by Piper Stone
Garcia grabbed two coffee mugs and cream before answering. “Things are weird, and she didn’t want to talk about herself or her past. I think she’s mixed up with the mob or some other organization. Her life is in danger.”
“What?” Coughing, Stoker slapped his hand against his chest. “You’re serious.”
“I am, and I think this fucking attorney she knows is a catalyst somehow.”
“Okay. Did Laney tell you all of this?”
“Some. She’s afraid. She’s been running for years. I don’t know how to help her.”
“Uh-oh. You know how to pick them, buddy. What are you planning on doing?” Stoker grabbed the cream from his hand.
“Find this attorney. Feel this guy out and find out if she has a reason to be frightened.”
“Don’t meddle. Tell her to go to the police. Worst thing you can do is get in her business.”
Garcia nodded as he thought about his options. She would not like him interfering, but he had to know in order to try and keep her safe. “She won’t tell anyone. I had to pry the information out of her, but I love her, dude. I can’t explain why or how it all happened so fast, but I want to protect her from anything and everything. You know?”
Stoker slapped his friend on the back. “I do understand, but it’s been what, a couple of days? You have to trust her enough to tell you what’s going on. If what you say is true, she’s no doubt unsure of you and your intentions as well. Think of this from her point of view.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He poured coffee for them both then walked toward the front window. “I just see myself with her.”
“Things have a way of working out, if you don’t push like a bull in a china shop.”
Garcia had to admit, Stoker could have a level head. His thoughts shifted to the recent fires. “I rode out to the Hatcher place this morning. Just wanted to see if I could find anything. What he said to us was troubling.”
“Did you ever stop to think he could have been out of it?” Stoker asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t think so. You saw his face. I just think the fire might have been purposely set. Why, I don’t know other than the captain mentioned some family issues.”
“I know that sounds ominous, but you were there with the fire. No one ran away from the scene and there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.” Stoker half laughed. “And you’re not buying a word I’m saying. What did you find? Anything?”
“Well, I was shot at by a trucker who didn’t want me there.”
“What the hell?” Stoker exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
“They either weren’t very good shots or were only trying to give off a warning shot. Either way, pissed me off.” Garcia gave him a look.
Stoker flanked his side. “That does change things a bit. You gonna tell the sheriff?”
“Not yet. Want to do some snooping.” Garcia sipped his coffee, his thoughts drifting back to Laney. She hadn’t called. She hadn’t tried to get in touch in any manner.
“Whatever you think this is, you need to tell someone who can actually do something about it.”
“Maybe. I know the two deputies on the case. They didn’t want to let me in on any details.”
“That’s because they’re doing their jobs just like you need to do yours,” Stoker reminded. He took a gulp of coffee then placed the cup down on the counter.
“What do you make of this?” Garcia pulled out his phone, showing his buddy the picture of the kerosene heater.
Stoker let out a long breath. “Okay, I know exactly what you’re going to say. Why is the wall standing? Why isn’t the heater burned to a crisp? Right?”
He could only nod.
“You’ve been around fires for years. You’ve seen them almost out then kick up again in another location. You’ve been around accelerant that created a massive blaze, destroying everything else but a three-foot area around the start of the fire. You know what I’m saying.”
“Yeah, I do. The heater could have started the fire.”
“Exactly, so leave it alone. You got bigger things to worry about,” Stoker said as he winked. “I gotta get back. You coming?”
Garcia shook his head. “I want to check on Laney, make certain she’s okay. Then I may stop by the hospital and talk to Mr. Hatcher. I know he has some family issues, but those assholes meant business.”
“You aren’t going to let this go. Are you?” Stoker groaned. “Don’t do anything stupid, my friend. Maybe they thought you were trespassing, which, by the way, you were.”
“Yeah, I get it. Just have a bad feeling about this.”
“Right now, you’re questioning everything.” Stoker walked toward the door. “So, you know, the service for Jimmy Martin is going to be on Wednesday. You will be there.”
He gave Stoker a hard look before softening his expression. “Of course. Tell Jessica hello for me.”
He placed his hand on the doorknob then cocked his head. “You asked me once why I became a smokejumper. I was only partially honest with you, at least about the last time.”
Narrowing his eyes, Garcia walked into the living room. “Okay.”
“Everything I said was true, but the reason this last time didn’t have anything to do with you nagging me to death.” His grin quickly faded. “I guess I was terrified that if I didn’t face my fears, I’d fall into a deep depression that I’d never come out of. You have no idea how many times I thought about suicide.”
This wasn’t news, but the admittance meant Stoker was finally healing. “I know. I could tell how close to the edge you were.”
Stoker curled his lip. “You knew me at times better than Cooper did. I could see myself as Cooper, the anger consuming me. Jumping has helped ease the fears. Jessica took away the pain. Whatever is keeping you awake at night is your crossroads. This is the point where you make a decision for you and not because of your father, or your friends or what your lover suggests or hopes that you’ll do. This is for you. You’re a damn good smokejumper and I’m proud to serve alongside of you, but if you choose to leave, set up an auto mechanic’s shop, I’ll still be your friend.”
He could see such concern in his friend’s eyes. “I don’t think there’s a chance in hell that’s going to happen since I can only change a tire, maybe the oil.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are and I appreciate it. Look, you still buddy, buddy with the fire investigator?”
“I don’t know about buddy, buddy but Frederick and I talk, grab a beer occasionally,” Stoker said. “You want me to ask him about the fires. Don’t you?”
“Will ya?”
Stoker lifted a single eyebrow. “Fine, email me the pictures as well. He might as well have the full story. But you’re going to owe me. There’s this wedding I’m planning in like two weeks.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. I mean, I’m happy to help.” Garcia walked to the door, a teasing grin on his face. “Tell the captain I’ll give him a call in a couple days.”
“Uh-huh. You don’t then I send Riker and Landen after you.”
He held up his hand, feigning fear. “Please, God, no!”
“Landen knows some girls down at the county administrator’s office. I’ll get him to dig up the records on Hatcher’s place. See if anyone else stands to gain insurance money.”
“I appreciate it.”
Stoker opened the door. “Oh, and one more thing. I hear there’s an open portion of the meeting on Tuesday in front of the mayor and the city council. They take comments from the audience. I can only imagine what a smart, sophisticated and intelligent smokejumper’s words might mean.”
“Well, you’re going to be pressed to find one of those.” Garcia grinned.
“Hard ass.”
When Garcia closed the door, he heard his phone. Grabbing it on the third ring, he grinned from ear to ear. “How are you today, beautiful?”
“Tired. Some sexy man kept me awake until all hours,” Laney cooed.
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Relief rushed through him hearing her voice and the peaceful tone. “No more strange phone calls?”
“Nothing. Everything was quiet. I honestly think I’m just jumping to conclusions. Nothing more. Seeing spooky shadows is going to be next.”
Why was she hiding more of the story? “How about dinner tonight? I can come pick you up. You can meet Beauty.”
“Garcia, that sounds wonderful, but I actually have some work to do before class tomorrow. You know, I do work,” she laughed, the lilt easy going.
Whatever had changed overnight, he remained concerned. At least he could spend time finding out as much information about Troy Bruester as possible. “I understand. Tomorrow?”
“Maybe. Let me see how school goes tomorrow. Okay?”
“Hmmm… You’re not blowing me off, are you? I don’t take being turned down well.”
“I just bet you don’t,” Laney cooed. “Not at all. In fact, I have a few sexy things I’d like to do to you.”
His cock ached just hearing her talk. “Call me later?”
“I will. Have a great day. And Garcia?”
“What, sexy?”
“I want you to know that you’re an incredible man. I’m so happy I met you.”
When Garcia ended the call, the same nagging feeling remained in the pit of his stomach.
She was saying goodbye.
Chapter 10
Troy walked to the window of his office, glaring out at the ugly day. Clouds swirled as the wind whipped, pinging against the side of the building. He could feel the intense chill even through the tempered glass. He glared at the empty parking lot, the rustic buildings flanking the streets. He’d left the swank offices of Miami Beach for a direct view into the cluttered backyard of some residence. A bitter laugh refused to be denied. What a life. However, the environment was much better for Jamie. Thankfully, his boy had thrived after the move. Lamenting over the fact he was lucky to have a job, let alone a license to practice law wasn’t doing him any good. He still had bills to pay. Lots of them.
He’d spent the better part of Saturday night after the dinner working to get his client out on bail, the worthless piece of shit. The asshole was guilty as charged and defending him on any level seemed ridiculous, but the man was wealthy, influential and had opened a satellite office on Troy’s suggestion. All the way from Miami. The dinner had been as expected, a floorshow as well as a direct warning. There had also been a veiled yet concentrated effort to help him understand the basics of what he’d gotten himself into.
You bet he was in way over his head.
He checked his watch. Damn Sunday and he was working instead of home with Jaime. The kid was so grown up. He never complained. He understood every missed school event and dinner. He’d made a promise to Jaime after moving here that things would be different. Then all hell seemed to have broken lose.
The manila file on his desk drew his attention. He’d been lured into taking the case, for extra money and no other reason. Now? He could no longer look at himself in the mirror. How could he? He felt powerless, held prisoner to an organization that held all the cards. An intense shiver ran down his spine. The dinner meeting had been called at a last minute’s notice. The two men had flown in from Miami. And why? To strong arm him. At least that’s what the very polished tactics had seemed like. That and a huge check. Yeah, his client was trying to go legit. Right.
Huffing, he walked to the file, opening the flap. You bet the man in question was dirty. Dirty as they came. He didn’t have to look under the rocks but so much to see the scum there. His eyes darted to the check. One hundred thousand dollars to do what? Keep working? Keep quiet? Hell, he didn’t know any longer. He picked up the check, eyeing the dollar amount. He could do a hell of a lot with this kind of money, but what he was going to have to do was bordering on unethical. That wasn’t a question. Their business ethics had changed over the years and he’d managed to slip slide his way along with them. Why lie to himself any longer? The money, clout and expensive toys had allowed him to look the other way. No wonder his wife had gotten sick. No, he couldn’t think this way. She was dead now, unable to see his demise, but she would have left him if her life hadn’t ended so tragically.
He’d sold his soul once, years before. He didn’t want to do it again, not for anyone and especially not for money. The man was out of jail awaiting trial, that wouldn’t be scheduled for months. He had a sinking suspicion the man would never see the inside of a courtroom. Too many powerful friends. Maybe things could change, start over again. He desperately wanted to have a personal life.
That wasn’t going to happen. His acceptance of the check was blood money. The required favor, he had no doubt, would come when he least expected it. He grabbed the check, folding it into thirds and shoving it into his suit jacket. The rest was going to have to wait. He wanted nothing more than to go home. He’d handled the required calls, filed paperwork as demanded.
The moment he turned out the overhead light, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen, frowning. “Fuck this shit.” He held the piece to his head after the third ring. “Troy Bruester.”
“Troy. I’m glad I caught you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
He exhaled and wiped his mouth. “No, sir. Of course not. Just finishing up on the paperwork you asked me to do.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. I need a favor.”
And so, it begins…
Laney stood in front of the mirror, the same mirror she’d been fucked in front of, and groaned. The way he’d cupped her breast, squeezing, the feel of his breath on her naked skin continued to make her tingle. Holding her breath, she dropped her head, grinding her hips back and forth. Just the thought of Garcia made her wet, longing to have his cock buried deep inside. She brushed the tips of her fingers back and forth across her breasts until her nipples became rock hard. Then the wretchedness of her life cut short the delicious fantasy, forcing her to open her eyes.
“You’re a coward.” The words were spat, leaving saliva on the mirror. Seeing the boxes on her bed, already half full confirmed the fact. She was running. Again. Why? Because of some unknown phone calls and a glance at two men, who kinda sorta looked like two men she’d seen once or twice years before. She’d been a terrified little girl then. How could she remember anything? “Fuck.” This wasn’t any kind of life to live.
She could almost see Garcia’s eager face, the way he looked at her in the warm glow. She’d never seen anyone hunger the way he did. For her. He was so open, so honest. All she did was tell lies. Lies! She gulped air and glanced over at Topper. “Don’t worry. You’re coming with me.” But where exactly was she going and in the middle of the school year? Jerking open the last dresser drawer, she grabbed a handful of clothes, balling them up and tossing them into one of the boxes. She was going to leave with nothing more than she’d arrived with. Useless crap.
Defeated. She was nothing but defeated. Turning around, she slapped her hand against the dresser as tears streamed down her cheeks. “No. I don’t want this any longer.” Slumping down, she wrapped her arms around Topper’s neck, burying her face into his fur. “I don’t want to leave. This is my home. I want to be with him. God, what am I saying?”
Topper’s tail wagged back and forth as she clung to him. He gave a gentle woof, the sound more comforting than he could know.
Laughing, she wiped her eyes. She could leave and possibly go through this again or stay and fight. Fight what? Demons? Her thoughts drifted, thinking about Garcia’s request. Call her contact. What could it hurt? If the man knew anything at all, that would help her make her decision. She debated then knew it was the smart thing to do.
She kissed Topper on top of the head then went into the bathroom, opening the linen closet door. The hidden compartment was still intact, no tampering by some boogeyman. The flap opened easily, and she peered inside the darkened hole. She hadn’t looked at the small box, the one holding bits from her real identity in at least a year. The m
etal felt cool in her hands and she ran her fingers across the top before lifting the lid. The hinges creaked, and she peered inside, half expecting everything to be gone. Everything was exactly as she’d left it. Very carefully, she placed the box on the counter and pulled out her driver’s license. She looked so much different than before. Age had filled out her cheeks and she’d grown another two inches. Her hair was much lighter than the raven haired, freckle faced girl in the picture.
Laney held up the picture as she stared wide eyed into the mirror. The new look suited her. She was a grown woman after all with an amazing career she loved and a… boyfriend. She had an actual boyfriend. She held the license in place and smiled. Her eyes were also different, so haunted, tortured from denial and secrets, lies and living on the run.
More convinced than ever, she dug through the box until she found the detective’s phone number. The crinkled piece of paper could hold a number for anything, anywhere. The kind detective had risked his career in order to help her in a most unorthodox manner.
She exhaled and pulled her phone from her pocket. With shaking fingers, she dialed the number.
“Leave a message.” The voice mail was short, but active.
“This is Laney Cavanaugh. I have some information you might find helpful,” she stated with defiance in her voice. “Please call me back.” If he was still on the police force, he’d grab the number and call her. If not? She’d know within twelve hours. Until then? She’d sit tight.
Hey beautiful. How are you?
The text made her jump. Then she smiled. Garcia. For whatever reason, he was hooked. Then again, so was she. She allowed her finger to hover before answering.
Missing you
A tentative smile crossed her face and she held the phone to her chest as she walked out of her room. At least she could be hopeful for now.
