by Piper Stone
“How good, Tanner?”
He narrowed his eyes as he looked at me. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“Did he tell you anything about why he joined the fire department?”
“Just that he felt closer to Jaime. Why? Is there something wrong?”
“I don’t know, to be honest with you. Just surprising that he’d do something like that when he had so much here.”
Tanner followed my gaze. “You knew Drake well enough to know he was very private. What I do know is that he adored Jaime. She was the sun and moon and then some. When she died, a piece of Drake was lost forever. When he joined the fire department, he came alive again. Besides, he only took a shift a week.”
One shift. To honestly think that on the night of the fire he’d been working was unfathomable. “I appreciate you telling me. Anything I should know?”
“You should receive the week’s report tomorrow. I liked to go over it with Drake, but if you’d prefer, I can try and email it.”
I gave him another smile. “No, I need to get to know the ranch. I’d like to get a tour in a day or so. I do plan on being hands on.” Even if I had some business to take care of with the military.
“There is one thing. We’re short a man. My second in command left a couple weeks ago when his wife was transferred. I’ve already put out feelers, but pretty much all those who know how to run a ranch are spoken for. If you hear of anyone, let me know.”
“I’ll see if I can think of anyone.” Who the hell did I know who could run a crew?
“Good enough,” Tanner said. “I’ll let you go. We’ll talk tomorrow then.”
“Sounds good. One other question. Did Drake have anyone cleaning the house?”
Tanner laughed. “Yeah. He was the most organized man I knew but couldn’t clean worth shit. He had a lady come in once a week.”
“Okay. Thank you. See you tomorrow.” That at least solved the issue of why the house was in such good condition. Unfortunately, I could place trust in very few people. Maybe all this was a wild goose chase, but as long as the nagging remained, I was going to look hard into finding answers.
I remained on the porch, watching as Tanner drove away, still rattled from seeing Ashley. While I had no evidence to speak of, I wanted nothing more than to have a long chat with the fire investigator. Maybe he or she could shed some light on the situation. My instincts were still on a roll. The fact Drake had worked that fire far too suspicious in my mind. However, I had a feeling no one was going to talk to me. Why would they?
As I turned to go back inside, I heard the rumble of another vehicle approaching. Curious, I waited, leaning against the porch railing. Maybe this was another crewmember. Maybe this would add to the freaking mystery. I huffed from the thoughts alone, already weary of the entire situation. As the Bronco drew closer, I felt a moment of tension and I had no idea why.
While I wasn’t certain from where, I immediately recognized the guy who stepped out of the cab. I walked down the stairs, studying him intently.
“Hawk. Not sure if you remember me but I was at the fire station yesterday when you came in.”
Yeah, now I knew who he was. He’d seemed curious yet hadn’t bothered to approach me.
“I remember.” He’d been up front washing one of the engines, watching our every move. “Although I don’t know your name.”
“Calen Porter. I knew your brother pretty well.”
“Calen.” I studied him as he approached, could easily tell he was nervous. “What can I do for you?”
He glanced from side to side. Why did I have a feeling there was some kind of conspiracy in town? “Look, I kinda heard what you were asking the chief. I know he gave you Drake’s things.”
“He did. It seems the chief doesn’t know anything other than what’s on the report.”
Calen took a couple of steps closer. “That’s because he’s been paid well not to say anything.”
“What are you getting at?” Now my hackles were raised.
“Drake knew there was something going on with several well-known officials. That’s why he joined the fire department.”
“What kind of things, Calen?” I kept my tone from shifting to anger. Was there some kind of ridiculous conspiracy?
“The buildings are worth more burned than standing the way they are.”
“Yeah. That much I already gathered.”
He sighed, scanning the perimeter again. “While I don’t know who all is involved, Drake was certain that the chief was paid to accept the report on this last fire. I don’t know if I buy that.”
“Why?” I asked, studying him carefully. He was pensive as fuck, beads of sweat forming on his upper lip.
“Brad Kincade has been a friend of my father’s for years. I just can’t see him as part of the problem.”
Exhaling, I thought about what he was saying. “There are times people aren’t who we hope they will be, surprising us to the point we have difficulty believing that they aren’t who we believed them to be.”
“Sounds like you’ve experienced this before,” he said as he shifted from foot to foot. He was nervous as fuck. Nah, I didn’t like this one bit. If the chief had anything to do with Drake’s death, I would string him up to the tallest tree.
“Yeah, I know something about it. Drake wasn’t supposed to be working that night, was he?”
“No,” he said quietly. “A couple of the guys called in sick. Drake was pulled in and of course he said yes. He was sent in after being told there might be a victim inside. You know the rest about what happened.”
“So, you’re saying he was murdered.”
“I’m saying that Drake got in the way, asking too many questions. My guess is that he got too close.”
I took a deep breath, studying him intently. “Why burn the buildings then?”
“I don’t know all the details. I honestly don’t. Drake only mentioned it about a week before the fire where he died. He said he’d found something that confirmed there would be a few more fires before it was all over. He alluded to the fact this had been going for a long time and that a hell of a lot of money was involved. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he was nervous, and I don’t blame him with needing to take care of his little girl and all.”
“Was this evidence in his locker?”
Calen shook his head. “I don’t think so. Drake was smart, although I could tell he was scared and didn’t know who to trust. I told him to go to the sheriff. He said he thought the sheriff might be involved. That’s the only person he mentioned then he clammed up. My guess is that he kept the information here, but he never told me one way or the other. You didn’t find anything?”
“Nope. Is there a chance these fires could be set in such a way that even an experienced fire inspector wouldn’t be able to tell the cause?”
He sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. “Yes, it’s possible, but it would take a hell of a lot of expertise and I couldn’t begin to tell you what kind of explosives could be used. What I can tell you is that the fire inspector is damn good at his job.”
“So, you don’t think the fire inspector is involved.”
“I’d bet my life on it.”
“Why do you care, Calen? Sounds like this is a bad situation to find yourself in.”
He seemed taken aback. “You mean other than the fact Drake was a friend of mine? I care because some good men have been injured or killed over the last few years and if there is some serial arsonist out there, then I want him found. The other reason? The fire inspector is my father.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re the informant. Aren’t you? You’ve given information to a reporter that hasn’t been in town long so you expect that she’s certainly one that can be trusted. Isn’t that right, Calen? You are trying to do the right thing.”
An immediate flush crept up along his jaw, his eyes locking with mine. “I’m not certain what you mean, Sergeant Travers. However, if there is information
to provide and you don’t know who to trust, how in the hell could anyone get it out there? At least enough so that hard questions are asked?”
I could tell by the look on his face that he’d made the calls to Bryce and I knew the reason why. I also realized that he wasn’t the one who’d made the threats. “If someone were to expose this group of individuals, would they be in danger?”
“Yes, they would, which is why I hope anyone who asks questions treads lightly, including you. Your brother thought the world of you. He certainly wouldn’t want anything to happen.”
I hissed, my anger increasing.
“Did you have a call last night, a fire occurring somewhere?” I asked, catching the news.
“No. Why?”
“Just curious.”
Calen inched even closer. “Be careful, Hawk. Things have changed since you’ve been away. While there are some good people in various commands, there are some who want nothing more than to take over the world. There’s a lot of money in pushing this town to grow. If Drake was right about his fears, this thing needs to get blown wide open. But powerful people will stop at nothing to get what they want, including murder.”
That much I knew without a shadow of a doubt.
There was no way I was allowing Bryce to remain out of my sight and my protection.
I’d chain her to the bed if necessary.
Chapter Fourteen
Hawk
Soot and char.
I’d know the stench anywhere. As I climbed out of the truck, the nasty odor hit me immediately. Something was smoldering on the property. My thoughts drifted to the fire she’d heard about from the night before. Whoever was threatening her had wanted to send a message. Well, I’d received it loud and clear.
I glanced at the little house Bryce was staying in. Her truck wasn’t parked in front and there was no sign of any disturbance. Goddamn it. Where the hell was she? She wasn’t at work and Jason hadn’t seen her. Unless the fucker was lying to me, she’d called in sick. I didn’t buy that shit for a second. She’d gone off halfcocked again, trying to play amateur sleuth. I had no doubt.
I walked around the house to the back, walking up the deck stairs and trying the door. Locked. Damn it. And it was stuck tighter than before, preventing me from getting inside. Peering inside did little but irritate the hell out of me. The furniture was just as I’d remembered, nothing turned over or broken. I doubted anyone had tossed the place, but the nagging feeling that she was in danger remained. Had another threat been sent to her? I couldn’t rule anything out.
Where the fuck would she go?
The list of people she would consider suspects was a mile long.
I searched the rest of the property, finding nothing that would give me any idea as to her whereabouts. Then I found an open window, but only by a crack. Bryce would have been very careful making certain every door and window was locked before considering leaving. Growling, I pushed the sash open, easily crawling inside, my nerves on edge as I scanned the room. I’d been in the military long enough to know when things seemed too tidy, as if extreme care had been used to make certain everything was in its place.
Easing the gun into my hand, I moved through the rest of the house, finding everything exactly where it should be. With a single exception.
A broken glass.
I hunkered down, lifting one of the larger pieces into my fingers. There was no doubt in my mind there was blood on the edge. While Bryce could have cut herself accidentally, leaving the remnants for when she returned, my gut told me something else. I didn’t like this on any level.
When I stood, I noticed a blood smear on the counter, the location where I’d seen her keys. Now my stomach churned, anger turning into rage. Something had happened to her. God help the asshole who hurt her. I grabbed one of the towels, wrapping the glass inside before slamming my fist on the counter. Even Calen’s words hadn’t resonated completely with me. He had certain doubts himself, creating more in my mind.
There had to be someone Bryce would have talked to. Fuck me.
Her friend.
Becca something.
Huffing, I realized I knew someone by that name from one hell of a long time ago. Was it possible it was the same girl I’d spent some time with years before? I couldn’t rule out anything. I jumped in the truck, making a call to 4-1-1 as I turned over the engine. “Operator, I need the number for Becca Sampson, a local attorney in Missoula, Montana.”
When the computer generated the number, connecting me immediately, I pressed down on the accelerator as I dialed the number. I didn’t believe in coincidences. Maybe fate was working overtime.
The sultry voice was one that brought back memories, the time I’d shared with her special even if there’d been no way we could maintain the limited relationship. Still, I felt as if karma was ripping a hole in my ass. “Becca, this is Jake Travers. I think we have a mutual friend, Bryce Myers. I need to meet you immediately. Period. This meeting will happen.” After rattling off one of the local bars I remembered, I almost laughed. I hoped like hell it was still there.
As I drove, I tried Bryce’s number again. Voicemail. “Bryce, it’s Hawk. Don’t shut me out. I have some new information that you will find very interesting. Call me.”
I tossed the phone as I turned onto the entrance for the highway. There could be a very good explanation for why Bryce wasn’t answering her phone. Yeah, like she had no intention of talking with me again. Sucking in my breath, I reminded myself that the one thing I’d always been good at were my instincts with people. I’d known when they were lying or if they’d been too afraid to ask for help.
I barreled down the highway, another memory surfacing, one I’d prefer to leave in the dark hallows of the past. A guttural sound rushed up from the tight confines of my throat as I thought about Snake. Ricardo Garcia, although the nickname suited him well. He’d been able to slither into any size hole or dark confines, his expertise in explosives making him invaluable. Damn, he was good at what he did. He’d been two years younger than the rest of us, a kid hell bent on trailing behind the posse, no matter the kind of trouble we might get him into. I’d been the only one to give him the time of day. I’d also been a bad influence on him, even introducing the guy to smoking weed.
I laughed as I shifted past several of the slower moving vehicles. Now, I couldn’t fathom smoking a joint.
Hell, Snake had been a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet when he’d gone to boot camp, just a scared little kid in search of the same kind of answers the rest of us had been.
His superiors had said he’d never survive the first day.
But he had.
Others joked he’d run home to Mommy after a single week.
But he’d remained, even on top of the leader board on several of the tough physical tests he and his fellow recruits had been given.
By week four, he’d been given a small amount of respect for tolerating the extensive heat and excruciating pain he’d been forced to endure. I gripped the steering wheel hard, twisting my hands and I remembered seeing him for the first time after several months. He’d been almost unrecognizable from his weight gain and three additional inches in height.
When he’d been called to serve, he hadn’t hesitated. I glared into the rearview mirror, trying to expel my disturbing thoughts. This was the last thing I needed today. My mind was already muddled. Still, maybe part of my penance was remembering every detail about him.
The day he’d been assigned to my platoon years later, the man who’d already earned his moniker was entirely different. Dark and foreboding, whatever he’d seen in combat experience he hadn’t been forthcoming with. Then again, none of us wanted to talk about our wretched experiences, the darkness surrounding our very souls.
I noticed a sign for the exit and moved into the right lane. I had to find a way to fight the demons that remained lurking inside or I’d be useless in attempting to help the beautiful woman who’d touched my heart.
I was surp
rised that after all these years Razzies still existed. It had been the bar I’d retreated to the day before I’d left for boot camp. I’d been the one to leave for the service last, fighting my way through two years of college while working on my father’s ranch. I’d barely hit twenty-one, but I was determined to make a damn difference.
Walking inside the aging joint brought back even more memories. None of them were the kind I wanted to remember, my father hunting me down, expressing his anger once again at the fact I was leaving town. Then there’d been my brother remaining in the car like the dutiful son, watching as my father issued the only punch in the face he’d ever given me.
As I searched the scraggly bunch at the bar, I had to smile. Everything appeared exactly the same after all these years. The one good thing about the location was that I doubted it was frequented by anyone who might be on the suspect list.
I finally noticed Becca sitting on the edge of a chair, her body pensive as she glared at one of the old televisions hanging on the wall. In front of her was a glass of wine and what I knew had to be bourbon. She remembered. Her body stiffened more when I approached, her entire face as tense as her body language. At least she offered a smile.
“Jake,” she said half under her breath. “It’s good to see you.”
The awkwardness between us was just as I’d expected, especially since I hadn’t said goodbye before leaving. “You look amazing.” I eased the folded towel containing the shard of glass onto the table and her eyes were immediately drawn to it.
She licked her lips then looked away, no longer the demure young woman I’d known before. Her suit was expensive, her long blonde hair woven tightly into a bun. Even her manicure screamed of power and wealth, although I figured she was dressing the part for her job. “You called me sounding desperate. What’s going on with Bryce?” She tentatively took a sip of wine, wincing afterwards.
The way she issued the words meant she already knew that Bryce and I were close. At least that saved a part of my explanation. I also suspected given her amount of tension that she had a general idea why I’d called her. I eased onto the chair opposite her, first scanning the room to make certain I didn’t recognize anyone. As if I could after all these years.
