Ursa Major

by Mary Winter

  “We’re in your wilderness now. It’s my turn to take orders.”

  “I’ll hold you to that later.” She tossed the innuendo back at him, and was rewarded with a flash of heat in his eyes. He trusted her to do what was right for the bears, for his people, and for his home. A hot burst of lust unfurled low in her stomach. That was what she wanted from Walt and had never received, an easy acceptance of her competence and her strength. Instead, he had tried to mold her to his ideas, to his idea of the perfect political wife. Just thinking about him made her skin crawl and she focused on the task at hand as she led him to the parking.

  The drive to her office passed in silence. Covertly, Sarah watched him. As they drove past skyscrapers and packed housing developments, over the six-lane concrete rivers leading through the heart of the city, she started to ask what he thought. Then, she stopped. He’d told her he trusted her, that this was her wilderness. Idle chatter wouldn’t change that.

  He trusted her.

  The words warmed her far more than he would ever know. In Alaska she’d given herself over to him, knowing that he would keep the bears away and lead her back from the wilderness. Now, it was her turn. She pulled into the familiar parking and nodded. “We’re here.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I figured I’d go in like I was going to work late. It’s common. Lots of us come in after the dinner hour to finish things up. And then, hopefully be able to talk to Ken or Bill. I’ll admit, I hadn’t thought about it much past that. Ken’s always been a reasonable guy. I’m pretty sure I can talk to him.” Sarah’s stomach fluttered. Maybe she should have thought this through. Ken had acted more hard-nosed than she was used to seeing from him. She licked her lips.

  “And Bill? He’s a reasonable guy too?”

  Sarah stared through the windshield. “He used to be. The last time I saw him he was acting erratic, talking to himself, certainly not acting like his usual self. I still think I can talk to him.” She swallowed hard, battling the fear that she was wrong.

  “Okay. This is your turf. I’m here in whatever capacity you need me to be.” Liam reached across the car and squeezed her hands. “I did some work for our ruling body. You might call it Special Forces stuff, though that wasn’t my bag. I do have some training if things go south, and my first priority will be to get you out of there and keep you safe.”

  A sudden chill snaked down her spine. “You really think things might go that badly?”

  Liam shrugged, a nonchalant movement that told her more than his words that he was used to dealing with high, powerful people who wanted to get their own way. “When money and power is involved, who the hell knows. Let’s go.” He opened his car door.

  Sarah followed suit, grabbing her laptop from the back seat and slinging it over her shoulder. She carefully locked the doors, trying to tell herself it was just another night at the office. Nothing to worry about. No reason for her stomach to sink or an awful feeling of dread to make her stomach drop somewhere in the vicinity of her knees. Her access card granted her entrance to the building. The elevator ride to their floor passed in silence. The business they shared their floor with was surprisingly dark. Everyone must have gone home.

  Standing outside her office, she checked windows. A light burned in Bill’s office. All the other places appeared dark. She waved her badge in front of the card reader. The door clicked open and she opened it.

  Something stung her nose.

  “Gas.” Liam clamped his hand over her arm. “Don’t go any further.”

  “What?”

  “Smells like someone spilled a gas can in here. Let’s go.” He reached for his pocket for his cell phone. “You have security in this building, right?”

  “Yeah, there’s a guard who is usually on duty downstairs.” Sarah smelled again, this time identifying the searing odor of gasoline.

  “Won’t do it. Won’t do it. Won’t do it.” Bill’s voice rose to a shout, repeating the words over and over again like a chant.

  “We have to get him out of there. Don’t use your phone. The spark might start a fire. Go downstairs and alert the guard.”

  “Sarah,” Liam growled.

  “This is my wilderness. You said it yourself. Go tell the guard what’s happening. I’m getting Bill.” She yanked her arm away from him and dashed down the hall.

  Behind her, Liam gave a muttered curse. Moments later she heard the elevator ding.

  Sarah took shallow breaths, her eyes watering from the gasoline smell. The further she got into the office, the worse it got, until she swore she saw hazy fumes hanging in the air. “Bill?” she called.

  The chanting stopped.

  “Bill. We have to go. There’s a gas leak.” She stopped at his open door. There, on the floor, lay at least six large gas cans overturned on their sides. Gas leaked slowly from one of them, and she stepped forward, the carpet squishing beneath her foot. “Bill?” She held out her hand.

  The man sitting in the middle of the gas cans bore no resemblance to her boss. His gray hair stood up at odd angles, greasy as if it hadn’t been washed. His rumpled clothes and wide eyes looked so different from the cool, calm boss she knew. “It’s over, Sarah. I’m sorry.” He fished a lighter from his coat pocket.

  “No!” She snapped. She crouched down. “It’s not over. Tell me what’s going on. We can fix this.”

  Bill flipped the lighter open.

  “Don’t do this.” Her heart jack hammered. Her mouth went dry. “There’s people in the building. Whatever it is, it’s not worth killing yourself or others for. You don’t know what an explosion would do.” Liam probably would. And she’d sent him downstairs, hopefully to safety. She stood and stepped forward.

  “Don’t come any closer.” He worked the lighter, opening and closing it with his fingers. “It’s all gone. The firm. Our reputation. We were never fair and unbiased. I took their money and I told them what I wanted.”

  “No,” she breathed. All this time she dreamed she worked for a greater purpose, that she was one of the good guys in Washington DC. She shook her head. “We can fix it. Don’t throw it all away.”

  “I already have.” His hand, with the lighter, dropped to the carpet. “They’re coming for me, you know.”

  Sarah crept forward. “Who?” Damn it, where was Liam? She strained to hear sirens, anything that told her professionals were on the way. She was a researcher, a political scientist. She wasn’t equipped for this. Somehow, she made it to Bill’s side. She reached for the lighter.

  He jerked it away. The silver object tumbled in his grip. It slid from his fingers, hitting the carpet and bouncing a few feet away.

  Sarah stared at it, wondering whether to reach for it or not.

  Bill lunged.

  She lurched after him, grabbing his shoulders and hauling him back from the lighter. Together, they hit a gas can. It toppled over. The glug-glug of spilling liquid sounded like Niagara Falls. “Bill. Let’s go.” She started to stand.

  He dropped like a dead weight. “You don’t understand, Sarah. You were the best. I never wanted to do this to you.” For a moment, she thought tears choked his voice. Then, in a flash, they were gone. The man looking at her from rheumy green eyes wasn’t the boss she’d known. Somehow, he’d folded in on himself.

  Distantly, Sarah heard sirens.

  Her heart leapt. Maybe the police, security, someone was coming to save her, and she wouldn’t’ have to talk her boss out of killing them both and blowing up the building. Drawing a deep breath, she thought of Liam. He had to come back. Surely by now he’d gotten to the security guard. She couldn’t count on him. If she’d come back on her own, she’d have had to deal with Bill. She could do it now.

  “Bill, tell me what you did. Whatever is wrong, we can fix it.”

  He jerked as if shot. “No, we can’t. Go, Sarah. Leave me.”

  Sarah glanced at the door. Leaving now meant mustering other people from the building, a chance to save lives. If Bill let her get t
hat far. She swallowed hard and looked at the man who had been her mentor. Like a father, he’d taken her under his wings, helped her climb political ropes and avoid the land mines. If she left, she’d be letting him fall into one the dark pits awaiting the unwary. Politics was like that. All sunshine and light over death traps.

  Liam, get everyone to safety. I have to do this. She willed the words at him. He might be a different species; he wasn’t telepathic. Please.

  “I’m not leaving you, Bill.” She sat next to him on what she hoped was a dry patch of carpet. Reaching behind her, she carefully righted the gas can. The fumes stung her nose. Her eyes watered. Taking his too-cold hand between her own, she gave it a squeeze. “You’re not going to kill yourself. Whatever it is, isn’t worth your life. Tell me.” She stared into his eyes, wishing to see a glimpse of the man she’d once known.

  He stared at her for a long moment, then turned away. “I’ve done a bad thing. I got greedy.”

  Her breath whooshed from her lungs.

  Sirens sounded, louder now.

  Footsteps pounded outside the office. Moments later, the fire alarm went off.

  Thank you, Liam.

  Her cell phone rang. She stiffened, afraid just the ringing would spark a fire. Her hands on Bill formed a lifeline, one she hated to lose. “Bill. Let’s go. The fire alarms are going off. We have to evacuate the building.”

  He jumped to his feet like a man half his age. Diving for the lighter, he snatched it up and held it triumphantly over his head. “Good, then I can do this.” He flipped the cap of the lighter.

  “No!” Sarah wobbled after him, wishing she’d worn her sneakers instead of low-heeled boots. Her cell phone stopped.

  “Sarah, you all right?” Liam’s voice echoed in the office.

  “In here!” She charged Bill, grabbing his wrist and yanking him away from the circle of gas cans. He hit the desk, doubling over. His keyboard tray shot out, hitting his chair and sending it careening across the office with a clatter. Bill grunted.

  The lighter fell. Sarah snatched it and pocketed it. Keeping hold of his wrist, she yanked him upright. “Let’s go.”

  He smacked her.

  Her cheek stinging, she whirled from him as he opened his desk drawer and pulled out his cigar lighter. Sarah stood there, tears running from her eyes as she watched him flip open the lid. The cigarette lighter in her pocket sat heavy and cold.

  “Sarah?” Liam’s cry echoed in the halls.

  “In—”

  Bill grabbed her, hauling her against him and clamped his hand over her mouth. “Don’t bring him in here. I’ve lost enough. You won’t go. Now you’ll pay.” He thumbed the lighter.

  Her gut dropped. Goose bumps rose on her skin and she clamped her teeth down on his hand.

  Bill yelped.

  She spat out the foul taste of gasoline. Whirling, she brought her knee into his groin. He doubled over. Grabbing his wrist, she somehow managed to pry the lighter from his hands, and once she had it, she ran.

  “Run!” She yelled down the hall. Her boots pounded, behind her, she heard Bill moving, maybe finding some other way to set the fire. “Run!”

  Liam stood in the doorway. “Sarah?”

  “Run, damn it! He doused the place in gas. He’s crazy. I can’t stop him.” She stumbled, suddenly realizing that she’d left him there.

  Liam grabbed her arm. “Let’s go.” He pulled her down the hall, hitting the door to the stairwell with a thud.

  The security guard stopped at the top of the stairs, panting. “The police are on their way.”

  “Good. Let’s get out of here.” Liam paused just long enough to send the guard down the stairs ahead of them, and then pounded after.

  Sarah stumbled, her feet moving too fast for her to keep up. Somehow, she managed to make it down to the ground floor wondering why the hell the building wasn’t blowing up yet.

  Liam slammed open the door in front of her, and she found herself running straight into her boss.

  Ken grabbed her shoulders. “Sarah? You all right?”

  She nodded, panting too hard to speak. “Bill… still up there…” She forced herself not to double over and draw in breath, instead throwing her shoulders back and sucking in air. They scuttled away from the building. “He spilled gas,” she said when she could draw breath.

  Police and fire personnel swarmed the building.

  Sarah clung to Liam. He looked grim, as if he’d seen this all before. Perhaps, he had. She didn’t know what work he’d done for the Quintursa, and maybe he did this sort of thing all the time. “What’s going to happen to him?” Sarah asked, aware Ken still stood next to her.

  An officer hurried toward them. “You Ken?” he asked her boss.

  “Yes. Is everything all right?” Ken stepped forward.

  “He’s asking for you, sir. We have a bullhorn situated outside the building. It’s too dangerous inside.” The uniformed officer escorted Ken to the grassy strip running alongside the building.

  Sarah followed the officers’ attention to the window, where Bill leaned halfway out of it. His foot hung over the ledge, his hands gripping the frame. On the ground lay the screen, shoved out in his attempt to flee. If he couldn’t burn the whole building down, he’d jump out a window. Not that she wanted to see her boss hurt, but she wondered if a six story fall onto grass would really kill him? At least if it did, he wouldn’t take the entire building and maybe even more out with him. She immediately hated the uncharitable thought.

  “We have to go over there.”

  Liam held her back. “Let them do their job.”

  She heard Bill speaking, though couldn’t quite make out the words. Someone relayed something to Ken, and he raised the bullhorn to his lips. “Bill, I’ve known you for nearly twenty years. Don’t do this. We can work it out. The firm will survive. You will survive. Just come down off the window and let’s talk.” It wasn’t the most impassioned speech she’d ever heard, but coming from Ken, it was quite a lot.

  “Please come down,” she whispered. She leaned into Liam’s strength, wondering if she shouldn’t be over there. If it weren’t for her, then this wouldn’t be happening.

  “No!”

  Even from her vantage point, she heard Bill’s shout. He wavered, edging further onto the ledge.

  Men rushed forward, clamoring around Ken, who yelled at him to stop through the bullhorn.

  Sarah’s fist flew to her mouth. She choked on a sob, turning and burying her head against Liam’s shoulder. Automatically his arms went around her, and she clung to him, feeling so weak for not being able to watch. Her blood whooshed in her veins, echoing in her ears loud enough to drown out the men’s clatter. Ken spoke again through the bullhorn, this time it was just a noise.

  “It’s all my fault,” she whispered against Liam’s solid warmth. “If I hadn’t—”

  Liam pressed his fingers to her lips. “Shh. It’s not your fault. The Quintursa didn’t tell me what was going on before, but I don’t think your boss has been stable for a long time.”

  Sarah jerked from his hold. “You don’t know him.” Whirling, she headed for the officers, bowling past several uniformed men until she reached Ken.

  “Sarah. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Yes, I should.” Power filled her, reminding her of the clarity she’d felt when she had written her report. Here, now, she knew that wallowing in her guilt wasn’t the thing to do. She may have caused this. It might have been her report that turned Bill over the edge, and if it was, she had to face that. She grabbed the bullhorn from Ken’s hands and raised it to her lips. “Bill, stop!”

  In the window, the figure froze. Both legs were on the edge, feet sideways on the miniscule ledges. “Sarah. Go.” His voice drifted to her, weak and sad.

  “Don’t do this. I’m sorry I wrote the report. I believe every word of it, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Ken rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Sarah.”

&
nbsp; “Let’s talk. I know Senator Durwell fired my sister because of my report. I’m sure his cronies aren’t happy that I am opposing further drilling in ANWR. I take full responsibility.”

  “It’s not about you,” Ken said. He rested his hand over hers on the megaphone. “Your report and Senator Durwell’s actions are just a small drop in a very big sea of trouble.”

  “You always were a good girl, Sarah.” Bill called. He teetered onto the edge of the ledge.

  Sarah dropped the megaphone. It made a horrible blaring noise as it hit the ground.

  Bill jumped.

  He flung himself from the window face down, arms and legs outstretched as if to hug the ground he was about to meet.

  The crowd gasped.

  Sarah stifled a shriek, then Liam was there, his hands on her shoulders as the body impacted with a sickening thud.

  Officers rushed forward.

  Sarah stared at the milling crowd, unable to remove the image of Bill, falling like a ragdoll from the window. The crunch of flesh against unforgiving sod, like a dull thump, squelched in her mind. Her stomach heaved. She turned, doubled over, but nothing came out.

  Liam stroked her hair. Someone pressed a bottle of water into her hands, and she sank to the pavement, clutching the plastic bottle in her hands. Moments later, an officer came over and started the process of asking her questions. What had happened in the office? What did she see? What did he say? She told them everything she knew, feeling as if she watched a crime drama on television instead of lived through it. What happened would make the papers. Distantly, she registered someone from the Times and the Post.

  When the last officer left, Ken came over. “You up for talking?”

  She nodded. Through it all Liam hadn’t said much, just reassured her it wasn’t her fault and that he loved her. Those few words resonated in her heart and soul. “Yeah. I think I’d like to know what really was happening. Do you want to go…?” She glanced from Liam to Ken, then back again.