Forged (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 3)

by Piper Stone

  “Well, it would have had to be placed just outside the house for it to create this kind of damage.”

  “What about inside?”

  Antonio shrugged. “That would mean someone would have had to get inside.”

  “What if they were allowed inside?”

  “You’re thinking Mr. Hatcher set this up?”

  Garcia exhaled and walked closer. “Only thing that makes sense at this point. We know someone purchased a huge insurance policy covering both locations and given the information wasn’t easy for Landen to find…”

  “Mr. Hatcher didn’t want anyone knowing. Makes sense. Let’s dig through the rubble.”

  He hung back as Antonio walked over debris and further into the remains of the house. The gray afternoon held ominous looking clouds, as if a blizzard was rolling in. His legs were almost numb but more from apprehension than anything. Laney continued to hold something back from him. He would bet on it.

  As both men began searching, flipping over charred pieces of wood and appliances, the snow began to fall rapidly.

  “This shit is going to be completely covered within an hour at this rate,” Antonio huffed.

  “Keep looking. I just know we’re going to find something.” Garcia yanked away the remnants of the heater and realized the portion he’d taken a picture of had disappeared. “Look at this.”

  He moved closer, kneeling into the snow. “Interesting.”

  “Look at the pictures. The bastards took evidence.”

  Antonio sighed. “If they were scared away, there could be more. Keep looking.”

  Garcia heard his phone ring and grunted as he grabbed it from his pocket. The number didn’t look familiar. “Garcia Puevos.”

  “Mr. Puevos, this is Richard Walker.”

  “I’m sorry, and you are?”

  “A reporter with the Miami Herald. You emailed me a couple days ago.”

  “Oh, yes. I was checking on a story you’d written I guess four years or so ago.” Garcia walked away from the area.

  “Well, the story sparked a lot of interest years ago. I must admit, I’m surprised I’m hearing about it now. Although there are some additional rumors about Mr. Scavuli that I plan on following up.”

  The name stuck in his gut, forcing his heart to beat. “Tony Scavuli?”

  “Yes, I assumed that’s why you were calling. He was supposed to have gone to prison, but the charges were dropped. Of course, I have my suspicions why. No one around to give any details from recent events or those in the past.” Richard sighed.

  Hair stood on the back of Garcia’s neck. Witnesses were being killed. Dear God, she had a reason to be afraid. “Was there a young girl a few years ago who testified against him? The one from your report that was mentioned in passing.”

  “Yes. I can’t remember her name, but she was killed in a horrific fire. Damn shame.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  Richard hesitated. “I’m not certain what you’re looking for but Mr. Scavuli no longer lives in Miami. He’s moved out west. Montana from what I hear.”

  Garcia almost dropped the phone. “Thank you for your information.” When he ended the call, he blinked several times, trying to focus as he panted. His hand shaking, he dialed her number. It went straight to voice mail. “Antonio. We have to go.”

  “I’ve found something,” Antonio called.

  “We have to go now!”

  “What the fuck is wrong? I found the detonator. You were right.” Antonio stood and walked toward him. “Jesus Christ, you look like shit. What’s going on?”

  He could see what looked like a black box in his buddy’s hand. “We have to get to Laney. Now. She’s in danger.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “No time to explain. Get ready to call that into Carter.” He trotted toward the truck.

  “There’s a damn, blue truck coming. I suggest we haul ass.”

  Garcia waited, squinting until he could make out the truck. “Same asshole who shot at me before.”

  “Fuck. And you didn’t call the sheriff?”

  “I didn’t think he’d believe me.” They both jumped into the truck and Garcia just started the engine when the other truck roared up on them.

  “Get the hell out of here.”

  “See if you can get the plate.” In the rearview mirror, he could see two people in the cab and one had a shotgun in his hand. “Fuck!”

  Bam!

  “Shit. They are shooting at us,” Antonio huffed and jerked around to look out the back window.

  “No doubt making another attempt to grab the evidence. My guess is the heat is on them. Stay low. There’s a back way out of here, but it’s a bumpy ride.”

  Antonio looked at the piece. “Sophisticated piece. Not some shit you put together out of crap you have lying around.”

  Ping!

  “Damn it! They’re getting closer.” Garcia floored the accelerator, the truck skidding on a patch of snow as he tried to round a corner.

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  “Trust me.”

  Ping! Bap!

  “Okay, that one hit.” Antonio jerked out his phone. “Just keep us alive.”

  Garcia drove in and out of the trees, weaving as the tires tried to grip against the snow. He darted his eyes back and forth. If he could get to the secondary road, he might be able to lose them. Might.

  “Carter, it’s Antonio. I have some evidence you’re going to want for the Hatcher case, plus we need some back up. We’re being shot at.”

  Garcia came to a clearing, shocked the other truck was right behind them. He turned and hit the other road, hissing when he noticed a group of rocks had fallen across the entire area. “Hold on.”

  “Yeah. We’re at the damn Hatcher place. Carter? You there? Goddamn it. Lost the reception.”

  Ping! Wham!

  Crack!

  “That one went through the window. Are you okay?” Antonio asked.

  “Fine.” He gritted his teeth as he drove over the rocks, praying to God the tires wouldn’t blow. When they were successfully on the other side, he glanced into the rearview mirror. “I don’t see them.”

  “They could be coming around the other way.”

  “That’s possible.” Garcia held his breath as he half skidded down the slope, finally moving sideways and precariously close to a drop off.

  “Fuck.” Antonio gripped the dashboard.

  They continued the slide, time standing in slow motion, until Garcia managed to jerk the wheel, throwing them in the other direction. He’d eased off the gas and as the truck finally righted, slowing down, he breathed a sigh of relief. When they were at the end of the road, he stopped and took a breath. “God. We have to get to my place.”

  “What happened with this girlfriend of yours?”

  “She’s been stalked for years by some asshole in organized crime. I think they found her.”

  Antonio opened his mouth to retort and shrank back. “You need to get the sheriff involved.”

  “Not until I know she’s safe.” He made a turn and floored the engine, adrenaline rushing through every cell in his body. Please God. Let her be all right. I’ll do anything. I promise. He bit back a strangled sound, unsure if the words would fall on deaf ears.

  “Still no reception. The damn storm.”

  “Yeah.” He drove hard, pushing the truck until his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. Within minutes, they pulled up his driveway and he skidded to a stop. “She’s not here. Her car is gone.”

  “Take it easy. She might have gone with Shannon.”

  “No, I know something is wrong.” He tumbled out of the truck and in through the unlocked door. He stood still, panting as he scanned the perimeter. “Laney? Topper?” Rushing into the bedroom, he checked the bathroom then ran into the kitchen. A note was left on the counter, a script handwriting spelling out his name. Beside the note was her diary.

  Gutted, he grabb
ed the piece of paper, his fingers fumbling to open it. When he did, he fell against the counter.

  Garcia. I will forever love you. You opened my world.

  But this is for the best. I hope my diary gives you some comfort.

  Stay safe…

  Alexandra

  “Fuck!” Alexandra. The name rolled off his tongue. She’d all but given up.

  “Is she here?” Antonio huffed.

  “She’s gone. Left. Which means she’s gone to her place to get her stuff. We might be able to catch her. Come on.” Before he got to his truck, his cell phone rang then stopped. Seconds later ringing again.

  At the same time, Antonio’s phone rang.

  Both men stopped cold.

  “Hello?” Garcia prayed she was calling from another phone. “Laney?”

  “It’s Shannon. I’ve been trying to call you,” Shannon exclaimed. “I’m calling about Laney. There’s something wrong. I know it in my gut. Who is chasing her?”

  “What did she say?” Garcia could see Antonio’s face. His call was all business.

  “She rambled, begging me to tell you that she loved you. She said someone from her past is stalking her?”

  “Shannon, listen to me. Get the sheriff out to 512 Pineview Lane. That’s her address. I’m on my way. I think she’s in grave danger.”

  “Shit. Okay. Okay. Good luck.”

  When he ended the call, Antonio stood right behind him. “We have to go.”

  “Yeah, we do but stop.”

  “Now!” Garcia moved away and toward the truck.

  Antonio jerked him back. “Listen to me. Did you just say 512 Pineview Lane?”

  “Yes. That’s where Laney rented a house. I need to get there.”

  He shook his head several times and kept his grip on Garcia’s arm. “Buddy, there’s been an explosion at that address.”

  “No!”

  Garcia had no idea how he’d driven or made it to her house. He only knew he had to save her, Laney, the love of his life.

  “Hold on. Just hold on,” Antonio said over and over again. “The fire department and the team are already there. The explosion was big enough that the woods behind her house were set on fire.”

  While he heard, knew what they were facing, he had no ability to respond. He pushed hard on the accelerator, flooring it up the road.

  “We’re almost there, Captain. ETA two minutes. Is the team engaged?” Antonio asked.

  “They’re all there. The wind is kicking up. We need all hands on deck.”

  Garcia held his breath and could see the smoke swirling, making visibility all but impossible. He pressed on until they faced a roadblock of two emergency vehicles blocking the road. He threw the gear into park, stopped the engine and within seconds was out the door, running toward the fire.

  “Wait!” Antonio called.

  “No,” he said to no one in particular. Tears and smoke forced him to continuously blink as he raced toward her house. Within seconds, he could see the flames ripping through the trees, creating a crown fire as embers bounced from one tree to another. The wind whipped as the snow continued to fall, but the icy conditions would only stall the firefighting team, hindering their movements.

  The captain raced forward, holding out his hands. “Son, Antonio told me. You can’t go in the house. Too dangerous.”

  Garcia pressed forward, pushing past. “I have to save her.” He could just make out her car. She’d come here to get her things. To run away. To leave town. To save herself. Fuck you, asshole! I’m going to kill you!

  “Puevos. Stop. Now!”

  Anguish tore through every cell, every muscle in his body. Garcia panted and hunched over. “You don’t understand.” The sirens continued to roar as other vehicles pulled up behind his truck, firefighters yanking down hoses.

  “Water. Where’s the water?” Garcia knew he was mumbling.

  “The river. Think, Garcia. Stay with me. Let the firemen do their jobs. Both you and Antonio are needed on the ridge. Come on. We have to work together,” Captain Phillips kept his voice soothing.

  Boom!

  “What the hell was that?” Antonio flanked Garcia’s side.

  “I don’t know but the team needs both of you. Take Garcia up to the ridge and take over, Antonio. I need your expertise. Sawyer is not fit for duty yet.” The captain gave him a nod.

  “Come on, Puevos. Get suited up,” Antonio directed.

  Garcia was aware he was being tugged, pulled to another location. He was numb, dead inside. “I can’t do this.”

  Antonio took both of his arms. “You can, and you will. Do you hear me? Laney will be fine. I have a good feeling. Come on. We’re a team and that includes you. Let’s get this done!”

  Every move perfunctory, he managed to exchange jackets and grab the ax and chainsaw. He followed Antonio up a pathway, cutting back underbrush and trees, abating the fuel before the fire leapt to the area. He was also moving further and further away from the firefighters and their desperate attempt to put out the fire at the house.

  He knew. His gut told him.

  She was already gone.

  Antonio moved ahead, taking powerful swings as the sound of timbers falling was all around them. “Come on. We are not breaking up the team. Get your ass in gear, Puevos.”

  Garcia reacted, his training kicking in and within minutes they could see members of the team just ahead.

  “Giovanni and Puevos are with the team.” Antonio called into the radio.

  “The fire is rolling to the west. Be careful given the wind shear,” the captain answered.

  Garcia swung his ax, every move pained as he used every ounce of his upper body strength to cut through limbs, fallen debris and twigs. He no longer cared about anything but the task at hand. No one else could be destroyed by this monster.

  “Hansen, Washington, report,” Antonio ordered.

  Stoker moved out of the trees, removing his helmet and wiping his eyes. “We’ve cut off a solid forty percent, but if this wind continues, we won’t be able to control it. The firefighters are able to control the backside.”

  Moose eased beside him, nodding to both men. “We’ve cut several scratch and control lines, but the very top of the ridge we haven’t been able to get to.”

  Garcia eyed the new man and could see nothing but respect in his eyes. “Then that’s where we need to go.”

  “Are you sure you can handle this?” Stoker asked, moving closer to his friend.

  “I have to. She could have run into the woods. I may still be able to save her.” Garcia gave a respectful nod and moved up the hill.

  “Let’s go. Move out and we stay in a line.” Antonio directed the group and they followed in a semi-circle, moving up the slope of the mountain.

  Sirens had all but stopped, leaving an eerie vacuum as the fire crackled through the pine trees, ripping through them and leaving a shower of embers mixing with the flying snow. They worked side by side, and as the light level dropped, leaving them in a sea of orange, they continued to work.

  Hours later, they heard the sound of the firefighters, the hiss as water poured over flames. They were close to coming together, putting a possible end to the horrific situation.

  Exhaustion poured through all of them, yet they worked as a team, nine men who were now working together.

  Garcia was devoid of emotion, moving on raw adrenaline, but he kept hope. He had to.

  After another series of cuts, moving debris and digging a final control line, they could all see progress.

  Antonio held out his arms, stopping the actions. He lowered down, placing his hands on his knees for several seconds.

  “We did good,” Steel said as he hunkered down on the ground. “You guys are dynamite.”

  “We are somethin’,” Landen said as he yanked off the scarf tied around his neck, wiping his face.

  Riker walked toward Moose, extending his hand. “Glad to have you.”

  Garcia watched as they shook hands then noticed o
ne of the firefighters approaching. He started to move forward when Stoker held him back.

  “Let Antonio do this.”

  Nodding, Garcia shifted and realized he had a sharp pain in his back. He grunted as he dropped to his knees, watching the face of the firefighter as he spoke with Antonio. Only once did the man look over. He struggled to take off his jacket, panting as the pain continued. He could see the look on Antonio’s face as he started his return, coming straight for him. “Stoker.”

  “It’s going to be okay, buddy. I swear to God.” Stoker moved beside him.

  Antonio took long strides, trampling down the snow, the crunch echoing in Garcia’s ears. He tossed the coat onto the ground and for a few precious seconds could see her face, her twinkling eyes and could even hear her laughter. He managed to stand as Antonio closed the distance.

  “Garcia. I talked with the fire chief. I, um…” Antonio faltered and looked away briefly. When he looked back, he had tears in his eyes. “They found a body.”

  “Jesus. Garcia, you’re bleeding.” Stoker opened his mouth and shifted backwards. “Buddy. What the hell happened to you?”

  “A body?” Garcia whispered hoarsely then fell to his knees.

  “Shit. We need to get him some help!”

  “Get him out of here now!”

  Garcia slumped over as the air around him became cold, so very cold. He was slipping, falling until he could no longer feel the pain.

  “We need an ambulance. Now!”

  “You’ve been reading my diary again, haven’t you?” Laney asked as she eased in front of the fire.

  “Just trying to learn more about you.” Garcia cupped her face, rubbing his thumb across her lips.

  “And what did you learn?”

  He leaned down, whispering in her ear, “That you truly belong to me.”

  She shivered and gripped his arm, moaning as he pressed his lips against hers.

  “Garcia. Wake up. Come on. Stay with me.”

  “I’m fine,” Garcia huffed, pulled out of the dream. “What the hell?”

  “Don’t try and move. You lost some blood and have a pretty good nick on your shoulder, but fortunately the bullet only grazed your shoulder. Damn lucky.” The voice was soft but aggressive.