Scorch (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 6)

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Scorch (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 6) Page 28

by Piper Stone


  “I should have known that bastard wasn’t interested in me.” Reese gripped the edge of the mantel then shot her head in their direction. “Then what does this have to do with Walker Tatum and Congressman Tatum?” She wasn’t buying all of the story. It was obvious the Feds were hiding a significant portion of information.

  “Maybe nothing.”

  She studied the way Agent Brennan answered. “Okay. Maybe nothing.”

  “Maybe more than you know,” Sawyer offered, a chuckle slipping from his mouth.

  “We are checking everything. We will need a formal statement from you Miss Winton as well as you Mr. Lincoln regarding conversations with Mr. Sampson and Mr. Gant.”

  “Of course, but not today.” Reese gave them a huge smile. “I have other things to do today like quit my job.”

  Agent Brennan nodded before getting to his feet. “Tomorrow will be fine. We’ll be expecting you.”

  “I know you will.” She wanted to lash out, to say so many nasty things but she knew they were trying to help.

  “Do you mind if I stick around for a few minutes?” Sheriff James asked, giving a look in the direction of the agents.

  “I’ll put on another pot of coffee,” Sawyer suggested.

  “I might need something stronger after this,” Boone said under his breath.

  The agents gave all of them one last look before letting themselves out.

  Reese groaned and slapped her hand on the mantel. “I can’t believe that Christopher was the one threatening me.”

  “Look.” Sheriff James walked closer. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I was with them when they served the warrants and a few very interesting items were found in Mr. Sampson’s things.”

  “What?” Reese was already tired of the entire situation.

  “I’m not trying to pry, Miss Winton but-” the sheriff started.

  “Call me Reese, please.”

  “Okay. Reese. I understand you were involved in a very disturbing case several years ago while you were in Atlanta.” Sheriff James gave her a waning smile.

  She glanced at Sawyer, hair standing up on the back of her neck. “I was. A serial murder case.” She hadn’t heard a thing from Allison and she was beginning to believe she never would. Not a soul involved in the case had remained living in Atlanta.

  “Very similar to that of Walker Tatum,” the sheriff continued.

  “What are you getting at, sheriff?” Sawyer interjected.

  “Mr. Sampson had the entire case file, including pictures of threatening notes. From what I’ve seen, these notes are very similar to the one you received.”

  Reese couldn’t stop shaking. “Yes. I hadn’t remembered how much in truth.”

  “There is no way to know who Mr. Sampson is working for, but from what I’ve been able to gather, you’ve been a target for at least six months. Does that make any sense?” The sheriff gave Sawyer a look.

  She caught the shared connection and had to fight to keep from crying. “Yes. We started a relationship then. I had no idea what he was involved in to any degree. None. God. I was such a damn fool.”

  Sawyer gathered her in his arms, bringing her to his chest. “You weren’t a fool. People like that are skilled at deceiving good people.”

  “He’s right, Reese. The entire Dreyfus family deceived a hell of a lot of people in town,” Boone groused.

  “What are you thinking, Sheriff?” Sawyer asked.

  “I don’t know exactly yet, but I’m doing my own digging and away from the Feds. They give me the creeps.” The sheriff offered a bright smile. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, but I feel certain Mr. Sampson knew what he was doing when he threatened you. I um…” The words trailed off.

  “What else?” Reese wiped tears from her eyes, sniffing and refusing to succumb to any additional bullshit. Then Christopher would have won.

  “I made some calls. I wanted to know details about the case you had to deal with. There is no chance that the men involved with the horrific crime had anything to do with threatening you. I just wanted you to know. When you left, there was still a man at large. I don’t know if you realized he was captured after killing several women in Baltimore.”

  Reese studied the sheriff’s eyes. Baltimore. The fucker had followed her. “I appreciate you telling me.” Feeling Sawyer’s warm hands wrapped around hers was comforting, but hearing the news was freeing. At least to a point. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” The sheriff turned toward Boone and Sawyer. “I’ll come by the hanger as soon as I know anything about Engine 12.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff. As you can imagine, we’ve all been through a hell of a lot.” Sawyer’s voice was filled with sadness.

  “I know. We all have, son.” Sheriff James moved toward the door. “By the way, glad to hear about your promotion. You’ll be a damn good man at the job. Gonna miss, old Scully but he needs to be by his wife’s side.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” Sawyer asked quietly.

  “Sure.”

  “Is Captain Phillips ill?”

  “Not for me to say, Sawyer.” The sheriff held a faraway look in his eyes.

  She tipped her head, looking at Sawyer. He remained riddled with guilt. The nightmare wasn’t over.

  “This isn’t acceptable,” Stoker snapped as he paced the hanger. “We need to be told something.”

  “You’re right. I’m not going to stand here like this,” Garcia added, his anger level increasing by the minute.

  Sawyer could tell the captain was beyond exasperated.

  “Let’s all calm down,” Captain Phillips said, a quietness in his voice that seemed unexpected.

  “Calm down? Some freak set off a bomb!” Riker snarled.

  “I know. And Fred is working on the case right now,” the captain offered before rubbing his eyes.

  Sawyer had never seen the man looking so damn tired. Although the sheriff didn’t confirm or deny anything about the captain’s condition, he knew both men were hiding something. Sighing, he tried to remain rational. There were too many unanswered questions. “Do we know anything else?”

  “Just that the men who were injured are on the critical list. The bomb was left but detonated from an offsite location. That’s all I’ve been told. Trust me, guys. I would tell you if I knew.”

  “Someone wanted those men and women to die.” Landen’s voice seemed to echo.

  “Seems like it.” The captain tried to smile. “Look, all we can do is wait at this point.”

  Hearing the door, they all turned around. As Investigator Nelson and Sheriff James walked in, grim looks on their faces, the team remained hushed.

  “Fred. Brennan. I’m damn glad to see you. I hope you can offer some level of explanation as to what happened,” Captain Phillips headed in their direction, shaking hands with both men.

  Fred glanced at the sheriff before clearing his throat. “As you well know, my investigation is ongoing, but I do have some preliminary results.”

  “And?” Stoker demanded.

  “Hold on, son. Just hold on.” Fred’s expression was stoic. “What we know at this point is that the bomb was the same type that exploded at Engine Company 6, but not the same type that was used at the arson fires in the city or at the school.”

  “Which means two different arsonists,” Sawyer said quietly.

  “Yeah. That’s what that means,” Fred said with no inflection in his voice.

  “What about this picture that you have?” Garcia asked, inching closer.

  The sheriff sighed. “We have a suspect in mind, but at this point we’re not able to confirm his location.”

  Sawyer swallowed hard and thought about Mike, the way he talked about the men and their benefits. “Will the firefighters and their families receive full benefits no matter what occurs at this point?”

  Every single jumper turned in his direction.

  Fred craned his neck, an odd look forming in his eyes. “Given this was an arson attempt, they will receive a
pension check that can’t be affected by any budget cuts. Why?”

  “Just asking,” Sawyer mumbled, his thoughts reeling. Mike was responsible for this. He knew in his heart.

  “Now, a question like that draws interest. Is there something you know, Lincoln?” Captain Phillips asked.

  “Just checking. Just the rumors floating around. I want to make certain the men and women are taken care of.” What in the hell was Sawyer supposed to say? Where would Mike have gone? He knew the man better than any of them. Mike couldn’t handle this kind of wretched deed. There was no way.

  Fred snuffed and looked away for a few seconds. “That doesn’t mean the pension will help with getting their jobs back. The building has been labeled a total loss and as such, there are no plans of rebuilding at this point, even with insurance money. That is totally off the record.”

  The information stung, hitting all of them hard.

  “Goddamn motherfucking assholes,” Stoker hissed.

  “They should rot in hell!” Garcia was shaking.

  “That’s not right,” Moose added, clenching his fists.

  “Let’s not let this get out of hand,” the captain instructed.

  “Bullshit, Captain! This is bullshit and you know it!” Riker’s voice boomed.

  Fred gave each man in the room a clear look in the eyes. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but neither the city, including the mayor or any of you have any jurisdiction in this matter. All we can do is hope that they recover and that we find the culprit who did this.”

  “Monster is more like it,” Steel said under his breath.

  Sawyer had an idea of where Mike would go. If he was right, he could only try and convince the man to turn himself in. If he was wrong, then there might be zero closure.

  “I’ll let you know when we find the suspect,” Sheriff James stated, his body language stilted.

  “Thanks for coming by,” Captain Phillips began.

  But Sawyer was already out the door. He raced to his truck, hearing Boone calling after him. This one he had to do alone. Very much alone.

  The drive took him almost forty-five minutes. By that point, the sun was setting. He gripped the steering wheel, taking the turns until he was outside of the city and in the mountains. Seeing the turn off, he slowed down then idled, trying to figure out if he even wanted to know the truth. He had to try, if for no other reason than to help his old friend. He counted to five and eased onto the gravel driveway. The area was far too similar to the location chosen almost eight years before. The private hell had been his own.

  While Mike never knew what had transpired after he’d left, the conversation they’d had about a peaceful location to go and think had been one they’d had more than once. This was the only place that seemed to matter to Mike. He pulled the truck into the small parking lot. The location was not a favorite of any tourists given its location and even the locals shied away given the steep cliffs and rushing water.

  For Mike, this was calming. He waited outside his truck for a solid five minutes before finding the courage to walk toward the forest. He knew the way and while the area had become more overgrown since the last time he’d been here, he had no trouble identifying the path. The moment he walked out from the trees and into the small clearing, he was forced to hold his breath.

  Mike was sitting on a rock, a bottle of liquor in his hand, a pistol by his feet. Sawyer stood watching him as the memories flooded in, the very day he’d almost taken his life. He’d been lost to the madness, the anger and pain and hadn’t been able to see a way out. A cold shiver raced down his spine. This was too damn close to the personal events of eight years ago. Taking a single step, a twig beneath his feet cracked.

  Only cocking his head, Mike took another swig out of the bottle. “I thought you might find me.”

  “I remembered how much you loved this place.”

  “I guess you did. Want a drink?” Mike asked, shifting the bottle from hand to hand.

  “Not right now.” Sawyer walked toward the drop off, peering over the side. The river was rushing by, dancing over rocks, the sound very peaceful.

  “I guess you want to know why I did it,” Mike half whispered after a few minutes.

  “I know why you did it, Mike. You care about the men in your unit.”

  “Yeah. Except I’m not a very good arsonist,” he laughed bitterly. “I heard two men might die.”

  “Maybe, but they’re in the hospital.” Sawyer’s hand was shaking, his heart racing. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “I didn’t want them to be hurt. Not really. Just enough they would receive their pensions and find a new life. I just…” Dropping his head, he started weeping.

  Sawyer eyed the gun, calculating the time it would take to grab it and run. Too much. “I know you didn’t want to hurt them. I know. There’s too much pain, Mike. Too much. You have to turn yourself in.”

  Snorting, he shook his head and took a huge gulp then wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “And then what? I’m labeled a freak. I can’t take any more pain, Sawyer. I can’t. I’ve lived my entire life with guilt. No more. I won’t do this any longer!” He grabbed the gun and dropped the bottle.

  Dear God. The man was close to the edge. He closed his eyes, clenching his fists. “You didn’t cause the rope to fail.”

  “What?”

  He turned to face his friend, nausea mixing with bile. “I replaced the rope. I grabbed the wrong one. The one we used couldn’t withstand the drop or the rough surface of the rocks. You didn’t cause anything that day. You weren’t responsible for her death. I was.” Seeing the look of surprise, he held his breath, praying this would be enough.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m to blame. Me. You were doing your job.”

  Mike smiled and stared out at the river. “Thank you for that.”

  “Do you know how long I’ve carried the guilt with me? I wanted to tell you and I was, but you disappeared. You left. I even tried to find you for a year at least.”

  Nodding over and over again, he wiped his eyes, the gun still in his hand. “Doesn’t matter. That’s just one aspect of a shitty life. I’m not a good man, but I tried to do something right for once and still, I failed. I fucking failed.”

  “But you cared.” He inched closer until Mike held out his hand, palm out. “I might have a broken leg, but I’m no fool. You’re not taking me back. I’m done, Sawyer. I’m done.”

  “You’re not done. You have people who care about you. You have me.” Sawyer heard the sound of his strangled voice and wanted to find the right words to say. Please God. Please.

  Mike seemed to study him for a few seconds. “You’re a good man. Heard about your promotion. I’m proud of you. From the day you set foot on the first airplane, I knew what you were made of. You’re a great guy.”

  “And so are you. Let’s go back together. Okay?” Tears slipped into his eyes. “You’re my friend and I’ll help you through this. Every step of the way.”

  He lowered his head, sobbing. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please tell them I’m sorry.”

  “You can tell them yourself. Okay? Come on. Let’s go home.” Sawyer kept the smile even as the tears flowed, and he was able to take another step closer. Just a few more inches.

  “You were my best friend. Never forget that. Okay?”

  As Mike raised his arm, the entire world stopped. Sawyer lunged forward, screaming. “No!”

  Boom!

  Chapter 16

  Two Weeks Later

  “We’re going to be late,” Reese chided him as she grabbed her boots. “What kind of party is this anyway?”

  “Just a barbeque. Nothing fancy,” Sawyer said as he walked into the room.

  “Then why do you look good enough to eat? Oh, that’s right, you’re doing all the cooking, Mr. Chef.”

  “Spankings later. Hard ones.” He turned in a full circle. “Just looking nice for my lady.”

  “Uh-huh. You look lik
e the cat who ate the canary if you ask me.” Half racing toward him, she rose onto her tiptoes, kissing his lips. The past two weeks had been so difficult for Sawyer as well as the rest of the team, and the party was the first bright spot since the various tragedies.

  He grabbed her around the waist and bent her at the waist.

  Smack! Crack!

  “Just a reminder of what you’re going to get later.”

  “Bad boy,” she huffed and wiggled out of his hold, trying to get her feet into the new cowboy boots. “I’m ready.”

  “I’ve been ready for almost two hours.”

  “What to do with you.” As they walked outside, she gathered a whiff of what seemed like an approaching storm. The thought about Christopher and Roger, the Dreyfus case and almost everything else rushed into the forefront of her mind.

  “Don’t,” he whispered as he opened the truck door.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Think about everything that’s happened. We’re all right. You’re safe. You will find another job again and we’re practically living together. Those are good things.”

  “Except for living with a messy man,” she countered as he closed the door. Sawyer was right. They were happy and at times, she felt guilty. She wasn’t even certain she cared about finding another job just yet. Sawyer certainly didn’t seem to care. She chuckled at the thought. While she was losing her apartment, she’d gained one fine looking stud muffin. Her pussy clenched just thinking about their sexy relationship.

  “And we’re off.” Sawyer started the engine, almost racing out of the driveway. As he drove, he remained silent, his eyes planted on the road.

  She reached for his hand and his fingers were so cold. “Are you all right?” Mike’s funeral had been rough, but at least all the smokejumpers and several of the firefighters had attended, even though she had no doubt some under duress. Sawyer was quite the influential man.

 

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