t be a hero. The words reverberated in the back of his mind, only they didn’t belong to his partner, but the woman who had been his entire world. What the hell did it matter? He studied the bomb, listening for any sounds, ticking or otherwise. Part of him wanted to dismantle it, see what they were really dealing with.

  No. This was crap. There was no sense in getting himself killed over some asshole who wanted nothing more than to showcase his testosterone levels. He jogged toward the entrance, racing outside just as a group of fire engines and other emergency vehicles pulled up.

  “Shit. There you are. What the fuck were you doing?” Landen chastised as he stormed in Riker’s direction. “We have hysterical people out here.”

  “Trying to figure out what we were dealing with.” Riker moved to the curb, heading in the direction of the sheriff’s car.

  “You were pretty rough on the manager.”

  The words caught Riker off guard. Stopping short, he glared at the blonde, a nasty retort on the tip of his tongue. They locked eyes as he walked closer until he was able to inhale her perfume, the exotic scent filling his nostrils. She was attractive, he’d give her that, but no doubt a handful, arrogant and opinionated. “Necessary when bystanders interfere with an emergency situation.”

  “Emergency? I thought this was an electrical issue.” Her face held a look of amusement.

  There was no reason for him to care what she thought, but at this moment, he did. “Even a malfunctioning power supply can mean potential danger.”

  “Danger. Of course.” She looked at the crowd. “Sometimes people just want to know everything in their meager world is going to be all right,” she stated so that only he could hear.

  Before he had an opportunity to comment, he noticed the sheriff heading in his direction.

  “Riker Sheffield. Right? Sheriff Brennan James. Is everyone out?” He surveyed the scene, turning his head back and forth.

  “Yeah. There’s a bomb located in the back room,” Riker answered in a hushed tone as the young woman backed away.

  “Yeah. That’s what the asshole caller said. Same damn voice as the other night. Get out of here and let the bomb squad do their jobs. You did good, buddy. Thanks for the help,” Sheriff James said then immediately moved away.

  “Come on, Riker. Nothing else we can do,” Landen said under his breath and tugged at Riker’s arm.

  Riker shook his head. The last thing they needed was another threat in the city. Whatever Shannon had heard was true. This was getting out of hand. “Yeah. Whatever.” He stood for a few seconds then walked toward the street.

  “I can tell that look in your eye. What’s bugging you?” Landen yanked out his sunglasses.

  “There’s something about that bomb that doesn’t seem right.” He thought about the mechanism, the almost cheap plastic.

  “And you’re the bomb expert?”

  “I’ve seen a few in my day.” Riker made mental note of the design of the supposed bomb. Perhaps Antonio would have a few ideas. Considered the bomb expert on the team, he’d been able to utilize his skills on several occasions. “I bet the asshole is watching us right now, enjoying the calamity he created.”

  Landen snorted. “I would agree with you. Longing for those fifteen minutes of fame.”

  “Gentlemen, do you mind telling me what’s really going on?” The same blonde approached both men, her arms crossed.

  The girl’s voice was softer, less inflammatory and the sound sent an odd series of sensations into his belly. Riker turned in her direction. “As we mentioned, simply electrical issues.”

  “With all this firepower?” She nodded toward the various EMT vehicles. “I think you have a bomb on your hands.” A wry smile crossed her face.

  He resisted the snarky words that came to his mind. “While I appreciated your help earlier, let the firemen and other emergency personnel do their jobs. You can go ahead and leave.”

  Landen glanced back and forth. “Are you aware of any details we should know about, Miss? Did you see anyone fleeing the scene?”

  Narrowing her eyes, she darted a look toward the edge of the building. “A black van drove off just as I arrived. Does that help?”

  “Maybe. Did you notice any distinguishable marks, a logo or happen to see the driver,” Riker asked, as if it was his job to play detective. He could see such fire in her eyes as well as amusement. She seemed to be looking right through him or perhaps into his very soul. Damn, if he wasn’t uncomfortable as shit.

  “Unfortunately, I wasn’t paying that close of attention. Just came here to buy a television.”

  “That’s a shame, but you should tell the sheriff what you saw. Might come in handy,” Landen said as he smiled. When she didn’t look in his direction, he stepped in between them. “Come on. I’ll guide you across the street.”

  “You’re that smokejumper. Right?” She took a step away from Landen and directed her question to Riker.

  “I’m a member of a smokejumping team. Why? Are you some reporter looking for fame and fortune? Trust me. I don’t need another damn story written about me.”

  She laughed. “Hell, no. I freaking loathe the vultures who think they’re investigating the news. I’m merely a curious tourist, new to your town. Even Los Angeles isn’t this exciting.”


  Riker shook his head and took her by the arm, curious about her vehemence. “Need to get you out of the way, Ms...”

  “Hargrove, Trinity Hargrove and I can handle myself. Thank you, Mr. Sheffield.” Yanking her arm away from his grip, she stood defiantly, her eyes never leaving him.

  Landen inched closer, a grin crossing his face. “Having issues there, buddy?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle. The lady was just leaving,” Riker insisted. “You can go see that nice deputy over there and give your statement about the van.”

  “Uh-huh. I can see that. You’re doing a great job with the ladies.” Landen held out his hand. “Landen Weaver.”

  “As I said, Ms. Hargrove was just leaving,” Riker snapped. Los Angeles. The city of the rich and famous. Perfect. No wonder she had a haughty attitude.

  “Lover’s quarrel,” Landen said under his breath then popped Riker on the shoulder.

  Trinity lifted a single eyebrow, her look of amusement fading.

  An air of tension remained.

  “Okay, well we need to get back to the hangar, don’t we?” Landen asked, taking a couple of steps back.

  “The way you saved that little boy and his dog was courageous. The whole bar was talking about you the other night, cheering you on as if you were indeed some kind of hero. Sad to see that you have a chip on your shoulder the size of a boulder. Kind of dampens the knight in shining armor aspect. Don’t you think?” Trinity shook her head and turned away, walking into the crowd.

  “Wow. I see you haven’t lost your touch with the ladies. Impressive,” Landen snickered.

  Riker snagged his sunglasses from his shirt pocket and jammed them on his face, watching as she faded into the distance. What in the hell was that about? “Tourists. Pain in the ass.”