Every choice, every action, had ripple effects. Like dominos, the things she did years ago had kick-started events happening now.
She wasn’t sure she’d want things to be different.
Without Chaz, there wouldn’t have been anyone to talk her down after that first op. She’d nearly... He’d saved her from making a terrible decision, just by talking about the latest firehouse antics.
He wouldn’t have been there following the disastrous op that could have cost her not just her job, but put her in jail.
Chaz was the single most important person in her life. When she was lost, he was her guiding light. When things got touchy, he anchored her to who she really was. Without him...she’d be everything the world made her out to be. Which was why, in the grand scheme of things, his life meant more than hers.
Her phone vibrated right at three o’ clock on the dot.
Payton answered the video chat.
The dark, grainy footage was hard to make out. The voices were muted. The vehicle turned and the bright lights decking out the front of Firehouse Three came into sharp focus.
She covered her mouth.
They’d agreed on the fire station because Payton knew Spencer or one of the other guys on his crew would be there. Chaz would need medical attention. Alice had balked at the idea of going to a hospital, simply because there were cameras everywhere. The fire station wasn’t that highly equipped.
The door of the vehicle opened.
“See ya, buddy,” a male voice said.
A large...something...was rolled out of what seemed to be the back seat of the—car?
The something unfolded, rolling to its back.
Chaz.
Payton covered her mouth.
Even in the dim light and the unfocused video she could tell they’d worked him over.
This was all her fault.
What about his knee?
God, she hoped he’d be okay. If he couldn’t be a firefighter anymore... If they’d robbed him of that...
The camera turned. The face of the man was hard to make out, but she heard him clearly.
“Your turn, bitch.”
Payton ended the call.
This was it.
Her hands shook.
She sucked down a deep breath.
Things were about to get a lot worse.
She briefly considered gassing it. Getting out of here. But then Alice would go after Chaz. She’d hurt him because Payton had made it clear he mattered to her. The only way to make sure Chaz was safe—forever—was to go through with the trade. Let Alice believe she had everything she wanted, and then, Webb could swoop in and close his precious case while her body cooled in some ditch.
Alice was cruel. Payton had two years of exposure to just what a wretched person Alice could be. Payton fully expected this to be worse than anything she’d seen before. Because not only had Payton betrayed her, Payton had made Alice vulnerable.
At least Chaz was okay.
A dark-colored SUV pulled up to the curb across the street. It was the right make and model Alice had said would pick her up.
Payton hit dial, speaking to the police operator without really thinking about her words. With the vehicle reported abandoned, the only thing to do was get in the SUV.
She left the keys and the burner phone Tate had given her in the car and got out.
Her service weapon and badge were at the safe house. She hadn’t given a reason for her betrayal. Webb would know and she would be burned at the stake for being a traitor.
At least Chaz was safe.
That was all that mattered.
She got out of the car and clicked the lock button.
This was it.
She turned—head high, shoulders back—and walked across to the waiting SUV.
Payton opened the back seat and slid in next to a bald man holding a gun on her.
“You must be Mikel,” she said.
Hello, executioner.
She had zero expectations about the longevity of her life.
She’d had a good go. She’d done her part to make a difference. The only regret she had was not telling Chaz she loved him. Finding out on a piece of paper was a crummy substitute, but it was the best she could do.
Chaz laid back on the gurney. Whatever they’d given him had dulled the pain and his brain. The swelling in his eye was better. He could see a bit out of it, though the last thing he wanted was to lay eyes on was Spencer and Abby. They’d been hovering at the foot of his bed since they rolled him in here.
“Anyone get Mom on the phone yet? Where’s Payton?” He’d asked the same damn questions a dozen times with no answer.
Only this time, he could sort of see the way Abby flinched, how she glanced away from him.
“Take it easy, man. Those stitches—”
“Shut the hell up, Spencer.” Painkillers went a long way in making Chaz grumpier. He didn’t like the woozy, woo-woo feeling. “Abby?”
She opened and closed her mouth.
What day was it?
He’d been on shift Wednesday. Someone earlier had said it was Friday.
The day he would typically have off—as would Abby. And Spencer.
Then why had they been at the station at three in the morning?
The drugs might make him slow, but he wasn’t stupid.
Chaz pushed up and swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed.
Spencer took two strides and tried to nudge Chaz back down.
“You really need to—”
“What the hell aren’t you telling me, Abby?”
“Don’t yell at her like that,” Spencer snapped.
“Abby?”
“I just...” She ran her hands down the braid hanging over her shoulder, deep lines of worry creasing her face.
“What did you do, Abby?” Spencer asked.
“Nothing. But...” She lifted her gaze, staring at Chaz. “She came to see me yesterday afternoon. She gave me this to give to you. I thought I’d wait, but...maybe that was a mistake.” Abby pulled out a folded and creased envelope, similar to the one Payton had sent him by way of Tate.
Chaz snatched the envelope from her and ripped it open.
Chaz,
Before you read this, take a deep breath and sit down?
He was sitting, but breathing was impossible, even with the oxygen shooting up his nose. His chest was too tight.
If you’re reading this—and I hope you will—then you’re safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, was to keep you safe and do my part to make the world a better place. I’ve screwed up a lot in my life, but you never rubbed my nose in it. You’ve always seen more good in me than I think exists.
“That’s not true,” he mumbled.
You’ve done so much for me over the years. You’ve kept me grounded. You’ve been my moral compass. Without you I don’t know where or who I’d be. Which is why I’m doing this.
“No, no, no...” He knew what was coming, because Alice had let him go. Because he was alive and breathing.
I love you.
I’ve never said that to anyone in my whole life. I’m not sure I can even say it out loud because the truth is that it terrifies me. I don’t know how to be the woman you deserve, but I know how to do my job. By the time you get this, I’ll be with Alice. Not because I want to, but because it was the only way to get you back before something unspeakable happened.
Give Martha a hug for me? Tell her I’m sorry I wrecked the house. My life insurance should cover the repairs and then some. You and Martha are 50/50 beneficiaries.
I love you, Chancelor Fairchild. I always have, and I always will. But you don’t have to. Live. Be happy. Don’t come looking for me.
“Chaz? Chaz, you have to breathe.” Spencer gripped him by the shoulder.
“Get off.” Chaz shoved Spencer back, desperate to read the last part.
One last thing. A courier will drop off a package to the station for you today. It’s a safety deposit key. Inside
the box is a video confession and my reports on Alice. Going back through some of my things, I think I know the key to breaking the encryption on the phone. Chances are Webb can’t use them, but given the choices I have to make, it’s the best I could do. He was more concerned with the case than the cost of human lives. It’s not a choice I could go along with. Not when it was you.
I love you, Chaz.
The bottom of the paper was dimpled with spheres of water damage.
Tears.
She’d cried writing this.
He’d been certain that the DEA was on it. They were invested in this case. In catching Alice. But according to her...they hadn’t been interested in looking for him. The few things Payton had said about her superiors was not...to be liked.
What time was it?
He glanced at the clock.
It was creeping past seven in the morning.
He’d been at the ER for...over three hours.
If there was anything wrong with him besides a busted rib, a gash that’d been stitched and some bruising, they’d have known about it by now.
Chaz jerked the oxygen hose off his face and began peeling tape off his arm.
“Hey—hey, stop that.” Spencer reached out, grabbing Chaz by the wrist.
“Get your hands off me, Boyd.” Chaz stared at Spencer.
“Easy, you’re going to hurt yourself yanking things like that.” Spencer stared at Chaz. “Let me do it.”
“What? He can’t go anywhere.” Abby gripped the foot of his bed. “Chaz—you’re hurt.”
“And Payton could be dead.” He held out his arm while Spencer removed the IV.
“But, won’t the cops do something? The DEA?”
Chaz glanced at Spencer who seemed to be studiously ignoring that statement.
“I need to get to the station.” From there he could get in his truck and...what? He had no idea where the DEA offices were, how to find her boss, Webb.
“All right. All right. Fine.” Abby threw up her hands. “I’ll bring my truck around.”
Spencer handled getting Chaz’s discharge expedited.
He had enough painkillers already at home—he didn’t need anything beyond the stitches. At least physically. Internally, he needed Payton. She was his heart. Without her, he couldn’t go on.
Payton stifled the groan working its way up her throat.
Her head throbbed, so she must have only blacked out for a moment. It hurt too bad for much time to have passed. Her neck felt rubbery, her head too heavy. But if she moved, the pain would be excruciating.
Whiplash.
The guy—M-something—he’d gotten her pretty damn good twice in a row.
Payton had never been very good at taking a punch. She could shoot or run to save her life. But put her in a fistfight? Nope. Not her area of expertise.
They’d only just begun, but Payton didn’t have much of an expectation that she’d last long. She was a weenie when it came to pain. Always had been, no matter how she tried to bluff her way through things.
The man gripped her by the chin, forcing her head up.
Her neck twinged, a deep muscle ache that screamed something is wrong.
She yelped, unable to keep the sound in.
Payton stared up into the eyes of the soulless puppet Alice had set on her.
This man was cold. She’d met versions of him in all the darkest pits of humanity. He was greedy, callous towards others and violent. She could recite his crimes without even knowing his name.
He lifted his hand.
Payton flinched, her cheekbone throbbing already.
“Wait, Mikel,” Alice snapped, her clear, calm voice resounding like a bell in the otherwise silent room.
Her heels clicked on the floor.
Payton didn’t dare turn her head. For one, she couldn’t. Mikel had a hold of her. And, it hurt too damn bad.
Alice stared at Payton.
It was strange seeing her hair color on Alice. She was a much better blonde. The silver-gray dye she was using had already begun to streak in places. The black was too harsh.
Alice must hate having to look like Payton.
“Take a break, Mikel.” Alice crossed her arms over her chest.
“You want me to leave, Mr. Smoke?” Mikel backed up a step.
“Yes. Leave us.”
Alice wasn’t snapping the man’s head off. She must want to keep him around. She always suffered the obvious questions from those she liked.
Payton stared at Alice, staring at her.
Mikel’s footsteps grew fainter. A door opened and closed.
The silence thickened.
Payton swallowed.
So far, so good. Now she had to play the rest of her part. Either she needed to stall and give Webb time to find her, or she needed to sell her lies to Alice. Disarm her. Make her think the danger has passed. Then, once Webb got his shit together, he could scoop Alice up at his leisure. By then, Payton would be dead. Alice was a cat toying with its mouse right now. Payton had no ideals about her lifespan. Her hours were limited. She doubted she’d get another day in. But she could still do her job. She could make Alice vulnerable.
“How’d you do it?” Alice asked.
It had to burn her buttons that Payton had cracked the phone. Alice had spent a fortune ensuring her device was secure.
“Water?” Payton’s voice cracked.
“Tell me first.”
“Give me water so I can tell you.” She didn’t need water, but she had to gauge how desperate Alice was. How much Payton needed to sell this.
For several long seconds, they stared at each other.
Alice was perfectly poised. Under control. Not a hair out of place. She’d had her make-up professionally done. That wasn’t her normal palette. This was Alice’s version of Kevlar and riot gear.
She was scared.
“Fine.” Alice huffed and strode across to a mini fridge.
Payton allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Alice wanted the knowledge more than she wanted Payton dead. Alice had lost her edge, she was off balance and flailing.
That was good. Payton could squeeze a few more minutes out of her life.
Alice returned, the bottle in hand. She held it out, the befuddled expression on her face almost darling.
“I’m tied up. You’re going to have to pour it down my throat. Careful, you could drown me.” Payton smiled, though it was more of a grimace.
Alice glared at her for a moment.
She twisted the top off and tipped the bottle up, sloshing water down the front of Payton’s shirt and onto her lap before the bottle made contact with Payton’s lips.
Petty. Alice wanted something from Payton—she had to at least play ball, but she didn’t have to like it.
Payton’s chances were improving.
“Thanks for the bath.” Payton turned her head, gritting her teeth against the pain, and wiped her chin on her shoulder.
“Now, the phone.” Alice pulled the phone from her pocket. “How did you crack it?”
“I didn’t.”
“You used it to email me.”
“I did. But I never cracked the encryption. No one can.”
“But you got access to the phone.” Alice’s voice was rising, growing shriller.
“Yes, I did, but I can’t break the encryption. I... I installed a password breaker on the phone a couple of weeks ago, when you had me call Brent. All that did was give me a way to...log in without being you.”
“Why? Why would you do that? I thought we had a good thing going.” Alice almost stamped her foot.
They sounded like a couple undergoing a break-up. Alice was the woman who never saw it coming. And Payton was the guy, running around on his too-pretty girlfriend. They were a trope. A sad, cookie cutter Ken and Barbie. But what it really meant was that Payton still had a chance at hoodwinking Alice.
“I thought...I figured as long as I had the phone, I could have it all.” She shrugged. “Everyone already thought I was
the one in charge. Why not be in charge? All I’d have to do was get rid of the inner circle.”
“You bitch. After all I’ve done for you...” Alice shook her head.
Could they get any more cliché?
The next thing Alice would spout was that she wasted her best years on Payton... If she went there, then things would get weird.
“The DEA. You called them in, didn’t you?” Alice’s upper lip curled in a sneer.
“Yeah, I did. The plan would have worked if they’d gotten you, too.”
“They didn’t get Brent.”
Payton chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Alice snapped.
“Brent, he’s in on it. This was his idea. Cut you and the others out. With me as the face, and him cooking up the drugs, what did we need the rest of you for?”
“You’re lying.”
“Okay. I’m lying.” Payton was, but that wasn’t the point. She just needed to plant enough doubt for Alice to lose her cool. To make a rash decision.
“Brent is the one who rescued me. He helped me set all this up.” Alice gestured to the room.
“What? A dirty, back room office in some abandoned warehouse on the wrong side of Dallas? Please. If Brent was really going to set you up, wouldn’t he have used some of that money he’s been hoarding, to do it right? Buy a place off the books, somewhere with central air and plumbing.”
Alice crossed her arms across her chest, the perfect mask cracking. Just a bit. But it was there.
If Payton could alienate Alice, make her distrust her people, she’d be flushed out. Webb could still get the girl, so to speak. Payton could still do right by her job—and Chaz.
18.
Anger fueled Chaz. White, hot rage.
“What do you mean you aren’t looking for her?” He braced his hands on the desk and leaned forward.
Special Agent Robert Webb didn’t even glance up at Chaz. He just kept clicking away at whatever was on his laptop screen.
“I cannot divulge the particulars of an on-going investigation. We appreciate you coming in to fill us in on all the information you gleaned, and are sorry for what you had to endure—”
Up in Smoke (Firehouse Three, #4) Page 18
