by Piper Stone
Garcia tried to make sense of what he was hearing. He blinked several times then struggled to sit up. The ambulance back doors were open, and he could smell smoke. “How long have I been out?”
“Not long. Maybe ten minutes. You fought every step of the way.” The EMT laughed.
“You scared us there, buddy. Christ.” Stoker peered around the doors. “Lookin’ pretty rough.”
“What do you know?” He slid off the gurney and moved toward the exit.
“I wouldn’t go anywhere if I were you. You insisted that we stay here, but you really should go to the hospital.”
Stoker shook his head as he looked at the woman. “Don’t bother. Stubborn streak a mile wide.”
“I’m fine. I need my phone.” Garcia ambled off the rig, rubbing his shoulder as he tried to search for his truck.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Riker asked, moving in front of him.
“To get my damn phone. Get the hell out of my way.” Garcia pushed hard and could see his truck. The dream was so fresh. She was alive. He knew it. He made it to the truck before Stoker reached out, pushing his hand against the door. “What are you doing?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“What?”
“They found a body,” Stoker said as he lowered his eyes.
“I heard that. It’s not her. Now, let me into the damn truck or so help me God.”
“Who else could it be?”
He heard the concern as well as the uncertainty. “Move back. Please.”
Stoker exhaled but took several steps back. “I know it hurts.”
Grabbing his phone, Garcia pressed the button and glared at the blank screen. No calls. No voice mails. No texts.
Nothing.
Garcia held the phone to his head, wishing for a ring, any sound at all.
Antonio moved closer, walking with Landen. “How are you holding up?”
“Better than to be expected. Did Carter call you back?” Garcia asked.
“I just called him. I’m taking him the detonator after we leave here. He was very interested in what I had to say.” Antonio laughed. “You’re not a bad sleuth, even though you almost got both of us killed.”
“Do I want to know?” Landen asked.
“That information you found out about James Hatcher was useful. Looks like the man might be arrested.” Garcia tried to figure out if anyone would have picked her up. No, no one except… Several beads of sweat trickled down his neck.
Landen grinned. “I didn’t get to tell you the best part. His daughter is married to some dude from a mob family out of Miami, at least according to my very favorite administrator. She called to tell me the juicy gossip.”
Garcia took a step back, almost stumbling. “What?”
“That’s it. You’re going to the hospital,” Antonio demanded.
“Giovanni is right. Let’s get you out of here. There’s nothing more we can do,” Stoker walked closer.
“I’m not going anywhere. Laney could be missing. I’m going to call her.” And he did, hitting send and pacing, his mind reeling. When the phone actually rang, he was encouraged. When it went to voice mail after four rings, he knew for certain she had to be alive. “We have to find her.”
“Garcia. You need to listen to me.” Stoker nodded to the others, who backed away.
“Don’t handle me, Stoker. I know you mean well, but I’m going to find her. That is not her body in that house. It just isn’t.” He sucked in his breath as tears formed in his eyes. “I. Have. To. Try.”
Stoker shook his head. “Then come on. I’ll drive. You’re in no damn condition.”
“Thank you.” Garcia wiped away his tears, yet his eyes continued to burn. As he slid into the passenger seat, he caught another glimpse of the destroyed house, a shell of a car. What little she had was gone, much like her entire life.
Before they could take off, blue lights could be seen. Garcia looked in the side mirror. “No doubt the sheriff.” He eased out of the truck and waited as Sheriff Brennan rolled to a stop.
The sheriff cut the engine and climbed out, looking up toward the smoke and remaining fire. “Damn shame. We’ve had way too much of this shit.” He walked closer, nodding to several of the firefighters as they passed by. “Evening, fellas. Thought I’d kill two birds with one stone so to speak.”
Antonio nodded to Garcia as he approached. “The detonator?”
“If that’s the evidence you got, then I’ll have the last piece of the puzzle.” Sheriff Brennan looked from one to the other.
“Mind filling me in?” Captain Phillips joined the group.
“Seems like your boys have been doing some sleuthing again. If they keep this up, might run my department out of town.” The sheriff exhaled. “I arrested James Hatcher a couple hours ago. Mighty talkative after that. I pity the poor guy. I have to say I do. Seems he had a lot of pressure from some tough guy.”
“Tony Scavuli?’ Garcia asked, knowing the answer.
“Now, how the hell do you know that?” The sheriff huffed.
Garcia reached inside the truck, pulling out the crushed black box. “I just do. I hope this will help.”
“Detonator. Seen that in action before, but not for a long time,” Captain Phillips stated. “Notice the wiring here. That’s not used much any longer.”
“Was he also involved with some level of organized crime?” Garcia risked asking.
Everyone looked at him.
“Well, that could be an interesting part of the story and something I just can’t talk about at this point. Got a few things to check out. I can tell you that poor Mr. Hatcher was so in over his head with that bed and breakfast that he didn’t know what to do. He bought the thing for his daughter. Then she ran off to get married. You know how that goes.” The sheriff laughed. “Thank God, I don’t have a daughter.”
“Insurance money?” Garcia asked.
“Well, that’s what we thought. Made sense with the new policies and all, but he didn’t know they’d been purchased. There’s a lot more to come out about this, but at least he’s cooperating. Now, about this body up there. Young woman, so I hear?”
Garcia fell against the truck, his entire body shaking. “They haven’t identified the body.”
“I’m sorry, son. I’m just going by who rented the place,” Sheriff Brennan inched closer. “You knew the girl?”
“That’s for another time, Sheriff. She could be missing,” Stoker interjected. “We were going to look for her.”
“In this weather and after a fire of that magnitude? Highly unlikely.” Sheriff Brennan glanced at Garcia. “Something you need to tell me, son?”
Suddenly, a sound squawked from the sheriff’s car.
“Hold on a second. Been a damn ass busy night.” Huffing, the sheriff walked to his car, opened the door and grabbed his radio. “What’s up, Betty?”
“We have a report of shots fired down near Smith Street. Just on our side of the jurisdiction.”
“Shit. I’ll head that way,” the sheriff grumbled.
“Smith Street?” Garcia’s ears perked up.
“Why? Do you know that place?” Stoker asked, turning in his direction.
“Yeah. That’s the attorney Laney knows and a man who I think is involved.” Garcia opened the door of his truck.
“Now, son. Don’t go off half-cocked. Let me and my deputies check it out,” the sheriff cautioned.
Garcia climbed into the truck, slammed and locked the door, and started the engine.
“Wait!” The sheriff waved his arms.
But he refused to stop. Backing out, he maneuvered around the other vehicles until he hit the main road. He turned on the radio, switching to the channel most often used by the sheriff’s department, waiting for idle chatter. Then he pressed on the accelerator.
Within twenty minutes, he drove onto Smith Street. He headed into the parking lot of the attorney’s office and scanned the dimly lit area. There were
no vehicles, nothing to indicate anyone had been there, but there was a single light on the same floor he’d been to. Someone had been at the building late. He idled as he listened on the radio. There’d been one additional call issued from the station. A call for back-up. There was no one around, no flashing blue lights or even other passing vehicles. At only a little after four in the morning, the entire city remained quiet.
He pulled to the curb and looked both ways. The only thing he could do was drive the streets. Thirty minutes later and no additional chatter, anger boiled within him. He sat at a traffic light while it changed once, twice and a third time. This was a wild goose chase. The shots fired could be from any crime or domestic issue. He was grasping at straws.
With no other ideas and no sense of what else he could do, he made the turn for home. He called her twice, finally leaving a garbled message. By the time he turned into his driveway, light was just dawning over the horizon, giving a pink hue across the sky. He was also crying, allowing the tears to flow. He’d failed her. He’d failed himself.
What if…
The dark SUV in the driveway was partially obscured by the direction the driver had positioned the vehicle. He cut the lights immediately and pulled to a stop. Getting out slowly, he listened for any sounds before pulling a tire iron from behind the seat then his flashlight. When he approached the SUV, he switched on the light, becoming positive he’d seen it before. But where? The office of the attorney. The oversized wheels had caught his attention before.
He walked all the around the SUV, flashing the light onto the passenger seat. A cell phone was turned over on the floor. He tried the doors, but they were locked. The house remained dark and there were no outward signs he’d had a visitor, yet he was drawn to the forest on the side of his property.
Stopping, he listened again before moving through the trees, taking careful steps. He swung the light but could see nothing given the denseness of the forest. On edge, he turned in a full circle, taking another listen.
Then he heard a sound, a muffled noise almost like a—
Pop! Pop!
Gggrrr…
He’d know the sound of a gun anywhere. Taking off toward the noise, he jumped over areas of dense underbrush and fallen limbs until he heard a distinctive bark. Topper. He took giant leaps until he hit a small clearing, then he took off running. When he heard the bark again, the single woof was followed by a guttural growl, one full of anger as well as fear.
“Topper!” He risked the single call then waited, remaining low to the ground.
The shrill, female cry brought the hair up on the back of his neck. Laney. He ran toward the sound, fighting his way through the brush until he heard additional noises. A creature came bounding in his direction and he raised the iron just as he flashed the light. “Topper. Oh God. You’re alive.”
Topper jumped several times, drooling and barking.
“Stay here. Just stay here, boy.” He held the dog until he quieted and scanned the area, seeing nothing.
Topper whimpered but sat down, panting, the same whines creating an eerie sound.
Every step as careful as he could, Garcia made his way further, able to run only a small portion of the way.
Pop!
The shot was closer, too close. He rushed forward and suddenly noticed a flash. He stopped and looked, scanning the entire perimeter until he saw her. Laney. She was backing up, her hands out front, her expression full of terror.
“No!”
Shining the light, Garcia could see the barrel of a gun and just as Laney shifted, turning toward him and shielding her eyes, he rushed forward, charging toward her. “Laney!”
She opened her terror filled eyes wide and shook her head. “No!”
Bam!
Chapter 14
Laney smoothed down her suit jacket for the tenth time as she tried to wait. Her patience was running thin. She breathed out, reminding herself that the situation could have turned out so much differently. She’d been lucky. She was alive. The monster was dead. Dead! A shiver raced down her spine. Everything remained a blur in her mind, but she was learning to cope, to handle everything that had happened. Even the knowledge had sharp edges. A series of visions rushed into her mind.
“No!” she screamed as she twisted, limping from falling over a fallen tree. Panting, she scrambled to race into the darkness. There was no escape. The man who’d believed her dead had found her.
“This way,” Troy reached out, grabbing her by the arm. “Just stay behind me.”
“He’s got a gun.”
“He’ll have to take me down first.”
They ran, racing through the forest, Tony Scavuli on their heels.
Pop! Pop!
As if in slow motion, she heard the shots, could feel them whizzing by. Close. So close.
“You can’t get away from me this time!”
The deep baritone voice was followed by a laugh, one so evil the sound chilled her to the bone.
Garcia squeezed her hand. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
“Just remembering.” She would never forget Tony’s face, the vile look, crazed with the need for vengeance.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“You know I should and I want to. I feel very good about this. Troy actually saved my life, our lives in truth. He was only trying to protect me. He was in over his head.” She knew Troy could have lost his life in deciding to help her.
“But he was working for Tony Scavuli.”
She leaned against his shoulder. “He had no idea what that man was capable of.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you? He worked for him in Miami and again here. There is no way…” He didn’t finish. “No, we’ve talked about this. You’re right. He saved your life. You’re here with me because he refused to follow orders.”
She exhaled as she thought about the terrifying moments one last time. Troy had literally grabbed her, forcing both her and Topper out of the house. She’d fought him, punching him twice until he’d confessed that he’d been hired to burn down her property, with her inside. The chance of this occurring had been something only karma had a reason for. “Remember, his little boy was threatened. I can’t even imagine the horror.”
“The asshole is at least dead,” Garcia growled. “If Troy hadn’t shot him, I would have killed him myself.”
“I know you would have. You risked your life, too. Tony was aiming right at me. You’re my hero.”
“I’m nobody’s hero. Just a regular man.”
She rubbed her fingers across his cheek. “You are anything but. You are kind and strong, sweet and loving.”
Garcia leaned down, capturing her mouth and eased his arm around her, holding her head. The kiss was sweet, then a roar of passion, a need they both knew they could never deny.
Pushing back, she broke the intimate moment and nipped his lower lip. “I know what’s on your mind.”
“I bet you don’t.” Grinning, he shook his head. “My beautiful woman.”
“So possessive.”
“I am and proud of it.”
Laney adored the way he’d remained protective, standing by her side through every interrogation by the local sheriff’s office as well as the FBI. Every day seemed to melt into the next, leaving her exhausted. “When do you think Tony knew I was here?”
“You know the answer. He thought you were dead until that detective of yours allowed the information to slip. Mother fucking asshole. I hope he rots in jail.”
“I knew the moment I called the Miami Police Station what had happened. Detective Braxton was so different on the phone, almost gleeful. He hasn’t been on the force for over six months. He’d been searching for me for six months working for Tony. I can’t believe he’d do that.”
“Money is a huge lure for anyone, Laney.”
Laney snickered. “You’re not going to call me Alexandra?”
“Only when you’re bad,” he said, his tone of voice husky.
She shivered both from desire and the realization she could have lost him that wretched night. “At least Troy shot Tony.”
“Only because I threw you out of the way.”
She tipped her head, looking into his eyes. “Troy wasn’t going to shoot me. He had plenty of opportunities.”
“I know. I just wish he’d come to his senses earlier. By all rights he should leave town.”
“He has a little boy. He lives here. He has a good job, one I’m going to try and help him keep.”
“Not up to you, honey. You know that.”
“Maybe so, but he could have died as well. So could have his sister and that precious little boy.”
Garcia kissed the top of her head. “I know that. I do. I’m just angry.”
“A wonderful man once told me to let my past go. I’m planning on doing that. So, should you.”
“After today.” He got up from the bench and began pacing.
She eased the statement she’d written out of her purse, reading the passage again. This was the right thing to do.
“Ms. Cavanaugh? They’re ready for you.”
Holding her breath, she looked up at the officer and nodded.
Garcia moved closer, taking her hand as she stood. “Knock them dead.”
“Wait?”
“I’ll wait for you every day for the rest of my life.”
As Laney walked into the courtroom, all eyes were on her. She wasn’t merely trying to help Troy Bruester keep his career as well as his family, she was tying up loose ends, no longer afraid of her own shadow. She’d garnered the support of her mother and had talked to her dad. Even the nurse had said her father’s condition had improved in the two weeks since she’d been reborn.
However, Alexandra Christian died almost four years ago, and she was happy to keep it that way. Laney Cavanaugh was another woman altogether, a hell of a lot stronger and certainly much happier. She held her head high as she passed by Troy. The man was beaten, yet smiled when he saw her. The truth was, he’d been more of a protector than she could have imagined. The poor man had poured out his heart, begging forgiveness for falling into a scheme he’d had no way of understanding. Karma had certainly kicked them both in the teeth.
