Fire and Granite

by Andrew Grey

  “I think you and I can start over.”

  “Good. I’d like that, and I’d like you and Mom to meet Clay sometime.” Andrew wasn’t sure how that was going to go over, but he and Clay shared a smile. “He’s a sheriff’s deputy. I think I told you already. Maybe the painkillers are kicking in. Do you want to talk to the kids?” Andrew let Auburn and Duane talk to their grandparents. Once they were done, Andrew talked to his mother for a few minutes and then said goodbye and ended the call.

  “You want me to meet your parents?” Clay asked.

  “Of course.” Andrew put his head back and closed his eyes. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but we’ve already been through a lot. So yeah, I want you to meet my family. I think my mom will love you.”

  “I know mine will,” Clay said with a grin.

  “Just don’t eat anything,” they said together and laughed.

  Clay stood, and Andrew slowly lay down. He’d finished making all his calls, and the kids were playing happily. The house was pretty quiet, so he figured he’d take the chance to rest before something else happened.

  Chapter 9

  CLAY WOKE with Andrew snuggled right next to him, lying on his back with his arm on his chest, snoring to beat the band. Petey lay at the foot of the bed, adding his own snuffling to the chorus. Clay smiled and checked the clock. It had been a quiet couple of days. The carpenters were coming to Andrew’s house to fix the door today, and then he and the kids would be moving home. Clay was going to miss the activity. He’d gotten to love having all of them there and he liked it.

  “Andrew,” Clay said softly, stroking his jaw. “We need to get going. The kids need to go to day care, and you have to meet the carpenters.” Clay had a shift as well. Getting back to real life was harder than he’d thought.

  “Yeah,” Andrew moaned and slowly rolled over. His arm was still tender, but he had stopped taking pain pills and had seen his own doctor, who was pleased with the healing.

  “Harper is being transported back here today.” Thankfully the state was helping with the transport, so all Clay’s department had to do was oversee a team to take charge and get him into the jail. The state had also agreed to provide a special team to transport him to and from the courthouse, when the time came, so there would be no chance of a repeat performance. He and his gang were behind bars, and they were bloody well going to stay there. “I need to be there, and I have a ton of work to catch up on.”

  “And I have to be in court.” Andrew groaned. “Maybe, if it’s okay, I’ll take Petey in with me. He can stay in the office, and I can take him out at lunch.” Hearing his name, Petey lifted his head and then trudged up the blankets to insinuate himself between them, lying back down with a “don’t disturb me” huff.

  Andrew chuckled and got out of bed, his bare butt a sight to behold. He pulled on a robe and shuffled off to the bathroom while Clay laid out his things, then took his turn once Andrew was done.

  Both kids were still sound asleep, and Petey had already moved into Duane’s room, taking a place at the foot of his bed. Clearly he wanted more sleep and was trying to find a place where he wouldn’t be disturbed.

  Andrew got the kids up while Clay went downstairs and made a quick breakfast. By the time Andrew joined him, the kids were seated and eating, with Petey under the table, waiting for the inevitable fallout.

  Clay put a plate down for Andrew while he reviewed the notes and documents Eileen had sent over for him so he could be prepared. Andrew seemed to have become the king of multitasking and could read and listen at the same time.

  “Are we going to school?” Duane asked.

  “Yes,” Andrew answered. Duane called day care school, and they didn’t contradict him. “Get your things when you’re done eating, and I’ll take you.”

  Clay joined them, and they all finished eating. He helped Andrew get the kids ready and loaded into his car. Petey seemed more than happy to go along with him, and once they were gone, Clay checked his watch and headed in to work himself.

  “GLAD TO be back?” Briggs asked as he walked into the station.

  “Yes,” Clay lied. It was strange being away from Andrew after having spent so much time with him.

  “I see you and the judge didn’t kill each other.” Briggs chuckled, and it took Clay a few seconds to realize what Briggs was talking about. Things had changed so much in his mind in the last week or so that his old attitude seemed foreign to him.

  “He’s a good guy,” Clay said, not wanting to say much about their relationship.

  “We’ve questioned the men we caught in Harper’s hideout, and they all say that Harper wasn’t the one calling the shots, though they claim not to know who it was.” Briggs rolled his eyes.

  “Do you believe them?” Clay asked.

  Briggs sighed. “I don’t want to, but they all said the same thing. Harper would spend time on the phone with someone, and afterward he’d tell them what to do. He always talked away from them so they couldn’t overhear. So now we’re trying to find some sort of mystery man. We’ve requested Harper’s phone records, but it’s one of those burner phones, and the company is overseas….”

  “So getting them to comply is difficult at best,” Clay supplied with frustration. “What can I do?”

  “Not a whole heck of a lot. We’re cooperating with the borough police, and everyone is working on this.” Briggs patted him on the shoulder. “Good work recapturing Harper, by the way.”

  “That was dumb luck.” Clay wished he could do more, but it wasn’t his investigation and his part seemed to be over for now. He’d tried to think of reasons to be able to stay with the judge until everything was wrapped up, but the sheriff had said that with Harper behind bars, the threat was over and he was needed back on his regular duty. “Harper knows who he was talking to.”

  “True, and I thought that maybe we could get him to slip up somehow and tell us, but he’s lawyered up already. The Mt. Pocono police have said that he’s not talking about anything or anyone.”

  That fit his cousin’s pattern. “I wonder if you could take me out to where you found the hideout. I’d like to look around. Maybe….”

  “It’s a good idea,” Briggs offered, and Clay checked in with the department. The sheriff himself was busy, but he’d conveniently enough assigned him to work with Pierre, who had been there on the raid. Clay found him, and they headed out with Brigg’s consent.

  “So, you and Judge Phillips,” Pierre said with a wry smile. “Who would have thought?”

  Clay nodded. “Yeah. Though I’m not making a big deal of it.” He pulled out his phone while Pierre drove. “Eileen, is he in court?” he asked, but she put him through to Andrew.

  “I only have a few minutes and I have to be back,” Andrew said. Damn, it was good to hear his voice.

  “They have Harper, as you know, but his men have almost all said that there was someone else calling the shots. So be careful. Don’t take any chances, and don’t go anywhere alone. I tried to get assigned back to you, but they don’t see the threat.” Clay’s stomach roiled and clenched with worry.

  “Is this that big a deal?” Andrew said. “Petey, that’s my chair! Your dog will sit anywhere warm.”

  “Yup.” Clay chuckled. “Just be careful. We don’t know if whoever is behind this is after you or not. It was Harper who threatened you. But don’t take chances… please.” He added the last part quietly, but that seemed to get through.

  “Okay.”

  “I’d also suggest calling the day care. Tell them that if anyone other than you tries to contact or pick up the kids, they are to call the police immediately. If they want to get to you, the kids are the easiest way.” Clay slowed his speech, nerves have gotten the better of him for a second.

  “I’ll do that right now. And thanks.” The warmth in Andrew’s voice touched his heart.

  “Be safe. That’s all that matters. I’ll try to come by the courthouse tonight to see you to day care and then home.”


  “I’m supposed to meet the carpenter at the house.”

  Clay groaned. “Find someone to go with you. Just don’t be there alone, okay?” He’d forgotten about that and wanted to tell Andrew to reschedule it. “I’m headed out to the hideout to see if I can see anything they missed.” He hoped something would catch his eye and make sense to him. It was a long shot, but he had to try.

  “You be careful too.” Andrew paused. “I need to go. But I’ll be careful.” He ended the call, and Clay put his phone away.

  “It’s pretty serious between the two of you, isn’t it?” Pierre asked.

  “I think so. We haven’t talked about anything long-term, though. Basically I’ve been trying to get him through this threat in one piece.” Clay shook his head. “And in the end, he gets hurt by jumping in front of me.”

  Pierre pulled to a stop at a sign. “You are serious about Andrew, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’d take a knife or a bullet for him…?” Pierre started, and Clay nodded. They pulled through the intersection. “Then why do you expect him to care any less for you?” Pierre rolled his eyes. “I swear, I’d kill to protect Jordan and Jeremiah, and I suspect Jordan would rip anyone apart who tried to hurt me. So be grateful someone cares that much for you. It’s pretty rare.” He sped up, and they drove the rest of the way in silence, with Clay actually smiling until Pierre pulled to the side of the road.

  “This is familiar,” Clay said softly.

  “The hideout is two hundred yards through those trees.” Pierre put the car in Park and turned off the engine. “No chances.” He got out and unclipped his gun. Clay did the same.

  They slowly made their way through the thick trees. There was a vague path, but they stayed off it, approaching the buried rusty red shipping container from the side. Everything was quiet and the police tape across the front undisturbed, but they were cautious as they opened the door to go inside.

  The container was empty of people but littered with stuff, including makeshift beds on the floor, food, a few folding chairs on the sides, and a single table along one wall.

  “What are you looking for?”

  Clay shrugged. “I’ll know it if I see it.” That was the best answer he had. “Harper is a neat freak. He would never willingly live in something like this.” He made his way toward a plywood back wall and opened the door. “This is where Harper stayed.” There was a blanket and an air mattress on the floor.

  “This was neat as a pin when we got here last time,” Pierre supplied.

  Clay picked up the blanket, looking it over. His eyes watered, and he turned to the side, sneezing like crazy. He sniffed and raised the blanket to his nose. “Downy,” he said, dropping the blanket on the now-flat air mattress. “The stuff always makes me sneeze.”

  Pierre picked up the blanket himself. “What kind of guy, on the run, has blankets washed in fabric softener?”

  Clay finished looking around. “How about one whose blankets were washed by his mother?” He continued through the small room. “Where were the drugs?”

  “Right through there. Behind them was the hidden exit that Harper used to get away.”

  Clay nodded. “Briggs told me how much was here.” He crouched down to look at the passage. It was little more than a tunnel, but good enough for their quarry to have gotten out. “They must have been storing product here for a while.” He sneezed again, turning to look up at Pierre.

  “It made for a great little distribution center. Very few people would notice a car or truck coming down here every so often, so they could work pretty much undisturbed.” Pierre pointed to the cases of small plastic bags. “It was a slick operation.”

  Clay stood back up and searched some more. There was nothing personal or particularly interesting in the place other than some clothes and a few canned goods and a camp stove. They probably wouldn’t have risked building a fire, but it ran on gas, so they could eat. “There’s nothing else.”

  “What do we do now?” Pierre turned toward the bedding.

  “I think we need to pay my relatives a visit.”

  CLAY AND Pierre pulled up in front of Aunt Marlene and Uncle Frederick’s house. It looked like someone was home, with the way there were lights on.

  “How do you want to handle this?” Pierre asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Clay said. “They know me, have since I was a kid. I have to assume that they know what happened in Mt. Pocono and that Harper tried to hurt me and the people I was with.” A million possibilities ran through his mind. He opened the door and got out.

  “You have a plan?”

  “Just talk to them, don’t give too much away, and wing it from there.” Clay closed the door, and he and Pierre walked to the front door. He rang the bell and waited for it to open. “Aunt Marlene,” Clay said softly. “Are you okay?” She looked like hell and had probably been crying.

  She opened the door blankly, and they stepped inside. “I don’t know. All this is such a shock.” She sniffed. “I always thought Harper was a good boy. Everyone misunderstood him, but….” She wiped her eyes with a tissue. “I always tried to do my best for him.” She turned and flopped in a recliner.

  “I have to say that I’m here in an official capacity. You know what happened, don’t you?” He kept his voice calm.

  “Yes.” She whimpered and seemed to shrink in on herself. “I know what they say he did. Well….” She lifted her gaze to him and Pierre. “You were there, so I can’t deny it, no matter how much I want to believe he’s innocent.”

  Clay wanted to help her, but he had a job to do and no comfort to give since Harper had thrown at knife at him. That was unforgiveable. “Has Harper contacted you at all since he’s been out? I know the two of you were always very close….”

  She sniffled again. “No. That’s part of what hurts. He never did. I kept waiting for him to, even though I’ve had a lot of police here, and he had to know that I would never say anything.” His aunt wiped her eyes again. “He’s my son and I only wanted to see him.”

  Clay stopped himself from shaking his head at her weirdness. “Is it okay if I use your bathroom?” he asked, and his aunt waved her hand toward the hall. Clay excused himself and went toward the bathroom. Just as he thought, right across the hall was the closet. He opened it, and in two seconds, he had to hold his nose. He got the bathroom door closed just before he sneezed. Clay washed his hands and spent a minute inside to make it look good before joining Pierre and his aunt in the living room.

  “Are you ready to go?” Pierre asked.

  “Yup.” Clay turned to his aunt. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  She nodded and blew her nose. It sounded like a goose call. “I’ll be fine. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

  Clay rolled his eyes but said nothing in response to that. “Where’s Uncle Frederick? I was hoping to see him. It’s been a while.”

  “He had some running around to do.” She wiped her eyes and stood to see them to the door. “Say hello to your mother.”

  “I will.” Clay waved as she closed the door.

  “That was useless,” Pierre said as he walked to his side of the car. “I believed her, as ridiculous as she sounded.” He got in, and Clay did the same, pulling his door closed. “What was all that in the bathroom? Did you find something in there?”

  “Linen closet is right across the hall. Barely made it to the bathroom before sneezing my brains out. She uses way too much Downy on everything, and if I had to guess, I’d say that blanket came from their house.”

  Pierre started the engine. “What? You think she was lying?”

  “I don’t know. But I think that blanket came from this house. Harper may have used a key and come in when his folks weren’t home.” But Clay didn’t think that was the case; the house had been watched pretty closely. “I think that my aunt is either a better actress than we think, or my uncle is the one who has been lying. Either way, I think we need to talk to him.”<
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  “We need to report all this. We certainly don’t have enough to bring him in,” Pierre said, chuckling. “Yeah, Your Honor, we followed the scent of Downy to the big fish. Basically, we have very little to go on.”

  “True.” Clay pulled out his phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Calling gossip central.” He figured his mother would be on the phone to his aunt in two seconds flat. “Let’s try planting a seed and see if it grows into a tree… or maybe a big, tall pot plant.” He dialed and waited for his mother to answer.

  “DO YOU want me to come pick you up?” Clay asked Andrew at the end of the day. He’d been busy trying to collect additional evidence on who had been backing Harper. In his heart of hearts, given the evidence he’d gathered—though most of it was flimsy as hell—he knew Harper had definitely been in touch with his family, but that got him no closer to figuring out who the big fish was.

  “I’m fine. I need to get the kids, and my house is done, so I thought we’d stop by your place to pick up all our stuff.” Andrew sounded really tired. “It’s going to feel strange living in my own house again. Big and lonely,” he added quietly. “I think Petey here is ready to go home too.”

  “All right. Just make sure someone goes out with you. Get the kids and come right to my house.” Clay hated that he might still be in danger.

  “I promise I will,” Andrew agreed. “And I’ll have my phone with me all the time, and if anything happens, I’ll call immediately.” He sighed softly. “Thank God this day is over.”

  “Does your arm still hurt?” Clay left the station, heading toward his own car. He was just as happy as Andrew seemed to be that the day was over.

  “Not really. Most of the pain is gone, though I have to be careful not to pull, but other than that, it’s good. At least I don’t look like Judge Quack-Quack.” Andrew chuckled.