Burn for You (39 page)

Jason’s chest tightened to the point of suffocation. He’d seen that pained expression on McCann’s face before. Almost twenty years ago when he’d sat him and Preston down and told them Luke St. James had died in a car wreck.

“No.” Denial was all Jason could manage. “No.”

McCann glanced at the paramedic. “Hey, you mind giving us a minute?”

The young guy nodded and hurried off to be of use elsewhere.

McCann sat down next to Jason, rubbing his thumb over the melted plastic.

“What is that?” Jason asked, his voice like sandpaper.

McCann squinted, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “It’s what’s left of her radio.”

“No.” He shook his head. “No. It can’t be.”

“They found it in the rig, Jason.”

“No.” He practically shouted the word as if saying it louder could make it more true. Squeezing his head with his hands, he tried to contain the volcano inside. This wasn’t happening. She couldn’t be gone. She didn’t know. He hadn’t told her yet. Hadn’t told her that he loved her. Loved her more than life. More than anything.

McCann put an arm around Jason’s shoulders. “Dammit. Jase, I’m so sorry.”

Moaning, Jason rocked back and forth, trying to hold himself together when it felt as if his chest had been sliced open and his beating heart removed.

McCann’s hold tightened, and he wrapped both arms around Jason, rocking with him. Exactly as he had almost two decades before. “I’m so sorry, son. I’m so sorry, but…she’s gone.”

“No.” If she was gone, he’d never see that smile again. Never see the laughter in her warm brown eyes. Never hear the words
I love you
falling from her lips.

If she was gone, he’d never hold her in his arms and say those words right back.

“No,” Jason said again. And then, raising his gaze to the sky, he screamed it.

* * *

Eyes burning, Victoria held what she hoped was a dust cloth to her face. It would’ve made a better filter if it was wet, but she hadn’t been able find anything other than cleaning chemicals in the closet. Breathing Clorox wasn’t going to be any better than breathing smoke.

Feeling her way in the darkness, she continued her search. Was it too much to ask for a few tools in a janitor’s closet? A crowbar? A hammer? Anything to help a girl out?

Her fingers caught a metal cylinder shape by the door. The hinges. The door hinges were on the inside. Hallelujah. If she could get the pins out, she might be able to pry the door open just enough to get out.

Hooking her fingernails under the flat head of the pin, she pulled up, but it wasn’t enough leverage. Her fingernails bent back and her grip slipped off.

Smoke continued to seep in from under the door and with it came a sliver of light from the hall. Enough light that her eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark closet. Blinking fast to clear her vision, she scanned the shelves to her right. Seeing a toolbox on the bottom, she dropped to her knees and flung it open.

She grabbed the first screwdriver she saw and went back to the door hinges. Placing the tip of the screwdriver up against the bottom of the pin, she pushed up. The pin moved a fraction of an inch. She continued tapping, again and again, making a little more progress each time.

How long had she been trapped? And how long would it take for the fire Bines had set to get to her? He hadn’t used an accelerant or she would’ve been toast by now. He must’ve improvised. He certainly hadn’t had anything with him other than his gun.

Maybe she’d get lucky and his makeshift fire wouldn’t take. Then again, if smoke was already filling the office space…

Anxious to escape, she abandoned the cloth she’d been holding over her nose and mouth and used both hands to work on pulling the pin from the hinge.

Losing the cloth was a mistake. She coughed and her eyes started to water, but she worked the first pin free. Only two more to go.

Any hope that Bines’ fire would peter out on its own quickly disintegrated as more smoke filled the tiny closet. Lungs burning, she focused on the second pin. A coughing fit made it difficult to keep the screwdriver in place, and when it slipped, she scraped the back of her hand on the metal hinge. She cursed, knowing she’d drawn blood.

Holding her breath, trying not to breathe in any more smoke, she pulled hard on the head of the pin. After a few good tugs it came free and she stood to work on the last pin. This one was easier because she was already under it and had better leverage to push the pin up with the screwdriver.

Dizziness overcame her. She swayed on her feet just as the last pin fell to the ground.

Hold on. She just had to hold on for a few more seconds.

Finding her cloth again, she covered her mouth and nose and jammed the screwdriver into the crack between the door and the doorjamb. Using it like a crowbar, she got the door open a crack. A sliver. A useless fucking half an inch.

And an opening that let in more smoke.

God-fucking-dammit.

She tried again.

“Russo! Russo! You in here?”

She tried to yell, but another coughing spasm took hold of her lungs and trapped her words. She banged on the door instead.

“Russo?” It was Flaherty.

More coughing. “In here!”

Working her fingers into the small crack she’d made, she pulled again. The door opened further, but with the bolt still locked on the opposite side, it wasn’t coming free as easily as it should.

She put all her weight into it, working the opening enough that she could squeeze into the open space. The wood trim where the bolt was secured cracked and splintered, and the door came free. “Flaherty—” She coughed some more, stumbling into the hallway. “Over here!”

He turned and saw her, but with the smoke and flames between them, she had no idea how they’d get out. Seemingly oblivious to the danger, Flaherty rushed toward her, jumped the flames, and caught her just as the world went black.

Chapter 29

Coming to in the ambulance, Victoria pulled the oxygen mask away from her face. “Jason?”

Flaherty leaned over her. “How ya doing, kiddo?”

“Do you—” She swallowed and tried again. “Do you know if Jason’s okay?”

“He’s fine. He was looking for you actually.”

“The car bombs…he was so close to where…”

“I know, but he’s okay, Russo. I promise. I saw him looking for you in the parking lot. That’s why I started looking for you.”

The gurney beneath her shook gently as the ambulance weaved through traffic.

“How’d you find me?” she asked.

“I had a bad feeling about Bines this morning. He was a little too excited about everything. A little too giddy about the press conference and all the activity.” Flaherty arranged the oxygen mask back on her face and checked the reading on the pulse oximeter. Satisfied with what he saw, he returned his gaze to her face. “I was trying to keep an eye on him today. I had my suspicions, but there was just too much going on.”

She pulled the oxygen mask away again. “It’s not your fault—”

“Shh.” He put the mask back on her face. “Shut your pie hole, Russo.” Something that looked like it might’ve resembled a teasing grin twitched at his mouth.

Victoria raised her eyebrows and smiled behind the mask.

“Anyway, I saw him coming back to the scene and asked him where he’d been. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer, and that’s when I noticed the bulge of a gun at his back. At that point, my questioning got a little more…creative.”

This time, when she pulled the mask away, he let her. “He did it, Mike. I saw him under the ambulance just before it blew up. He put something there.”

“I know. He confessed.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, no. After I turned his gun on him.” The almost-grin returned, but he quickly turned serious again. “I told him if he’d killed anyone on my team, I’d put a bullet in his head and gladly go to prison for it. He coughed up your location pretty quick then. Good thing too, because he’d disabled the fire alarms. It would’ve been a long time before anyone knew there was a fire there. Especially since the building was empty.”

“Where is he now?”

“Police custody. They’re going to want to talk to you and get a statement when we get to the hospital.”

She nodded. “He did a lot of talking, Mike. He’s a serial arsonist. Been doing shit like this on a much smaller scale for years.”

Flaherty’s eyes narrowed. “Son of a bitch.”

She nodded. “I know. It’s the worst sort of betrayal.”

Flaherty was silent and she knew the anger was eating at him. A military guy like him would hold a leader personally responsible for the safety of his men. What Bines had done—purposefully putting his people in harm’s way—there could be no greater sin.

“I haven’t thanked you yet,” she said. “For what you did back there.”

He waved her off.

“I mean, you’re a complete frickin’ idiot for going in there without any turnout gear on, but thank you.”

“Hey, I never said I was smart.” His gray eyes met hers. “But I never leave one of my own behind.”

It felt as if she’d just been given Flaherty’s highest stamp of approval. To be counted as one of his own.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you, Russo. It’s just…I guess…I’ve always found it really easy to believe the worst of people.”

“Well,” she said softly. “It’s lucky you have me for a friend then.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m really good at seeing the best in people. I’ll help you out.”

He grinned. The first honest-to-goodness smile she’d ever seen cross his face. “Is that right?”

“Yes, it is. But you’re going to have to shut up now. Because all this being nice to me crap is kind of freaking me out.”

“Shut up and leave the damn mask on, Russo.”

“That’s better,” she said, her voice muffled by the mask he’d just snapped back on her face.

* * *

All she wanted was to find Jason, but Flaherty insisted she see a doctor, and since he was currently standing guard at the edge of the exam room curtain, her chances of escape were slim.

“Jesus. I know there’s been a fucking catastrophe, but seriously, how long does it take to get a doctor over here?”

“Mike, I told you I’m fine. Can’t we just bounce? They’ve got their hands full with much more serious injuries than mine.”

They knew from talking to the triage nurse that no one who’d been brought to the hospital had died. There’d been a few serious burn victims though. There might be confirmed deaths later, but she prayed for a miracle.

“Smoke inhalation is no joke, Russo. You might seem fine now, but your symptoms could get worse. I just want you checked out by a professional.”

“But we’re the professionals. And I say I’m fine.” She started to slide off the gurney, but stopped when she saw Flaherty’s glare. “Okay. Okay. Fine.”

She asked to borrow his cell so she could call Jason and let him know where she was, but Jason didn’t answer. He was probably still on scene. She sent a text, but it also went unanswered.

He must be busy. He’d had a hell of a day already. Flaherty had told her that it was Jason’s idea to clear the parking lot, and that once the explosions started, he’d run through the parking lot warning others to get out of their cars. His quick action had likely prevented a horrible situation from becoming a much bigger tragedy.

She couldn’t wait to hold him in her arms and tell him how proud she was of him. But since she couldn’t, she settled for one last text.

Call me when you’re done at the scene. I’ve got Flaherty’s phone. Love you.

Sighing, she passed the phone back to Flaherty and entertained herself by watching the activity in the ER through the partially open curtain.

After a few minutes of people watching, a very solemn Nick walked by. He looked wrecked, his posture stooped, his walk slow and shuffling. Had he known one of the people brought in with severe burns?

“Nick?”

He glanced at Victoria and then did a quick double take, his face going white as a sheet.

“Nick, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Victoria?”

“Yeah, you okay?”

“Oh, my God. Victoria. You—Jason—”

“What about Jason?” She slid off the gurney. “I thought he was okay.” She darted a questioning glance between Flaherty and Nick. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“No,” Nick said. “I mean, yes. He’s okay, but Victoria, he thinks you’re dead.”

“What?”

“He saw the ambulance blow up. They found your radio inside. He thinks…”

“Oh, my God. Nick, where is he?”

She started for the hall, but Nick took her gently by the shoulders. “Listen, Victoria. He’s in bad shape. You can’t just pop in there and say, ‘Surprise, I’m alive.’”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to do that.”

“I’m serious. He’s a mess. McCann told me he tried to run into the fire for you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, McCann said it took four men to hold him back. He literally went insane trying to get to you. He screamed your name until they dragged him away. And…”

“And what?”

“McCann brought him in because…”

“Because what?”

“He wanted him evaluated,” Nick said, his voice low. “He thinks he’s a suicide risk.”

“You mean, he’s here? He’s at the hospital?”

“Yes, but—”

“Where? Where is he? Tell me right now.”

“Victoria, wait. You need to know. I’m not being dramatic when I say he’s in bad shape. He hasn’t spoken since shortly after McCann found your radio. I was just with him for half an hour and he didn’t move, didn’t say one word. It’s like he’s…catatonic.”

“No, oh no.” Panic clogged her throat. She had to get to him. “Tell me where he is,” she rasped.

Nick pointed to the far end of the hall. “Exam two. You want me to come with you?”

“No, I think I’d like to see him in private, but thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll hang out in the waiting room if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

Legs feeling wobbly, Victoria made her way down the hall to exam two. The curtain was open a few inches and she peered inside, trying to prepare herself for the Jason she would meet.

He sat with his legs hanging over the side of the gurney, his beautiful blue eyes staring off at nothing. He was bare-chested, his t-shirt in a wrinkled pile next to him. It looked like the ER staff had tried to ease the redness on his arms with some cool cloths, but those were in a crumpled heap on the floor. His forearms were covered in little black specks. The singed remains of his arm hair. But the bandage on his hand was fresh, and he had other bandages on his chest where he’d likely been hit during the explosions.