Remember Tuesday Morning

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Remember Tuesday Morning Page 22

by Karen Kingsbury


  Two rings … three … four. The answering machine picked up. “This is Alex … leave a message.”

  Jamie wasn’t sure what to say, whether she should tell him about the fire, or about Holly, or neither. She hung up without saying anything and as she did, she prayed again, asking God to help the SWAT guys catch the arsonists and the firefighters stop the fire before houses or lives were in danger. But she also prayed that God would be with Alex Brady, who — if he knew about the fire — would’ve been the first on the scene.

  For better or worse.

  Alex had only been awake for a few minutes, but already he and Bo were in his Dodge, headed as fast as they could for the Oak Canyon Estates. Normally he didn’t sleep with the police scanner in his room, because he would never get any sleep. But tonight, with the winds stronger than they’d been yesterday, he’d had two choices. Stay parked where he could watch the traffic up to the estates, or sleep with the radio in his room.

  He missed the first few words of the call, but by the time the dispatcher got to the part about Oak Canyon Estates, Alex was up and getting dressed. He made the call to headquarters that he was putting in an overtime shift and responding to the possible fire at the estates. As part of the task force, that much would’ve been expected of him. He considered leaving Bo at home. His dog had worked a lot lately, and rest was important for any service animal.

  But Bo stayed at his side while he got dressed and as he headed for his truck, and when he reached for the door that led to the garage, Bo gave a single bark. His look was unmistakable. Don’t go without me. Alex gave his head a quick pat. “All right, boy. Come on.”

  They were backing out of the garage when he checked his iPhone and realized he’d missed a call from Jamie Michaels. She must’ve been calling about the fire. Either way he’d have to call her back later. He needed all his focus on the job ahead — whatever that job was.

  Dispatch had said something about a possible rescue, that the woman who had reported the situation at the estates was still in her office — an employee of the developer. Alex pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal. This was one time when he didn’t want his squad car. The Dodge would take him wherever he needed to go — including off-road. With all the warning he and the department had been given about this moment, Alex couldn’t live with himself if someone died.

  He was already on the freeway, minutes from the scene. The wind gusted against his truck, forcing him to steady the wheel. No traffic stood in the way, so he picked up speed again, blazing toward the exit.

  His thoughts swirled in his head, blurring together and rushing at him from all sides. The verse from Clay — There is a way that seems right to man, but in the end it leads only to death … and the other thing — how God didn’t intend for people to eliminate the evil in the world, but to surrender their lives to Him in order to combat the evil within themselves. In the dark of night, with the wind howling outside, the thoughts surrounded him and mixed with his father’s words, the ones captured in Jake’s journal, that there would be trouble in this world, but Jesus had overcome the world.

  All of it pressed in against his heart and made him glad he’d called his mom, because it was a step. If the first place where evil needed to be conquered was within, then he would check himself from time to time. As for his broken relationship with the Lord, that would have to wait. Right now there were more urgent matters at hand. He squinted at the freeway ahead and moved into the right lane. The exit was a mile up.

  Bo must’ve sensed the seriousness of the call, because he let out a sharp bark. Alex looked at him in the rearview mirror, the loyal eyes, the sense of high alert in the way he held himself. However lonely and driven Alex had become, at least he had Bo. The dog was his most loyal friend. He eased the Dodge onto the exit. Whatever happened tonight, Bo would be part of the solution. The way he always was.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Clay reached the steep dirt road leading up to Oak Canyon Estates just as the first glow of orange appeared from the top of the hill. Firefighters were on the way, but the role of the SWAT team was to check on reports of gunfire and catch whoever set the fires. He and a dozen other officers had been instructed to meet at the entrance to the estates and set up a roadblock. That way, if the arsonists hadn’t made their way down the drive, they’d be caught for sure. Clay and Joe could make decisions from there.

  Clay was first at the scene and needed to check out the guard station, then establish a roadblock. Why hadn’t the person manning the guard booth stopped the car, and what about the possible gunshots the caller had heard? Clay sped the fifty yards up the hill to the small station. As he came closer, his heartbeat quickened. His headlights illuminated a figure lying on the ground, and the gate arm that should’ve been down was shattered in pieces.

  As he pulled up, he saw that the prone figure was in uniform — the security guard. Clay slammed his car to a stop, drew his gun, and climbed out. There was no way of telling how dangerous the situation was, so he stayed low behind his car door. He heard the sound of sirens and the squeal of tires back at the bottom of the road.

  The car coming up next was Joe’s. He pulled up behind Clay’s car and hurried out the same way — gun drawn, low to the ground. “That a body?” he barked.

  “Yes. Cover me.” With Joe at his back, Clay rushed to the guard’s side. He was bleeding from his arm and his side, and Clay felt for a pulse. It was there — faint and fast, same as his breathing. “He’s alive,” Clay shouted over his shoulder. “Call for an ambulance.” He turned back to the guy. “Help’s on the way. Don’t give up on me now. Come on.”

  Joe made the call immediately. Wind whipped down the canyon and made it hard for Clay to keep his balance as he hovered over the man. He wanted to get up the hill and check it out, see if the arsonists were still there or if they’d already gone. And there was the woman — was she still trapped up in her office, too afraid to leave? The sirens grew louder still, and a series of squad cars sped onto the gravel road and up to the spot near the booth. As the others climbed out, Joe took charge so Clay could stay with the victim.

  “Set up a partial roadblock. The suspects could be coming down any time.” Joe had grabbed his bullhorn. “But leave room for the fire trucks …”

  The first fire trucks appeared and roared up the hill. They stopped just long enough for a couple of paramedics to jump off the rigs and hurry over to Clay. “We’ve got it. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes.”

  Clay took a last look at the man. There was a circle of red oozing from beneath his shoulder, so he uttered a silent prayer for the guard, for his family. Let him live, God … don’t let him die here on the roadway. Please, God … By now it seemed clear there were no suspects hiding around the booth, looking to ambush them. He ran back to his car and motioned to Joe. “I’m going up.”

  “Not by yourself.” They had to yell to be heard above the sound of sirens and vehicles and gusting wind.

  “It’ll be fine.” At SWAT scenes protocol was to stay in pairs, but this was different. “We don’t know if anyone’s even up there. But I want it clear before they start on the fire.”

  Joe hesitated, then nodded. “Hurry back.”

  “You got it.” Clay grabbed his radio and asked that firefighters wait halfway up the road so SWAT could clear the scene of any suspect danger. He was in his car and speeding up the gravel drive even while he was making the order. Word came back from the fire captain that they’d stay a hundred yards shy of the top of the hill until they received word. If the fire moved down into the canyon, they’d fight it from where they were situated.

  Clay sped up the hill to the top where the drive intersected the single paved road, then stopped and studied the scene. Three separate houses were fully involved. The lights were off at the model, but the woman who called could still be in there. Another problem became immediately evident. The house at the corner on the right was one of the structures on fire, and already the flames were dancing acros
s the backyard toward a section of the hilly road that Clay had just driven past.

  Suddenly, the wind gusted hard, and Clay looked over his shoulder, horrified. In as much time as it took him to breathe, the fire jumped the narrow roadway and lit the brush on the other side, completely blocking the road. There was no way down now, not until the firefighters knocked out the blaze behind him. Clay swallowed hard. God, this is bad … I need You. Please, God … show me what to do.

  He took hold of the radio again and reported what he’d seen. “I need a couple fire units on this thing right away. Clear the road and keep it open. The fire’s moving down and to the east, toward the guard booth. We’ve got three homes on fire, and hillsides catching in each area.” His pounding heart pushed him into crisis mode — the place where he could act and react best. He kept his voice clear and calm. “We’re gonna need a helicopter drop as fast as possible.”

  Once more he watched the flames behind him, and a realization hit him hard. The situation had become desperate, the blaze already a monster, pushing up toward the sky, roiling and billowing with the wind, consuming everything in its path. God, get me out of this, please … Jamie couldn’t stand it if …

  Clay considered the woman in the model home. For now the fires weren’t too close to the place where she must work. Clay was driving toward the model home when something caught his eye off to the left. He turned off his lights and turned slowly in that direction. Down a ways, between two homes, a car sat in the street. Near it, at least two people darted between the buildings. With the sound of the wind, they clearly didn’t hear him.

  His heart pounded, and he felt the danger rise around him. This was where he should’ve called for backup, but now that was impossible. The road up to the development was blocked by a wall of flames, so where did that leave him? He radioed to Joe and explained the situation. “There’s gotta be another way out, right?”

  “I’m on it. What about the woman?”

  “Still need to check on her, but she’s away from the fires for now. I might have the suspects in sight. I need to deal with them first.”

  Silence shouted across the other end of the radio lines, and Clay understood. With no real warning, Clay had gotten into a situation that no officer wanted to be in. “Michaels … watch yourself. We’re gonna get you out of there. Don’t be a hero.”

  “I won’t.” Again he thought about Jamie. “Radio the fire captain. Let me know about an alternate exit out of this place.”

  The roar of the fire was building around him. With every gust of wind, the burning homes sent a cascading wall of flames into the dry brush surrounding the development. Sprinklers had been activated, but they appeared to have no impact on the fire. The speed of the flames was horrifying, beyond anything Clay had seen before. But he could do nothing about the situation now, so he drove slowly down the road, past a burning house on the right, closer, closer, until he could see one of the men pouring something on a pile of towels near the base of another house.

  The arsonists weren’t finished yet; they were still setting fires. Didn’t they know the road was already blocked by flames? They were so zealous in their quest to destroy that they were putting their own lives in jeopardy, and they seemed oblivious to the fact.

  Clay radioed again, his mind long since made up. “I’ve got the suspects in sight. I’m moving in.” As he finished his sentence, there was an explosion from the other end of the street. Another house went up, and he saw a third figure dart across the road. This was it. If he didn’t take every move with the greatest care, he wouldn’t miss only his chance at the suspects.

  He would miss his chance at getting out of here alive.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Alex had just reached the base of the main drive up to Oak Canyon Estates when he heard that Clay was trapped at the top with as many as three suspects. He pictured CJ and Sierra and Jamie waiting at home, and he clenched his jaw. Nothing was going to happen to Clay Michaels. Not tonight. Not if he could help it. Alex saw the roadblock leading up to the estates and made the decision quickly. He sped past the turnoff and drove another half-mile to an unmarked road so narrow it could’ve passed for a trail.

  It was a fire road, one intended as alternate access to the hillsides in case firefighters needed another way up. For now, though, they would certainly be fighting the fire up along the main drive, which meant Alex could get his truck up the hill much faster this way. He would radio his whereabouts later.

  He reached the top in time to see four houses fully engulfed in fire. But there was something else. At the far end of the road, there was some kind of activity. One car, or maybe two. It was hard to tell in the wind and smoke that swirled across the paved road ahead. Alex flipped off his lights, slammed his truck into a lower gear, and four-wheeled from the fire road through some brush and between two unfinished houses. Once he touched asphalt, he raced down the street past the burning homes. He saw what he already knew — that the main road was on fire, cut off from emergency vehicles.

  Bo released a series of barks as he took in the scene, the flames and wind, the speed of Alex’s truck. “It’s okay, Bo … we’re almost there.”

  Ahead Alex saw what looked like Clay’s car, and beyond that another vehicle. Alex drew closer, and shock slammed into him when he saw what was unfolding up ahead. One of the suspects was holding Clay facedown against the hood of his car at what looked like gunpoint.

  Alex felt rage building, consuming him. This was the REA, setting fires and now threatening to take the life of his friend. He pulled off the road again and hid himself between two houses that weren’t burning. They hadn’t seen him; he was sure of it. The guy with the gun hadn’t looked up or signaled to anyone. With the wind and fire and sirens, the noise of his truck hadn’t been loud enough to catch their attention.

  When he was far enough between the two houses that he was sure they couldn’t see his truck, Alex slammed the gear into park, opened the back door for Bo, and told the dog to heel. Bo lifted his eyes to him, and his look seemed to say he wasn’t afraid. He would stay by Alex’s side whatever the call, whatever the danger. Alex patted Bo’s head. “Good boy, Bo … let’s get ‘em.”

  With his gun drawn, he slipped around the back of the house and made his way through the rear yards until he could slide around the corner of one of the houses and get a clear view. A second armed man ran up to the first. In the glow of streetlights, Alex recognized him. It was the bald guy — one of the two REA men with Owl that day at the park.

  Alex’s desperation grew, and he and Bo moved through the shadows toward Clay. He needed to catch them unaware, order them to freeze at the same time. That way he’d have the advantage and could take both guys out if he needed to before they could fire a shot at Clay.

  He flashed Bo an open hand with just his index finger pointing straight out. The sign for Bo to keep quiet, not to bark — no matter what. Clay was in imminent danger, without any time to spare. They weren’t going to kill him; Alex wouldn’t let it happen. He stayed low and ran as fast as he could until he was a few feet from the suspects. They still had their backs to him, their focus entirely on Clay.

  “Police!” he shouted loud enough to be heard above the sound of the wind and fire around them.

  For a few seconds, the two men froze. Now that Alex was closer he could see that one of the guys with Clay was Owl, and that he didn’t appear to be armed. It was the taller man who had the gun pressed to Clay’s back. Alex raised his voice again. “Get your hands up now, or I’ll release my dog.” He gave Bo a different signal, and the dog let out a series of barks and loud growling sounds.

  Owl’s hands came up, just as he turned and looked into Alex’s eyes. Clearly Owl recognized him, and he shouted at the bald guy, “He’s got a gun and a dog. Do what he says!”

  Instead, Owl’s accomplice fired wildly at Clay and, in the same motion, spun around and aimed his gun at Alex. It took just one bullet from Alex’s gun to level the suspect, knocking him to the grou
nd, motionless. Clay was writhing against the car, holding his shoulder. “I’m okay … it’s just my arm,” he shouted. Alex was about to signal Bo to watch Owl and the man on the ground so he could go to his friend, when there was a blur of movement behind him.

  Before he could cock his gun, Bo barked once and leaped back into the shadows at a man Alex hadn’t even seen, a man who had come up behind them unnoticed and now was just a few feet away. With a ferocious second bark, Bo knocked the third man to the grass, but as he did, the man fired once at Bo’s chest.

  “No!” Alex held up his gun, his knees weak. “No … Bo, come here!”

  Bo let out a sound Alex had never heard from his dog. The man’s gun flew from his hand as he and Bo fell to the ground. Alex was breathing hard, gasping. “Bo, come here, boy!”

  “He’s shot.” Clay’s voice rose above the noise. “Get the suspect’s gun.”

  Alex saw the weapon a few feet from him. He grabbed it and shoved it in his back pocket, his eyes never leaving those of his dog. Bo was lying limp across the suspect’s chest, his regal head looking back for Alex. In that split second, Alex saw in Bo’s eyes something he’d never seen before, something that told him the situation was terribly serious.

  Bo’s eyes were glazed with fear.

  “Hold on, Bo!”

  The suspect’s glasses were on the ground and he groped about, pushing Bo off him. Alex wanted to scream at him, ask him why he would set fire to houses and shoot at deputies under the guise of environmentalism. He aimed his gun at the man, but the suspect was no longer armed.

  “Freeze!” Alex was shaking, desperate to help Bo. It took every bit of restraint to keep from pulling the trigger, but the suspect did as he asked. He stopped and raised his hands slowly into the air.

 

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