An Inner Fire (34 page)

“I’ll wait.”

“It’ll be a long wait. He’s on top with Toni.” He lowered his voice and leered at Grayce.

Grayce ignored Maclean’s coarse remark. “Please tell him I’ve an urgent message.”

She searched Maclean’s face. Nothing showed in the harsh angles, but the muscles in his jaw were clenched, deepening the jagged lines along his mouth.

“This way, Doctor.” He pointed to a metal door with a “No Entry” sign.

Mitzi brushed against her when they moved into the room. The dog’s presence steadied her. Equipment and clothes were strewn throughout the room, serving as the staging area for the firefighters. Maclean’s fury permeated the small space, making it hard for her to breathe. She tried to put some distance between them, backing further into the room.

“I don’t know when Davis will be finished.” Maclean emphasized “finished” with a fiendish laugh.

A bone cold chill ran up and down her spine, sending icy panic to every vertebra, every nerve pathway. How could she stop Maclean? If she tried anything, he would call security. She needed to find Davis. Where was James?

“As always, it was a pleasure, Dr. Walters.” Maclean closed the door. She heard the lock turn.

Adrenaline raced through her body, making her as queasy as if she were tilting with the rotating Space Needle.

One part of her mind screamed silently, the other was grimly aware that she was reliving her nightmare. She was too late to save Davis.

Chapter Fifty

James, in his favorite black skirt, silk blouse, red pumps and matching crimson Chanel lipstick, stood at the bottom of the stairwell leading to the top of the Space Needle. The flash of his volunteer I.D. for
The Outsider
had worked. He was about to interview Assistant Chief Maclean for Seattle’s gay newspaper. The security guard didn’t recognize the name of the newspaper and granted him admittance. The guard looked like more of a Sports Illustrated fan, probably the swimsuit edition.

“I’ll get Assistant Chief Maclean.”

“Oh, don’t bother Stewart. He’ll just get irritated with you. Give me a moment to get my camera,” James said.

He was lucky that he had packed his camera in his Prada bag, ready for the evening. He and his friends loved to be catty and dissect every ensemble.

James batted his two pairs of false eyelashes. “I’m ready to go up. Thank you for your patience. You’re such a thoughtful gentleman.”

The blonde’s sweet face colored with a charming pink. “Why don’t I go first…high heels on stairs can be tricky?”

James’ little black skirt was tight and short to emphasize his best attribute, his finely shaped legs highlighted by his red Alexander McQueen platforms. “Oh, how considerate of you to think of my modesty, but I’m really not shy.” James squeezed the guard’s arm.

The guard sounded breathless. “Hold on to the handrails. I wouldn’t want you to fall.”

From the bottom step, James watched the guard’s tight bum. He needed to stay focused on his mission. He was here to protect Grayce and possibly Davis. He found it hard to believe that Davis needed his help, but if Grayce had gotten herself into a dangerous situation, then he needed to be there for her.

He and the guard climbed two stairwells, each requiring an access code card. The fire department’s presence on the Needle had lessened the tight security practices or he never would’ve been able to finagle this easy
entrée
.

He was in drag at a fire department practice to rescue super hero Davis, and had no plan for what he was going to do once he got to the top. He might let Grayce explain, if she were up there. But she hadn’t answered her cell phone, and who knew where she could’ve gotten off to.

The guard lifted the heavy hatch, opening onto the dome.

“I can’t believe you were able to open that heavy door. You don’t look like you’re that strong. James ran his finger down the man’s arm. “Must be all lean muscle under that white shirt.”

The guard reached down and assisted James to the tower. “First I need you to rope up and you’ll need to stand right here. The firefighters will come to you.” The guard placed the rope over his head.

James gave his high pitched giggle. “How sweet of you to be concerned I might fall off. What a spectacular day.”

With the clear sky, James turned to take in both mountain ranges. Mount Rainier shined in all her glory as did Mount Baker. The sun dazzled the usual gray waters of Puget Sound.

“It’s stunning. I’m breathless.” He fluttered his hand on his well-padded chest.

Below them, two hunky firefighters and one tall blond woman stood chatting, unfazed by their precarious positions. The men were in T-shirts. And what specimens they were. This adventure surpassed Gay Bingo.

With the guard’s signal, the firefighters, well roped-in, scrambled up the angle of the dome with ease. Everyone here was real. And for a moment, James wanted to throw all pretense and glamour away and become something unvarnished and true. He quickly came to his senses as he watched the men’s thighs work. Yes, much better than Gay Bingo.

“James Dewitt, reporter for
The Outsider
.”

The tall blond woman eyed him. “We already did a photo shoot this morning. We’re wrapping up.” Her stare was disconcerting. It took all his self-control not to check whether his boobs were still in place. Grateful for the rope snuggly wrapped around his waist since he was having trouble balancing in his McQueen platforms on the uneven surface.

The hunky firefighter, with dark sultry eyes, asked, “
The Outsider
?”

“It’s really a personal piece: Why would you want to risk your gorgeous selves?”

He needed to tone it down. But this was way too much fun. “I’m really here to interview Assistant Chief Maclean. Where is the chief and has my photographer arrived?”

“Maclean is giving an interview for the gay newspaper? I don’t believe it.” The hunky stud laughed.

“I’m supposed to meet the assistant chief here. We tried to call him on the walkie-talkie. He hasn’t responded,” James said.

“Maclean’s probably down directing Davis.”

The blond bombshell chimed in. “Davis will love that.”

“Where is Davis?”

“You know Davis?” The gargantuan woman scrutinized him from his Alexander pumps to his fabulous blond wig. He couldn’t be sure if she saw him as competition or knew he was in drag.

“I’ve a mild acquaintance with him.” He rolled his eyes, implying the opposite. “Do you know where my photographer or Davis might be?”

The security guard stood close to James. “There was no photographer. Assistant Chief Maclean allowed a woman access. She said she and the poodle were part of the rescue team.”

He and the blond both turned at the same time to look at the security guard.

“She must still be at the mezzanine area,” the guard said.

James didn’t like the sound of Grayce meeting Maclean. “I need to find my photographer. Will you excuse me?” The situation grew more ridiculous. But what did you say in such circumstances. As Miss Manners would say, good manners never fail. “Thank you. Will Davis be down there too?”

“Davis is on the halo, about to fall off. I’m waiting to rappel down and rescue him.” The blond stuck out her generous chest when she announced her forthcoming rescue. Definitely marking her territory.

For the first time since reaching the top, James felt a tingling weakness behind his knees. “How does Davis fall off?”

The dark-eyed, handsome dude spoke, “He’s roped, as a Space Needle engineer would be who’s working on the halo. And like a worker who might slip or get injured, Davis will fall and dangle. Toni will rappel down with that basket and rescue the victim, taking him to the ground.” He pointed to a steel cage placed next to a neatly coiled rope.

He didn’t like the sound of Davis dangling. There were too many possibilities for mistakes.

He had no doubt that Toni could save Davis, but only if she had a chance. He needed to get down. “I’m so impressed.” He meant it.

“I’ve got to get my photographer and get down to the halo. I want to get shots of you coming over the edge. The angle will be fabulous.” He had no damn idea what the halo was but he needed to find Grayce and get to Davis. “See you down at the halo.”

James took the two steps to the hatch. The security guard took his arm. “I’ll go first.”

He didn’t have time for flirty games. “Thank you.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Harnessed, roped, and tethered to a steel wire, Davis was perched on the edge of the flying saucer disc that surrounded the Space Needle. The crowd, five hundred and twenty feet below, looked more like scurrying beetles than people.

He waited for the signal to drop.

He wasn’t nervous about the dangle. The operation was an efficient, well-run drill. From years of climbing, he knew every detail of every sequence. His body was primed. His senses heightened. His heart pumped against his chest, his muscles were tensed, as if ready to climb Mount Rainier.

Hyper-vigilant, he decided to walk the halo one last time. He had already inspected the entire surface of the three-foot wide, angled platform. He paid particular attention to the tensile steel cable encircling the halo. The thin wire must support his body weight when he hung suspended. He had found no hint of tampering.

He had also checked his own equipment. Harness, rope, and the carabineer connecting his nylon rope to the safety wire were in perfect working condition. All appeared secure. He trusted Toni’s ability, assigned to rappel down for his rescue.

Tourists waved through the wire mesh and glass to Davis from the observation deck. Not feeling particularly social, he forced a smile and a nod.

What could Maclean possibly try with hordes of witnesses watching within a hand’s reach?

He stood at the outer perimeter of the halo, gusts of wind whipped through his hair. Nothing stood between him and the one hundred and forty yards of hard ground below.

He wanted this whole damn business to be finished, so he could get on with his life. When this case was over, he was ready to grovel, beg, do anything to have Grayce back. He was glad she’d remained out of the investigation and safely at home with Mitzi. Wait a second, Grayce was supposed to bring Mitzi to his office today. And he’d forgotten, what with his entire focus on this Space Needle practice rescue. He felt a sinking sense of helplessness at the thought of Grayce believing he had forgotten her. How was he ever going to be able to explain to her? He shook his head and forced all thoughts of Grayce from his mind. He couldn’t afford any distractions during this critical event.

Restless, he walked around the corner to find Whit, Lieutenant of Ladder Seven, and Maclean in discussion. Whit nodded and climbed through the exit. What the hell? He had counted on having Whit watching his back while he dangled.

He couldn’t see Maclean’s face, but somehow he knew the man would be flashing his condescending smirk. He moved toward Maclean, ready for the confrontation.

Maclean stood in full uniform, his posture erect in his harness. He exuded his usual arrogance and confidence. Davis’ blood ran hard and fast through him. The bastard was up to something.

“This is it, Davis.”

Davis, set his feet apart, readying himself for the battle. He tried to hide his antagonism, his need to bloody Maclean’s face. “Are they ready for me to go over?”

“Not yet. We’re evacuating the observation deck. We don’t want the tourists upset by your fall.”

The hair on his neck and arms bristled in warning. “I was surprised you wanted me to participate in this drill.”

Maclean peered over the edge. “Quite a drop. 520 feet.”

Cold drips of sweat gathered under his arm pits. “Where’s Whit?”

“He’s coordinating the evacuation with the Needle’s security team.”

“Isn’t that your job?”

Maclean’s polished veneer of superiority disappeared. He squared his shoulders, and jutted his pointed chin. His voice was rougher. “Very good, Davis. Two years with the department and you’re ready to run it.”

“Whit’s my climbing partner.”

“After 23 years with the department, I decide who’s here and who’s not. Face it Davis, it’s finished.” Maclean’s face was harsh. “You’re in it up to your eyeballs for the shed fire and Benson’s death.” Maclean inched towards him, his dark eyes filled with contempt. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but the chief told me this morning that you’re dirty. You son of a bitch.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The chief received a note from Benson, written before he died, pinning both fires on you. You hired him to burn the shed for the Russian’s drug dealing operation.”

Maclean’s accusation hit him like a kick to the groin. His stomach contracted and his lungs stopped moving. He was air-hungry, breathless although wind blew across his face.

“The only reason you’re part of this practice is because the chief didn’t want to cancel…too costly. You’re not to leave my sight, and I’m to escort you back to the department once we’re finished here.”

A cold draft blew down his neck, chilling him. The wind was picking up. “And where’s this note?”