Under Fire

by Jamie Garrett

  Liam’s gaze was roving around what remained of the front room of the preschool. Scarlett couldn’t tell if it had been destroyed more by fire or whatever had started it, but there wasn’t much left. The sky was clearly visible above her head, and the walls that were still standing looked like it wouldn’t take much more than a stiff breeze to send them toppling over, too. Large black scorch marks coated them in what seemed like every direction, charring visible along much of the drywall. She took another step forward, and the ground crunched softly beneath her feet. Half soggy carpet, half ash, and probably bits of what remained of burned items combined to make one hell of a mess. She watched as his gaze caught something and he moved swiftly to the other side of the room. She followed, paying little attention when her feet kicked through a section of ash and dirt that was miraculously not wet, sending a dusting of black all over her jeans.

  By the time she’d caught up to Liam, he was squatting down close to the ruined floor, a frown on his face as he snapped images with a small pocket camera. He held up a hand as she approached, and Scarlett stopped moving before taking in a breath and then gingerly stepping where she could see the outline of his footprints, squatting down beside him. What had he found? Her ability to breathe at all nearly disappeared when she saw what Liam was cataloging. A piece of pipe lay on the ground before him, an end cap a little further away, and what looked like a small clump of half-melted nails sat a few yards away on the floor. Scarlett leaned forward and nearly lost her balance when her gaze landed on the end of pipe as Liam rotated it with a pen, snapping an image of the other side.

  Her hand flew out as she flailed, and Liam nearly dropped the camera in his haste to steady her, but she barely reacted. There, stamped into the end of a pipe bomb was the symbol that had been haunting her: two inverted triangles. Despite the damage to the school, they were as clear as day, and the sight froze Scarlett’s blood in her veins.

  Liam shot her a concerned look before pulling himself upright and wrapping an arm around her waist until he seemed sure she wasn’t going to topple over on him. Once she was steady, he removed his hand, then turned and called out across the scene. “Everybody out!”

  21

  Connor

  Connor watched as a solid truck with roller doors pulled in next to Liam’s pickup. They’d been sidelined for a good ten minutes, ever since Liam had arrived on scene. Connor had been working with the rest of the crew to ensure any spot fires were eliminated and securing the scene from any further collapse or debris damage, but his gaze kept flicking right back to where Scarlett sat. She had fidgeted, her fingers tapping on the side of the rig. A couple of times she’d stood and looked like she was going to walk over to them, only to take a few steps and then turn back to the rig. Sometimes she’d sat back down, others she’d leaned up against it, her foot taking over the nervous twitch and tapping against the ground.

  He could sympathize. If he was the one standing on the sidelines waiting for the all-clear, then he would be champing at the bit to get out there, especially with what they suspected. It had to be killing her to sit there waiting for the okay to enter the scene, especially when both he and Scarlett knew that the invitation could be removed entirely at any time when her boss talked to his. His gaze hadn’t left hers as she’d approached Liam when he’d pulled in and she accompanied him into the building. Connor hadn’t realized how tightly he was tensing his muscles until then, his every instinct on high alert even though Scarlett was doing nothing more than sitting on the back of the truck. Having Liam by her side as she combed through what was left after the fire meant he could at least relax a little, and probably stop driving Mason crazy by glancing back at her every five seconds. Liam would treat Scarlett with the same care and respect as he would Meg, his fiancée, and make sure she stayed safe. Any one of the squad would. That he was sure of. They looked out for each other, and by extension, the ones that they loved.

  If anyone at 81 had been unaware of his feelings for Scarlett before that morning, the look on his face when she’d jumped into the truck as they’d left the firehouse would have taken care of that. His body had tensed at her touch initially, the surprise at her appearance and instant worry about what it meant locking his muscles. It had taken only seconds, and a quick brush of her fingers across his thigh for his muscles to relax and his dick to respond, growing long and hard inside his turnout gear. He swore Scarlett had recognized his predicament when a small grin had appeared on her face, and she’d taken full advantage of the situation by leaning into him every time the truck went around a corner. She’d been careful, not doing anything that exposed their relationship outright, but all the same, she’d kept him at a level of arousal that guaranteed he was counting down the hours to when shift was over and he could sweep her up and out of the firehouse and back to his place. Despite the devastation around them, that and the fact that no one had been killed or even badly injured in the fire had lightened his mood for the first time in days.

  That had all fled the moment he’d seen Scarlett crouch down next to Liam in the ash. Her face had been curious at first, then puzzled. He’d been about to walk over and ask what she’d found when her face had drained of all color and Scarlett had turned a deathly white. She’d grabbed Liam’s jacket in what looked like an attempt to avoid falling over, and it had taken less than a second for Connor to turn and make his way to her side, his steps leaving small puffs of dust and ash in their wake as he moved faster than he probably should have, given where he was standing.

  Connor didn’t give a shit. Something had put that look on his woman’s face, and he was damned if he wasn’t going to be there.

  He’d caught up with them both before Scarlett and Liam had even cleared the debris field. Thank God, Scarlett seemed to have recovered from the immediate threat of pitching forward into the ash, but her face was still a shade of gray that he didn’t like at all. He’d reached out and grabbed her hand as he approached, not giving a shit who saw, concern giving way to anger when he felt her hand tremble in his grasp.

  For her part, despite the physical reaction, Scarlett had looked pissed. Her eyes were bright, and her jaw was tensed. Connor guessed her teeth were grinding in frustration at being called off the scene. He still didn’t know what they’d found that had prompted Liam to call the evacuation, but it had to be bad. Liam wasn’t one to act without cause, and he wouldn’t take stupid chances, either. If he’d ordered everyone to stand back from the building, there was a damn good reason, and if Connor didn’t find out what it was in the next few minutes, he was liable to lose it.

  “What’s up?” he asked, as soon as he could get Liam’s attention. As soon as they’d reached the mandatory safe distance, he’d pulled Scarlett to him, placing her between his legs and leaning her back onto his chest, his arms around her waist. He didn’t give a fuck who saw what. Scarlett needed him, and that was all that mattered. Connor cringed at the way his question to Liam left his mouth, the tension in his body clearly seeping through to his words. To Liam’s credit, he didn’t even flinch. There was no mistaking the worry on his face, though. He stood with his body turned, hands on hips as his gaze continually roamed what was left of the building as he talked. One hand gripped his cell, and the radio on his shoulder continually squawked, echoing the scratchy noise coming from Connor’s own. He ignored it. He’d hear more from Liam himself than HQ would ever tell him directly.

  “Pipe bomb.” Liam’s voice was low, but there was no mistaking the words. “I found one end in the front room, plus associated shrapnel littering the corner.” His forehead was tight, and the muscles in his biceps flexed as his hands moved to cross his chest. He glanced down at his cell, a pinched look on his face, before turning back to Connor, giving both him and Scarlett the once-over. “Want to tell me whatever you two have been keeping a secret?”

  Scarlett hesitated and started to shake her head, but Liam held up a hand. “I can tell when someone is freaked out, and you were about to blow over there.” His eyes s
oftened. “I don’t know what’s going on with the brass on your side, but you can trust me. But I can’t do my job if I don’t know something I should be watching out for.”

  He was right. Thanks to the reaction from Scarlett’s boss, they’d kept everything under wraps until they were sure, but the time for that was over. Connor shifted, about to reply when Scarlett beat him to it. “I’ve seen the mark on the bomb before.” Connor couldn’t help tensing at her words. He forced his hands to relax where they held her before his touch left bruises. Son of a bitch! Scarlett continued. “Connor and I found it on a piece of metal from the fire near the business park.”

  Liam switched on his camera and flipped through the photos, bringing up the one with a shot of the front room, the piece of pipe stamped with the design clearly visible from close up. Connor felt his muscles tense again, locking him in place around Scarlett. At that point, it could be the end of the world itself and he wouldn’t let her go. They’d both had a damn good hunch they were dealing with a serial offender, but somehow seeing the definitive evidence up close and personal was still making his heart pulse and blood rush through his veins. However it had happened, Scarlett had gotten these asshole’s attention, and they were gunning for her. There was no way the shooting in the station parking lot had been a co-incidence. His hands moved to wrap around her body, shielding her from any prying eyes and bullets. They’d already had one shot at her, and Connor would be damned before he’d let them anywhere near her again.

  The thought about taking her away entered his mind. Taking Scarlett and hiding her somewhere far away, where no one could lay a finger on her, let alone make her bleed again. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come. Running away wasn’t something he could ever ask her to do. Saving people, doing this job, it was in her blood. The world had already taken too much from the woman he loved—there was no hiding from his feelings for her anymore, either—and there was no way Connor was going to take anything else from her, too. They were holding ground, together, and fighting this head-on. He could only pray that with the help of friends, they’d both still be standing at the end.

  22

  Scarlett

  Scarlett was still wrapped in Connor’s arms, listening as he and Liam debated theories about the fire, when she first felt it. It was almost nothing at first, like a quiet buzzing sound inside her skull, something you waved away without noticing. But after a few moments, the pressure grew, until it felt like something was burrowing into the back of her head. She turned her head, looking over her shoulder, her body locking up at the sight of her boss standing next to Chief Stone. Their conversation was hushed—too quiet for her to hear any details—but that didn’t make it civil. No, the two men were gesturing wildly, their eyes sharp and faces tight. Even that hadn’t stopped Harrelson from looking over to her every few seconds, disappointment evident on his face. Her stomach clenched. Grief, over-protectiveness, that she knew how to handle. But disappointing the man who had become like a father figure hit her hard.

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the pair. It was the weirdest sensation. Only the fact she could still hear the rest of their surroundings made Scarlett sure she hadn’t gone suddenly deaf and was failing to hear heated yelling between the pair. What the hell was going on? Her boss clearly knew she was there, but rather than coming over and tearing her a new one, he was instead in an argument with Connor’s boss.

  The thought slammed into her. He wouldn’t blame the firehouse for her still being on scene, would he? The thought of Connor and his squad taking the heat for her disobeying orders settled like a boulder in her gut. They’d been nothing but welcoming, and Scarlett would bet that Connor was the only person who even knew she shouldn’t still be there. She was damned if they were going to take the brunt of her boss’s anger in her stead. She twisted in Connor’s grasp and he looked down at her, his eyebrows raised in question. She said nothing, just inclined her head slightly toward the bizarre conversation happening across the road. His expression changed from questioning to concerned as Connor took in the same signals she’d seen, but instead of continuing to watch from a distance, he turned and was striding toward the pair before she’d realized what he had in mind. Scarlett moved quickly, jogging to catch up with his long steps.

  “You can’t take her off the investigation.” Scarlett’s eyes widened at Connor’s words, the surprise at his statement echoed on Harrelson’s face. His eyebrows shot up even as Scarlett reached for Connor, grabbing his hand and trying in vain to pull him away. She didn’t know why she bothered. The guy outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds, and by his stance, wasn’t in the mood to be hustled away from this argument. The heat she’d spotted between the two department heads before was now flashing through Connor’s eyes.

  Harrelson’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. His lips flattened into a line, and Scarlett almost expected him to do something ridiculous like bare his teeth, or reach out and punch Connor across the face. She stepped forward, placing herself between them, realizing immediately the ridiculousness of her move. She wasn’t short, but Connor still had several inches on her, and her smaller body barely concealed his bulk. Still, this was her fight, and she’d be damned if she let him take the hit—literally or otherwise. “Captain, I—”

  Her boss held up his hand, cutting her off. The man pulled himself up and Scarlett tried to suppress a cringe, waiting for the explosion. She deserved it, really. Despite having what she considered to be an excellent reason, she’d gone against a direct order. Especially with their history, knowing what they’d all been through before with Derek’s death, she’d owed him better than that.

  Then again, he’d owed her better, too. This case was important to her; that much would have been obvious to anyone with eyes at their last meeting in Harrelson’s office at the precinct. She was a damn good cop, and he knew exactly how much nailing these bastards meant to her, damn it. He had no right to take her off the case just because it was dangerous, and if he had another reason, he’d yet to voice it. She tried again. “Boss, I really think—”

  “Can it, Christensen.” That time, she did flinch. It was rare that the captain called her by her last name only. The man’s manners may be brusque, but he cared for her, in his own way. Had she finally pushed him beyond the point of any special treatment? She didn’t think she cared. As much as it sucked to lose the case, being treated like one of the guys was what she’d been fighting for the entire time. Now she just had to win this argument.

  Scarlett’s spine straightened and she took a step closer, but before she could get a word out, all the fight seemed to go out of her boss. Harrelson ran a hand through his hair, looking down at her and shaking his head. “Goddamn it, Scarlett. I told you to stay away from this.” He blew out a breath. “One attempt on your life wasn’t enough?”

  She grinned, her stand firm. “Never, sir. Not when the assholes are still out there.”

  He jerked his head toward the fire. “You think it’s the same perps, then?”

  Scarlett shook her head. “Not think, sir. I know it. We found evidence connecting this blaze with another fire already, and I bet if we dig further, we’ll find more.”

  This time, it was Harrelson’s turn to look surprised. His eyes moved down to where one of her hands was still locked with Connor’s, his big hand enfolding hers entirely within his grasp and gripping tightly. “We?” the captain asked.

  Scarlett refused to let go or budge an inch on her stance. “Yes, we. Connor and everyone else here at 81 have been instrumental in the progress we’ve made so far.” She looked back at the scene, Connor releasing her hand as she moved to point out Liam.

  The arson investigator was standing where they’d found the fragments that had nearly stopped her heart just a short while ago. Had it really only been about half an hour? The find had shocked her to her core, but she was already back on track and ready to nail whoever the hell was bombing Monroe for shits and giggles. If there was a motive, she’d
love to find it, but so far there’d been no connection between the fires, save for the newly found physical evidence that gave them their first provable link. Just her gut, and the circumstantial link between Officer Ellis and the chemicals needed. At best, she could prove lazy police work and failure to follow up properly on the reports. She still didn’t have the proof that the fires were caused by TATP. Until today, there hadn’t even been enough evidence to prove the damn things were the result of bombs rather than a standard case of arson, or even accidental. God, the first blaze had been written off as an accidental explosion from a home-based drug lab.

  Everywhere she reached, there were tiny little pieces, but trying to put them together to make a complete picture was still out of reach. The whole thing was making her crazy. She took in a breath. Like they had with Liam, it was time to lay it out for her boss. Everything.

  Scarlett crossed her arms across her chest, gripping her biceps and digging her fingers in. Was it some vague attempt at self-preservation? She didn’t care. It helped the churning in her gut as she laid it all out for Harrelson and Chief Stone. The weird-ass organization in the basement of the very first fire, the chemical residues found at the others, then the brand stamped into the metal piece. It had been part of an explosion, that much was obvious from looking at it, once Connor’s trained eye had shown her what to look for. What they hadn’t known until that morning was whether the metal had come from a direct result of the industrial park fire, or something else.