by Andrew Grey
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
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Copyright
Fire and Onyx
By Andrew Grey
A Carlisle Deputies Novel
Undercover sheriff’s deputy Evan Whittaker is close to infiltrating a vicious local gang. He just needs to find an opening. Instead, he finds Wes Douglas, a web designer who is raising his irresponsible brother’s son. Wes agrees to help with a stakeout, but he pays the price when his home is destroyed in a shoot-out.
Evan’s always been a loner, but when he invites Wes into his home, living together feels right, and the two men only grow closer as they adapt to each other’s lives and rhythms. A future as a family looks brighter by the day, but all of that could collapse when Wes’s brother—and his connection to the drug dealers—crashes into the life they’re carefully building.
To Dominic, for seeing through to the other side of each and every story.
Chapter 1
EVAN WHITTAKER’S gut churned, hard, and he had to work to suppress it. Weeks of effort, and he could see the whole thing going down the fucking drain right before his eyes. Officers stormed the ramshackle house two miles west of Carlisle, where the suspects had been not two hours before. And the biggest pile of shit of all, Sheriff Briggs had backed him and he’d been wrong—and now it was pretty clear that the house was empty and the suspects had moved on.
Pierre kicked in the front door, and the deputies surged forward; another team led by Clay would be coming through the back. Evan could see it all playing out just as planned, but without the suspects.
“Clear” rang through the house as room after room was checked.
“Where the hell did they go?” Pierre asked when they met in the living room, which had been ripped to hell, with huge holes in the walls and the carpet trashed. “We had eyes on them the whole time.”
Evan groaned. Someone had messed up, and he was sure this was going to end up coming down on his shoulders—not that he could blame anyone. The sheriff had gone out on a limb, and Evan could hear it snapping out from under him.
“Ravelle, Whitaker, you better come down here,” one of the deputies called. “Be careful, though.”
Evan made his way to the basement stairs, which were rickety beyond belief. He went down, shivering in the dusty, rustic space. “Damn it all….” Part of the foundation had been removed and shored up to leave a tunnel of sorts. Evan was willing to bet that they’d gotten out there and disappeared into the surrounding wooded area. It would have taken maybe a few minutes and they would be out.
“Check out in the woods,” Pierre ordered, but Evan was pretty sure their suspects were long gone. All that they were left with was a house that had been used to cook meth and little else. At least he hadn’t been wrong about what the house was being used for. That might keep his ass in one piece, but it was definitely going to get chewed on. He should have thought of an escape route and looked for it.
“Shit,” one of the men called from above as smoke billowed through the door. The deputies went up the steps, and they crashed back through to the dirt floor.
“Are both of you okay?” Evan asked, helping Phillips, the deputy nearest to him, to his feet. He brushed himself off, and Evan pointed him toward the tunnel. “Get the hell out of here. This place is going to be an inferno.” Already the roar of flames sounded overhead, and Evan hoped to hell everyone else got out, because this house was going to burn down around them otherwise. “You too.” He helped Pierre get Phillips out. He was covered in dirt and walking gingerly. “I’ll be right behind.”
Phillips went through the hole, and Evan pointed for Pierre to go next as embers and burning debris fell through the hole that had been the stairs. Already the air was fouling, the roar increasing from above. Evan bent and crawled along the dirt passage, and emerged to clouds of smoke whirling around them on the breeze. The others were already helping Phillips away from the conflagration, and the officers made their way around the edge of the property to where the rest of the responding team had gathered in front.
“IS EVERYONE out?” Evan asked, joining the other men as the old house nearly self-destructed. Before the fire department could arrive, the place was fully engulfed and the roof was already caving in. Just another craptastic thing to add to the list of the screwups of the day.
“Yes,” Pierre told him. “We aren’t getting anything from that scene, but everyone is safe.”
At least that was something. Too bad Phillips was injured.
“An ambulance is on the way,” Pierre relayed, and then acknowledged a radio confirmation.
“What the hell happened?” Evan asked, turning to the other deputies.
“Checking the last room in the back, I pulled open the closet, and it was rigged with lighter fluid,” Clay explained.
Evan nodded. There wasn’t a damned thing they could have done. This had clearly been planned, and they had fallen into it. “I want these sons of bitches so bad, I can taste it.” He clamped his jaws together in frustration.
“At least no one else will be using this place as a hideout.”
The fire department arrived, and the outer walls collapsed as they began spraying water. Evan dreaded the report he was going to have to write. A big, fat nothing. That was what they had, after weeks of work and all this effort—a pile of ash and no suspects.
A call came through the radio. “The suspects appear to have had cars waiting and are long gone.”
The nail in the coffin of this fucked-up day, and to make matters worse, the sky opened up, dumping a torrent of rain all over everything and everyone. Evan ran to the car, pulled on his rain gear, and waited while the fire department doused the remaining fire, which died quickly. Once he had secured the scene, he drove back to the station. It didn’t help his foul mood that the sheriff was waiting for him and he received the chewing out he expected.
“I’m not angry that the bust broke down, but you should have been more prepared and checked for an escape route. It’s pretty classic,” Briggs said when he calmed down. “Now we’ve got nothing at all. Most of the evidence burned in the fire, so we have little to track them with, and anything they left behind—”
“Sheriff,” Evan interrupted, “there is one thing they definitely left behind: the business itself. There’s no way they’re going to just walk away. They packed up shop in that location, but they’re still going to need to fill the demand they created, or someone else will step in.” At least he could track them through their product.
Sheriff Briggs leaned forward. “We’ve been dealing with these assholes for two years now, and every time we get close, they scamper away and crawl back under some rock, only to surface again. I want them stopped—now. So you figure out how in the hell we’re going to do that. People are scared, especially folks out in the county where they operate, and if we don’t put an end to this, then the people of this county are going to put an end to me.”
The truth was that Briggs had fought and worked hard for his job, and he deserved it, as far as Evan was concerned. The difficult part about this whole damned thing was disappointing the sheriff. The entire department respected him greatly. He wasn’t just ele
cted, but had been part of the department and knew the county like the back of his hand.
“And I thought we had them.”
“Which is when things usually fall apart.” Sheriff Briggs placed his hands on his desk. “Go back to the drawing board, and come up with a way to put an end to these guys.” His gaze bored into Evan. “This can’t be allowed to continue in this area. Whoever is behind this shit is making fools of us. They seem to know where we’re going to strike and are always one step ahead of us.”
“Yes. I know we had a leak that we plugged a while ago, but….” Evan was well aware that guys like these had plenty of money and were willing to spread it around to buy support and protection. It was also possible that they were using leverage of some sort against a cop or their family in order to gain cooperation. “I’ll go through everything again, and if there is someone working with these people, I’ll find them.” He set his jaw, knowing the look he was giving the sheriff. Turncoats absolutely made his blood boil. Evan believed in the brotherhood of officers, and someone like that put them all at risk.
“I’ll be doing the same. But as far as I can tell, it’s possible that they have deduced our movements and that we’re dealing with someone really smart who knows the area.” Sheriff Briggs leaned back in his chair.
“I agree.” The wheels were already turning. “Maybe we can put those two things together and come up with someone who might fit the bill. If they knew the area, especially between Carlisle and Newville….” An idea was forming, but Evan didn’t have quite enough information. He couldn’t track down every smart person in the damned county.
“I’d concentrate on people out near Newville and the surrounding area. See if anyone has seen anything or if they’ve noticed any suspicious activity. Talk to a few community leaders. It’s a small community, and people definitely talk. Someone out there knows who this guy is and is sheltering him right now. You know that, and so do I. There’s no way he can exist in the community unless that’s happening.”
“I’m on it.” Evan figured he was getting off lucky. Though this wasn’t directly his fault, it was his investigation, so he was responsible for the results—good and bad.
“Write your report and get it filed. Then go home and get some rest. Be here fresh in the morning, ready to take a new look at this.” Briggs turned to his computer, and Evan left his office.
“How bad was it?” Pierre asked as soon as he closed the door.
Evan shrugged. “The thing I can’t stand is letting Briggs down after he went to bat for me.” He’d had no way of knowing about the escape in the basement. The exit aboveground was surrounded by thick bushes, and it wasn’t likely to have been visible even from a drone. It happened, and they all needed to learn from it. “At least I’ll know what to look for next time.”
“That’s true.” Pierre turned, heading toward his desk, then paused. “Jordan asked me to remind you that we were supposed to have dinner tonight with his friend Marcus.”
Evan groaned. Everyone from his friends to his mother had decided to fix him up in the last three months. “I know I agreed, but another one?”
“Since your breakup with Antonio… well, you’re on the market and a catch.” Pierre grinned. Apparently any gay deputy who wasn’t currently in a relationship was a catch. Or maybe it was some sort of huge betting pool to see who could get Evan his next boyfriend. He wasn’t sure what the prize could be, though.
“Peachy,” he muttered. “Where are we meeting?”
“Café Belgie at six thirty.” Pierre walked back toward him. “And after this, I promise I’ll tell Jordan that this is the end. No more fixups. I had asked him not to do this, but you know Jordan when he sets his mind to something. He thinks you and Marcus will be perfect together. Though he said the same thing about Brad, and look how that turned out.” Pierre actually snickered, the bastard.
Brad was indeed a nice guy, at least in public, but in private he was bossy, egotistical, and thought that he was God’s gift to men in general and that they should all bow down before him… in more ways than one. Needless to say, he and Brad had had no additional dates.
“Yeah, thanks for that. If it’s that bad….” He trailed off into a growl.
“Don’t worry. Marcus is a nice guy.” Pierre hurried away, and Evan had plenty of time to wonder just what he might have meant by that. Was everything in his life turning into complete and total crap? He really hoped not, but things weren’t looking good.
EVAN HAD showered and changed clothes, then walked the three blocks to Café Belgie and went inside. “Hey, Billy.”
“Another fixup?” Billy asked.
“Yeah. Jordan is determined. Pierre says this is the last one, so maybe I’ll get lucky.” Evan wasn’t holding his breath.
When Billy motioned to the table back in the corner, he groaned as Marcus stood up. Their eyes met, and Marcus smiled and then laughed. Apparently neither of them had made the connection.
Evan approached the table. “Jordan, I take it you didn’t show Marcus here a picture.”
“No, why?”
“Because if you had, I could have told you that Evan and I dated for exactly a week about two months ago.” Marcus sat back down, and Evan took the seat that was designated for him. “Evan is a nice guy, but he and I… there isn’t that spark.” Thankfully, Marcus was as amused about this as he was, and Evan figured he could have a decent evening with friends and then go home.
“That’s enough fixups, Jordan,” Pierre said. “Evan knows that we love him.”
“Yeah, and he needs to find someone who will….” Jordan sighed. “I just want him to be as happy as I am.”
Sometimes Jordan was just adorable, and the way he gazed at Pierre, as though he were the center of the world, was nearly overwhelming. Yes, Evan wanted to find someone, but his luck with guys was so abysmal that he had pretty much given up. He had read somewhere that unhappiness was the difference between what you had and what you expected, and since he no longer expected to meet someone, he couldn’t classify himself as unhappy. Too bad everyone else seemed to.
“Where is Jeremiah tonight?” Evan asked, trying to change the subject. There was nothing he could do about this evening except make the best of it.
“He’s with the sitter. Before Megan got there, he was upset because we were leaving, but as soon as she arrived, that came to an end. They were playing games when we left, and he barely noticed us going.”
Pierre chuckled. “I think he likes her.”
Jordan shivered. “I don’t even want to think about that right now. He’s too young to be interested in girls already.” It was pretty clear that Jordan wasn’t ready for his son to enter that stage of life. Still, it was cute to see him a little flustered. Jordan was an amazing parent, and so was Pierre, for that matter.
“What have you been doing with yourself?” Marcus asked.
“Working a lot.” Evan so didn’t want to go into the mess that happened today. That was just something he wasn’t prepared for. He needed this to be a good evening, and thankfully Pierre seemed to have the same idea and mentioned nothing about it.
THE DINNER had been pleasant, but Evan was really happy to be home, where he could put his feet up and not have to worry about being on for someone else.
His phone rang as soon as he closed the front door, and Evan continued through his row house living room, dining room, and kitchen to the back sitting room, answering the phone as he flopped into his comfy chair. “Hey, Mom, isn’t it a little late?”
“It’s eleven, and I’m not so in my dotage that I don’t stay up to watch Conan. I like him. If I were younger, I’d probably take him for a test drive, maybe kick his tires a little.” She cackled, knowing that hearing her talk about men was a little discomforting for him. Evan had decided to ignore it, figuring it was just for effect. “I saw that you just got home.” His mother lived next door, and Evan figured her hobby was watching his comings and goings.
“Don’t you have a
nything better to do than watch for me?” he challenged.
“Oh, get over yourself. I just got home too. I was out with Hector. We went dancing at the VFW. They had a swing band, and that man has rhythm.”
Evan refused to think of just the kind of rhythm his mother was referring to.
“Were you out on a date?”
“Were you?” he retorted.
“Don’t be cheeky.” The delight in her voice told him that he’d hit the mark.
“When do I get to meet him so I can determine his intentions? I know the two of you have been out a couple of times, so you must enjoy his company.” Evan wasn’t letting just anyone date his mother.
“His intentions. Please…. First thing, I will decide what his intentions are, and secondly, he and I just went dancing. That’s all there is to it. You do not get to scare him off with all of that talk about being a cop… and don’t you dare run a background check on him.”
He had done that a few times.
“How am I supposed to know if he’s good enough for my mama if you don’t let me meet him and I can’t check him out? What if he’s some sort of serial killer?” He had to tease; it was too much fun. “Okay, Mom, no background checks—on one condition. No more fixups from you.”
He got silence in return.
“Okay,” she finally agreed. “But how am I supposed to get grandchildren? Your taste in men… well, it sucks and you know it. Sometimes I swear you’re a loser magnet. Look at the guys you’ve brought home and tell me I’m wrong.” She paused for dramatic effect, and Evan wished he could argue with her. The men he’d dated all started out nice and then morphed into the spawn of Satan. “So I asked your nice friends for help.”
“Yeah, and one of them fixed me up with a guy that I was already fixed up with,” he groused. “And how does me finding a guy get you grandchildren? You know there is no uterus involved, right?”
“Smartass. There are plenty of children that need good homes, and I will be a spectacular grandmother and you know it. Forget that milk-and-cookies crap—I’ll get a sidecar for the Harley and hit the road.”
