Fire in the Hole [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  Three closings today meant a damned good paycheck in the bank, but she was now thoroughly exhausted and feeling brain-dead as a result of the days of hard work leading up to the successful conclusion.

  It was three weeks since the weekend of the men’s wedding and the arrest of the burglar. Ralph had finally made bail, but he was facing an array of charges he wouldn’t easily buy his way out of.

  Especially since Eve had talked to the state attorney’s office, to a friend of hers there, and found out that the computer forensics specialist had found a virus payload on one of the thumb drives, designed to mimic the one that had hit his business months ago.

  A plot to try to frame Wylie.

  There were apparently people looking into the case from a federal angle, since now one theory had been posed that it was actually Ralph who’d set up the original virus in an attempt to frame Wylie. Cris and Landry were talking about suing Ralph and his company, and according to them, rumors had it that Ralph was financially desperate now and had lost over fifty percent of his staff to other companies in the wake of the cyber attack and the breaking news of him breaking into Wylie’s house.

  It was, in other words, a crazy mess.

  Instead of texting Mark, she called him just before she pulled out of the parking lot.

  “I’m on my way home,” she said when he answered. “Want me to pick up anything for dinner?”

  “No, thank you. I’m okay. I’m eating with Wylie and Everett. They made plenty for you, too. Want me to bring your plate home with me?”

  “Yes, please, and tell them I said thanks. That’ll save me a stop. I’m exhausted. I’ll see you after a while.”

  She hung up and tossed her phone into her purse, where it sat on the passenger seat. She’d initially been nervous about being left alone with Mark—and Jacob—not sure if there’d be any friction between her and them without Brad around.

  Fortunately, the kids had been as good for her as they were for Brad, and this was the third time since she’d moved in that Brad had to be away for several days.

  At least he’d warned her before his first time away that Mark usually made the morning coffee, so she wasn’t weirded out by that.

  Except…if she had to guess, Jacob, despite his outward appearance, was probably the more dominant of the two boys. Still, they had several years of school ahead of them, plus college. That was a lot of growing and maturing between now and then. They might not even be friends anymore at that point.

  At one red light, she felt her baton digging into her hip, so she fished it out of her pocket and laid it next to her purse on the passenger seat. Her concealed carry permit had arrived two weeks earlier, but she still didn’t feel comfortable enough to carry the gun all the time.

  The baton, absolutely. With a flick of her wrist, it would extend and deliver a bone-crunching wallop to its target. It was something she could easily use after the years she’d spent beating on friends with weapons in SCA.

  Tomorrow, after Mark finished his chores, they’d be going to the shooting range. She was taking the whole day off and had already told everyone that, since she’d worked the previous Sunday.

  It was a little weird that Mark would be helping her with her shooting instead of Brad, but then she smiled.

  Now I know how Wylie feels.

  Brad had assured her that Mark would be an excellent replacement teacher for her. And she knew that the kid could shoot, because she’d seen him do so at the range several times already, including with the gun she’d be carrying.

  Yes, the one Brad had purchased at the gun show.

  She refused to carry the damn gun until she was confident with it, and the more she could practice, the sooner Brad and Ev would get off her ass about not carrying it.

  It wouldn’t help her if she couldn’t use it, or she didn’t feel she could shoot someone. At least with the baton, it reminded her of her time in SCA, combat with friends. She could beat someone.

  If her attacker had a gun…well, maybe she’d end up shot for bringing a baton to a gun fight. But she knew her reaction time would be better with the baton. For now, at least.

  It was a relief to round the final curve and see their driveway in the distance in the waning light. It sucked that Brad wouldn’t be home until next week, but at least he’d be coming home to her.

  And she wasn’t all alone. Technically.

  Although Mark hadn’t returned home yet when she parked in front of the house, if the dark windows were any indication. Sure enough, the front door was still locked. Shoving her baton into her pocket to free a hand to fish her house keys from her purse in the growing dark, she got the door unlocked and the inside lights turned on. Leaving the door unlocked for Mark, she set her purse down on the dining room table and kicked off her shoes on her way through to the kitchen.

  I earned a beer today.

  She heard the front door softly open and close. “I’m in the kitchen. So what’d the guys make for dinner tonight?”

  When he didn’t respond, she turned and let out a scream to see Steve standing in the dining room.

  “So you ditch me for a younger, richer guy, huh? You know how much trouble and money you cost me, you ungrateful bitch? Now I have a fucking criminal record, thanks to you.”

  She fortunately had her former SCA combat reflexes and speed on her side. She screamed and threw the nearly full bottle of beer at him, managing to get the back door unlocked and open before he could reach her. Still screaming, she ran across the back porch and hit the screen door, shoving it open and tripping as she jumped down the steps.

  Landing on her right side, she instinctively tucked and rolled, the baton painfully digging into her right hip before she scrambled to her feet and tried to run again.

  The delay, however, had allowed Steve to catch up with her. He tackled her, his hands trying to lock around her throat even as she kicked and fought and scratched at him. She did manage to break his grip and get rolled over onto her back, but then he dropped his weight onto her again and once again started to choke her. She smelled booze thick on his breath, oozing from his pores like a cloud.

  Finally, her clenched fist hit dirt. Grabbing a handful, she closed her eyes and turned her head as she jammed it up into his face, the heel of her hand crunching into his nose, forcing him to release her throat as he let out a scream of pain. She kicked free and scrambled out from under him.

  That’s when she was able to pull the baton from her pocket and flick it open, rounding on him.

  “Bring it, asshole.”

  He lunged at her again and she side-stepped, nailing him hard in the right side with a solid hit as he passed, dragging a pained howl from him.

  “I’m going to kill you, you bitch.”

  “You can damn sure try.” Figuring out why he’d snapped would have to wait until later as her fight reflexes took over, much like that day she’d been sparring with Rusty. Only this time she was furious, and the stakes were far higher.

  Plus, she wanted to draw blood.

  Steve didn’t look as sure of himself this time, but he charged her anyway. The aging and self-important ophthalmologist, whose idea of a hard day’s exercise was playing eight rounds of golf while carrying his own clubs once a month, had no clue how to respond to her as her years in SCA kicked in.

  She feinted left, dodging right at the last second. That time, she landed a hard, jarring strike against his left shoulder with a sickening crack, the blow driving him to his knees. Turning with the follow-through and gaining momentum, she took another hard swing at his upper left arm, causing another satisfying crack before she side-stepped out of his reach, to his left.

  Now he was screaming in agony.

  Plus he was a lefty, which was why she’d chosen to go for that side.

  “Come on, you dumb motherfucker. That all you got?” She was actually hoping he’d come after her again so she could take another whack at him, this time at his head.

  She thought he was going to be stupid e
nough to try to get up again when she heard a shotgun rack behind her just before the blast of the shot made her jump and dirt exploded inches away from Steve’s right knee, making him freeze.

  “Mister,” Mark yelled from right behind her, “I didn’t miss on accident. But you so much as blink and I’ll blow your damn head off. See if I don’t.”

  She turned to see the boy standing there with the same shotgun Brad had grabbed that afternoon Ralph had shown up. “Oh, thank god!”

  He wouldn’t take his eyes off Steve and had both hands on the shotgun, the stock pressed against his shoulder.

  “Ma’am, my phone’s in my back pocket. Please call the cops.”

  Refusing to drop the baton, she fumbled the phone out with her left hand and hit the emergency call button before slumping to the ground on her ass. Finally, her right hand painfully unclenched, the baton rolling from her grip and landing in the grass as she waited for the call to connect.

  “911 operator. What is your emergency?”

  “A man just attacked me at home! My step-son came in and has a shotgun on him now…”

  After getting her info, they kept her on the line.

  Mark spoke up. “You’d better go out to the front yard, ma’am, and meet them. Tell them I have him covered so they don’t get the wrong idea.”

  Mark sounded far older than his years, almost like his father.

  Scrambling to her feet, she ran around the house as she relayed that info to the operator. “And he’s only fifteen, so please, make sure they know that before they get here.”

  Now panicked about Mark’s safety, she was waving and screaming at the first deputy who rolled up in a marked cruiser.

  Who turned out to be one of the ones from the day at Wylie’s, she was relieved to see.

  She ran up to him. “Mark’s holding a shotgun on the guy. The boy who lassoed the intruder that day. Please, don’t hurt Mark!”

  The deputy got out and drew his sidearm. “Where are they?”

  “Outside in the backyard. Please don’t—”

  “Stay here.” He ran around the house, shouting for Mark and announcing himself as a deputy. She was waving down the second cruiser racing up their driveway, lights flashing, as Mark came running around the side of the house to join her.

  Without the gun.

  She nearly tackled him with her hug, her tears finally breaking through. “Are you okay?”

  He started laughing. “I need to ask you that. Once he cuffed the guy, the deputy told me to set the shotgun down and back away and come wait here with you.”

  She directed the second deputy around back as a third, this one with lights and sirens going, turned into their driveway, the cruiser kicking up more dust in its wake as it raced toward the yard.

  Refusing to let go of Mark until she was sure it was safe, she kept her arm around his shoulders. “How’d you know?”

  “I saw you drive up. I was heading down from Wy and Ev’s when I saw that guy park on the side of the road with his lights off, just before our driveway. Then he got out and started running toward the house.”

  “Why didn’t you call the cops or tell the guys?”

  “I didn’t think that through. I was closer to the road than their house when I saw him. It happened so fast and I was too worried about him hurting you. The front door was unlocked, and by then I could hear you screaming. I grabbed Dad’s shotgun and came after him.”

  Ev and Wylie ran up. “What happened?” Ev said. “Are you guys okay?”

  An ambulance running full lights and siren came racing down the road, slowed, and turned up their driveway, too. That’s when the three deputies marched Steve, handcuffed, around the side of the house.

  “Oh, you gotta be shitting me,” Ev growled, but fortunately, Wy held him back when he tried to take a step toward them.

  The first deputy who’d responded walked over. “Son, I left the shotgun on the back steps, empty, safety on. The shells are on the ground where she dropped her baton. Don’t get them until after we leave, okay?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  He held up his hand for a high-five. “You probably saved your mom’s life. He had a hunting knife on him.”

  Now her tears came. “Holy shit!”

  Everett and Wylie crowded around her and Mark and held both of them until she calmed down enough the responding deputy could talk to her. They pulled Mark aside to get his statement first, to give her more time to calm down, having him walk them through what happened.

  Ev and Wy comforted Lara. “He saved my life,” she tearfully whispered.

  “Sounds like you got a few good hits in yourself, sweetie,” Ev said, still sounding worried and protective. “Damn glad you had that baton on you.”

  “Oh, my god, he might have killed me for sure if I hadn’t.”

  “And that’s why I told you carrying was a good idea.”

  A wave of nausea swept through her. “If I had locked the door, Mark would have been facing him alone outside in the front yard. He could have hurt or killed Mark!”

  “Somehow,” Wylie said, “I think Mark would have gotten the better of him. Outrun him, at least. Element of surprise.”

  Once the deputies finished talking to Mark, he waited outside with Ev and Wy while she walked the deputy through the house and explained exactly what had happened.

  “Will they keep him in jail this time?” she angrily asked as she hugged herself.

  “He’ll be facing a number of charges, including armed home invasion and felony assault. Might even be more, depending on what the state attorney thinks. Wouldn’t be shocked if there was an attempted murder charge added to that.” He jotted something in his notebook. “That boy’s sure something else. He’s a one-kid crimestopper. You and your husband are obviously doing something right.”

  She didn’t bother correcting him. “Thank you. He is a great kid.”

  “At this rate, steer him toward being a deputy.”

  “He wants to be a civil rights attorney.”

  He laughed. “At least he’s using his superpowers for good instead of evil.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Nearly two hours later, it was finally just the four of them. Lara and Mark would need to go to the sheriff’s office tomorrow to go over their statements. The Sarasota TV station had also shown up when they’d heard about it on the police scanner. Then they’d interviewed Mark and Lara, and a sheriff’s PIO, who also showed up when it was apparent this would be a news story.

  Not many home invasions were stopped by a teen with a shotgun, who’d also captured a burglar from horseback with a rope.

  Everett and Wylie also announced they were going to spend the night there with them, no arguments.

  Lara didn’t have the energy to fight them when Mark nodded his agreement.

  “Okay, fine. I’m too tired to argue the point. I haven’t even eaten dinner yet. And I need a shower from rolling around in the fricking dirt.”

  She had, at least, gotten the spilled beer wiped up off the kitchen floor from where the bottle had landed.

  “Your dinner is in the fridge,” Mark said. “I put it in there when I was walking the deputy through what I did.”

  She laughed, pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you, sweetie. Let me shower off first and I’ll heat it up.”

  She was in the shower when someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Yes?”

  A startled yelp escaped her when she heard the door open.

  “It’s just me,” Ev said.

  She peeked around the shower curtain and saw only his arm stuck through the cracked-open door. In his hand lay a phone. Not hers, probably Mark’s, from the looks of it.

  “Uh, kinda busy. Can’t this wait?”

  “Uh, no. Your other half is on the line and implied he’d kick my ass if I didn’t hand the phone over ASAP.”

  “Sorry, Lar!” Mark yelled from what sounded like the bedroom doorway. “I told Dad you were in the shower!”

  “For god�
�s sake, Ev. Bring it in. You’ve seen me naked before.”

  He pushed the door open a little wider and stepped in, closing it behind him. She reached for her towel, dried her hand, and then held her palm out for the phone.

  “Can this wait until after my shower?”

  “Uh, when my phone’s blowing up from friends and my mom, hello, in Sarasota, asking me why my son and fiancée are on TV talking about an armed home invasion, no. This absolutely cannot wait.”

  “Shit. Um, heh, yeah. Hey, guess what happened tonight?”

  Brad let out a groan. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m…fine. I’ll probably hurt like a motherfucker in the morning, but I’m sure Steve will be hurting a hell of a lot worse.”

  “According to the TV report, they said he had several broken bones, so yeah, probably. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because it happened kind of fast, and the cops and TV people literally just left a little bit ago.”

  “What happened?”

  Ev stood against the door, leaning, arms crossed and smirking at her.

  “He apparently followed me home from work. Yes, you and Ev were right, I needed the baton. And yes, you were also both right, I need to get comfortable carrying a gun. Happy?”

  Ev’s smirk widened and he gave her a thumbs-up.

  “And I hope you’re not jealous my ex-husband’s standing in our bathroom and seeing me naked.”

  Brad finally laughed. “No, I’m not jealous, because hot news flash, he’s gay. And no, I’m not happy I was right about you needing to carry. Are you really okay?”

  “Thanks to Mark, yeah.”

  “Mark said you were holding your own when he got there. He sounded extremely impressed. I’d use the word awestruck.”

  “He probably stopped me from beating Steve’s brains in.”

  “Well, considering Mark admitted to me that he wanted to blow Steve’s brains out, that’s fair enough. Especially since he knows, legally, he could have gotten away with it because you were in danger. You both showed enviable restraint, in other words. I’ll drive home and be there in about four hours.”

  “Why?”

  “Uh, seriously? You’re asking me why?”