Flaming Crimes

by Chrys Fey

  The car fishtailed around a corner, ignoring the stop sign, and pulled out in front of an oncoming car. A horn blared at them. She felt the car pick up speed, passing the legal speed limit.

  Beth knew her neighborhood well. Just up the road was a red light, and the road was congested with after-work traffic. She could never pass that light before it turned red, and she doubted they would be able to accomplish the same, not even going over the speed limit.

  She eyed the green light ahead. Her hands, slick with sweat, were flat against her stiff jeans. Her clothes had dried a while ago but were now rough against her skin. She dug her fingernails into the fabric, into her leg.

  The light turned yellow then red. Cars ahead were stopping, but the car she was in didn’t slow. Her throat tightened. Would Viper’s man swerve into the other lane to pass the light?

  Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brake, and she flew forward, hitting the back of the seat in front of her. She pushed off it and saw that Viper had also lost his balance. Before the car came to a full stop, she took the opportunity in front of her. In one movement, she flipped the lock and shoved open the door. Then she threw her body outside. Gravity seemed to hold her suspended in the air. But in the next heartbeat, her body punched the ground, taking the breath from her lungs and leaving her shocked. She came back to her senses as her body rolled over the grass. It was like a slap to the face to get her to breathe again. She gasped and sucked down as much oxygen as she could. When her body stopped bumping along the ground, she was lying on her back. She didn’t wait for a gunshot or a shout or squealing tires. She shot to her feet and bolted into the woods.

  Her sneakers sank into piles of pine needles and got tangled in vines, but she yanked them free and made her way through the low branches that slapped her head. The pine trees grew thick, so close to each other the brush around them were knotted up in each other, making it difficult for her to pass. She wrestled her way through the tangled mess to the other side. She stumbled down a ditch, crossed the road in three strides, and dove into the woods across the way.

  The sound of a car made its way to her through the trees and bushes. She stopped behind a tree and tried to figure out which way the car was headed, but she couldn’t pinpoint where it was. She peered around the tree she leaned against and checked over her shoulder, but she couldn’t see through the thickness of leaves.

  She stepped around the tree and pushed on to the other side. She still had to cross a main road and pass two blocks before she would reach her neighborhood.

  A few feet from the edge of the woods, she caught sight of the black car. She fell backward and landed on a pinecone. Biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out, she pried a crushed pinecone out from under her. Setting it aside, she peeked through the thick shrub hiding her from their eyes. The car cruised past and made a left turn; they were slowly heading back to her neighborhood. Well, she’d just have to follow them, out of their line of sight.

  She hurried out of the woods and made her way to the stop sign. Hands clutching the metal post of the stop sign, she edged closer, peering left and right for the black car. There was no sign of the car, so she sprinted across the main road to the street on the other side. She cut across someone’s lawn to the other side of their house. Crawling on all fours, she snuck past windows to get to the back. Once there, she inched her head around the corner to see the road. She flinched back when the black car idled by, heading in the direction she needed to go. The moment it was gone, she started to dash across the dry grass to the woods.

  She passed a birdbath and ducked under a bird house hanging low on a tree branch. At the halfway point, the sound of tires spinning on the asphalt pierced the air. Her feet became immobile. She was like a deer caught in headlights when the car reversed and screeched to a halt. The back window rolled down, and Viper leered at her. He pointed his gun through the opening. She uprooted her feet from the ground and took off as the gun popped.

  The woods were only a few paces away, but it seemed much farther. As she leapt over a log, an ant pile in front of her exploded. She dodged the gray sand flying out in all directions and hurried into the woods. Instead of running straight through it, she made a right and followed the woods to the next house over. Running backyard to backyard, she managed to lose the black car, or at least she thought she did.

  Breathless, she propped herself against a tool shed, her gaze ticked from left to right, on the lookout for Viper. After a few precious moments to catch her breath, she went on the run again. She stayed in the woods, hunkered behind a bush. Her ears strained for the sound of an engine until she was sure the coast was clear.

  The smoke was getting thicker and stronger the closer she got to home. She had three more streets to cross. Three. Just three.

  Glancing from side to side, she stepped out of the woods.

  “There she is!”

  She spun to see one of Viper’s men pointing at her. He had a gun in his hand and was running toward her. She twisted around. The second man was coming at her from the other end of the street. He, too, had a gun.

  She didn’t debate what to do. Surrendering was not an option, because right there, three streets away from the action, was far enough for them to shoot her dead. She launched forward. Gunshots sounded. Her chest tightened. A spark lit at her feet from a bullet hitting the asphalt. She didn’t falter. She forced her legs to pump faster, faster than her heartrate. In seconds, she was in the woods, shredding bushes with her body. The men’s shouts and gunshots were behind her.

  The only thought in her head was to escape. No prayers. No regrets. She just had the need to lose them and get to safety.

  She paused behind a tree. Bark ripped off it on both sides, inches from her shoulders and hips. Flinching, she dropped to her knees and crawled as low to the ground as she could to the closest cover. When she reached a shield of palmetto bushes taller than her, she sprang to her feet and ran through the bushes with inch-long teeth. Getting cut up was a risk she’d have to take. Cuts were preferable to gunshot wounds.

  The shouts and curses of the men trying to shove through the palmetto bushes echoed through the woods. She didn’t peek over her shoulder to see how close they were. Having run track, she knew that if runners peered over their shoulders at their competition, their pace slowed. She couldn’t afford to slow down. Not even a fraction.

  Her legs pumped. Her lungs burned. She lifted her elbows above the tops of the bushes as she barrowed through them. The thorns tugged at her shirt and poked through her jeans. The sting of them slicing into her flesh made her wince, but she forced down the pain, though it brought tears to her eyes.

  She stumbled out of the last bush onto asphalt and dashed across the street into another patch of woods. She couldn’t hear breaking branches behind her and took that for a good sign.

  Florida’s vegetation was slowing down her pursuers. Viper, however, was nowhere in sight. That wasn’t a good sign.

  She made it to the street in front of her house. Fire was burning half of the woods on the other side but had stopped at the dirt path the bulldozer had cleared. In the middle of the road, she peered over her shoulder. She couldn’t see the men yet, and she didn’t want to bring this danger straight to Donovan. Her searching eyes landed on the mountain of dirt, grass, bushes, and tree roots in the middle of the road. She hoped Florida’s vegetation would be on her side again as she climbed halfway up the pile. She sank onto her knees, heart pounding, and started to pull clumps of grass and palmetto branches over her body. Her gaze kept ticking toward the woods, afraid the men would emerge before she had a chance to completely conceal herself. Then she’d have nowhere to hide.

  A moment after she draped the fronds of palmetto branch over her head, one of the men trampled through the vines onto the street. Seconds later, he was followed by his partner. They stomped to the middle of the road.

  “Where’d da bitch go?”

  They circled around, scanning the area for her. One of them faced the m
ountain where she hid. He raised his gun and popped off three bullets along the length of it. The final one came close to Beth. She could hear it rip through branches.

  She held her body still, not wanting to give away her position. Her heart was thumping so violently she thought the nature covering her must be vibrating with every beat.

  “Hey!”

  The sound of Viper’s voice made Beth hold her breath. He sauntered out of the woods. While his friends appeared disheveled and pissed after chasing her, Viper looked cool and calm.

  “Da bitch got away,” one of the men said.

  “That’s fine,” Viper said. “She probably ran to her bitch ass husband. We’ll get ’er. We need to go back to the car, but we’ll come back.”

  From beneath the vegetation, Beth watched the three of them walk down the street and into the smoke. Wanting to run back to Donovan right then, she restrained the urge to make sure they were really gone. Her arms stung from the scratches and itched from the feel of grass and branches rubbing against her skin. She tried not to think about bugs or ants, but the need to escape was unbearable. She clenched all her muscles to stop herself from itching and counted to thirty. When she finished her countdown and couldn’t see or hear anyone in the vicinity, she burst out of the branches and leapt off the pile.

  Dirt fell off her in clumps. Pieces of grass were in her hair, and her clothing was stained, but she didn’t care. Now that she found her safety, she wanted Donovan.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Donovan ran to the end of the street. His heart pounded viciously against his chest, as if it wanted to break free and fly after the car that took Beth. He skid to a stop and looked left and right. With the thick smoke, he hadn’t seen which way the car had gone, and he couldn’t see taillights now. It was gone. His wife was gone.

  How can this be happening? He put his hands to his head, grasped his hair, and tugged. Feeling lost, he rotated in a circle. He couldn’t piece together a plan of action. My wife was kidnapped right in front of me. RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! His mind screamed that over and over again. He had been powerless to stop it. Where would they take her? What would they do to her? His stomach rolled. They’ll hurt her. They’ll kill her. He spun around and rushed toward a cop. “Sir.”

  The officer barely glanced at him. “Not now. I have my hands full.” He hustled away.

  Donovan stared after him. “But my wife was just kidnapped,” he shouted. The officer didn’t turn back. The roar of the fire and the peal of approaching sirens had swallowed his shout. His hands tightened into numb-knuckled fists. He put his fists against his temple and yelled to the heavens. “Damn it!” Helplessness latched onto his ankles and wrists, cementing him in place. He didn’t know what to do.

  He peered left and right. What could he do? His frantic gaze settled on his truck. In a few strides, he was at the door. He slammed the door shut, ready to search the streets for the damn car that harbored his wife. A snapshot of the car speeding off with Beth replayed in his mind.

  Before the smoke had swooped around it, enveloping it, he had seen the license plate. He repeated the figures as he wrenched the key in the ignition. The truck rumbled to life. His hand gripped the stick shift. He yanked it into drive and looked up. A car sped past him. In the rearview mirror, Donovan saw it come to a screeching halt in front of his house. The door opened, and Thorn leapt out.

  Donovan quickly shoved his truck back into park, ripped out the keys, and jumped out. “Thorn!”

  Thorn whipped around. “Donovan. Beth called me and said Viper was here.” He peered around. “Where is she?”

  “He took her. The son-of-a-bitch took her.”

  Thorn’s hand fell to his firearm. “Where?”

  “Just down the road. The car went this way, but I don’t know which way it turned.”

  “Did you get a good look at it?”

  “My wife is in that car. You bet I did.” He gave Thorn the license plate number with the make and model of the car; Thorn put out an APV on Viper and that car, so every officer on patrol would keep an eye out for it. After that, he called for backup. Thorn would have every local drug dealer’s house searched, and the two of them would search the streets themselves. Donovan trusted Thorn to do what was necessary to bring Beth home safely. Neither of them would let her come to harm. If she did, they’d make Viper pay.

  Two police cars rolled up, and Thorn issued orders to both teams. They drove off with their lights flashing. “Come on, Goldwyn. We’re going to hunt them down.”

  Donovan climbed into the passenger’s seat of Thorn’s unmarked car. He gripped the handle on the door. The thought of Beth in the hands of the snake who left a bloody knife on their porch sickened and enraged him. If he found her and found Viper with her, he couldn’t be sure he’d be able to stop himself from committing murder, which was why it was a good thing Thorn was with him.

  Thorn started the car and pulled out of the smoky road. Donovan gazed at the side mirror. All he could see behind them was swirling smoke and the red of firetrucks. Then someone burst out of the path the tractors had cleared, onto the road. The figure was slender and tall. Dark hair flew in the smoky breeze.

  “Stop. Stop!”

  Thorn punched the brake, and Donovan jumped out of the car. “Beth!”

  The figure turned. A gust of wind parted the smoke, revealing Beth. How? The one-worded question rang in Donovan’s head. How?

  She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet. His mouth ran kisses all over her face. The fear and anger he had dissipated like mist. Relief was sweet. His love for her made his eyes wet. He had come so close to losing her; Viper wouldn’t have made the mistakes his predecessors had made. He had a lot to learn from, a lot of time to craft his plan and make sure he carried it out to the end. But Donovan had Beth in his arms now. He framed her face with his hands. Thin sticks and dried leaves stuck out of her hair. Dirt darkened her forehead, cheeks, and arms.

  He picked the nature from her hair. “What happened?”

  “I got away,” she panted.

  Thorn joined them. “My God, Beth.” He hugged her. “Tell us everything.”

  Beth told them about throwing herself out of the car, running through the woods to dodge them, and barely missing bullets. “It was Viper and two other men.”

  “Damn, Beth, you were lucky to get away alive,” Thorn said.

  Beth looked at him. “I realize that.” Her voice was dry, bitter. She looked between them. “We need to find them.”

  Donovan usually took the stance that seeking out these men, and making themselves pawns, was a bad idea, but after all this, he was done. He’d take a stand with Beth and Thorn. “Three of them, three of us.”

  “You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” Thorn asked.

  “He’s thinking what we’re all thinking,” Beth corrected.

  “I don’t think they would’ve gone far,” Thorn said and looked at Beth. “I bet they’re searching for you. Let’s take a ride around your neighborhood and see if we can find them.”

  Beth turned toward their house. Donovan rubbed her arm. “The firefighters have it under control,” he said.

  She nodded. “I know. I love our home, but it means nothing if we’re not alive to live in it.”

  He kissed her on the forehead, not minding the taste of smoke and dirt. “Then let’s find these bastards.” He opened the front passenger door for her.

  She put her hand on the door and started to duck inside but stopped. She faced him. “We’re forgetting something.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Our guns.”

  They hurried into their house and to their bedroom. Donovan squatted in front of the safe in their closet. He punched in the code and opened the heavy door. He took out Beth’s gun and handed it to her. She checked that the magazine was full before slapping it into place. She clipped the holster to her belt, snatched a flannel shirt from a hanger, and knotted it around her waist to conceal it.
Donovan checked the ammo in his own gun. He had a full magazine and one bullet in the chamber. He clipped it to his belt but didn’t bother to hide it. As they rushed out, Donovan twisted the lock on the door handle and tugged the door shut behind him. Beth slid into the front seat, and he ducked into the back. In the middle, he positioned one foot on either side of the hump in the floor. Sitting forward, he looked through the windshield as Thorn started the car.

  “The two of you armed?”

  “Yes,” Beth and Donovan answered together.

  Thorn chuckled. “The two of you are armed without guns.” He drove the car through the firetrucks and made a right turn. As they passed streets, they craned their necks to look for the black car. “They last saw you in this area, so they probably figure you’re still around here hiding. They know you wouldn’t run past your house but would try to go back to it.”

  Donovan shook his head. “Viper has balls doing this with a slew of firefighters and cops so close.”

  Thorn nodded as they crawled past another street. “He knows they’re busy and a lot is happening. The fire is a good distraction.”

  Beth turned in her seat to look at the two of them. “He set this fire.”

  Thorn glanced at her. “What?”

  “You said it yourself. It’s a good distraction. Maybe he’s not the arsonist trying to burn Florida off the map, but he could be a copycat using this fire as a cover.”

  Thorn shook his head. “Copying isn’t Viper’s style.”

  “Maybe his boys were the ones going around lighting those other fires to make it look like random hits, not a planned attack,” Donovan offered.

  They were silent as they let that sink in. Thorn turned the car onto the main road. When he reached another street that lead to their neighborhood, he turned onto it.