The Wrong Side of Dead (24 page)

Jess looked for anything familiar to orient her, but as she crept down the basement stairs, she saw the fire had changed everything. The ventilation system that had been her ears when she was a tormented child now belched smoke that made it hard to see. And sections of the ceiling had collapsed, sending heaps of fiery debris to the cement. Walls had started to catch fire.

But she had to focus and keep going.

Into the cavernous space, she felt her way along the basement wall toward the back. Although the smoke was still bad, the heat from the fire was less intense than it had been on the floor above. And with pockets of flame burning, they made the room bright enough to catch murky glimpses through the deepening haze.

The conditions were marginal, but she had made the right choice—for now.

She kept one hand on Seth and led the way until she found what she was looking for—the familiar wooden post that marked the spot. When she stopped and tugged at Harper’s jeans, he collapsed next to her, coughing out of control. But he still held his father in his arms, with her jacket covering the old man’s face and head.

“Hang on, Harper. I’m getting you and Max out of here,” she promised.

After giving Seth a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder, Jess helped place his father on the floor, propped against a brick wall. Harper slumped next to Max and managed to say “Thanks” before a brutal coughing jag took over. Seeing him so drained scared the hell out of her.

When she felt the others settle next to Seth, she counted heads and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized everyone had made it. But Sam worried her. Unlike her normal feisty self, her friend slid to the floor, exhausted. And her face was streaked with tears, the soot leaving dark tracks on her cheeks. She leaned closer to brush back Sam’s hair.

“Catch your breath…and pray. God might still listen to you.” She kissed her on the forehead and got down to the business of survival.

Jess ran shaky fingers along the basement wall, feeling for every crack and crevice. But when she felt a faint breeze brush her skin, she knew she’d found it—the hole that had given her hope all those years ago—the one she had made as a child.

“This is it,” she muttered. When someone touched her shoulder, she turned to see Alexa.

“What is?” The woman dropped to her knees, gasping for air.

She groped for Alexa’s hand and helped her find the small gash in the brick wall.

“It isn’t much,” the blonde whispered, low enough so the others wouldn’t hear. “But what’s your plan?”

“Help me.”

She stood and led Alexa to the wooden post behind them, using her friend as balance when she lifted her leg to kick the base of a two-by-four that had once been part of a storage shelving unit. The base of it had been cemented into the floor. Once Alexa figured out what she was doing, she helped with a few well-placed kicks of her own. Jess heard a crack and grappled the post with her hands, rocking it hard. After it broke free and dropped to the floor, she picked it up and hauled it back to the brick wall with Alexa’s help.

“Use it…as a battering ram,” she explained as her lungs heaved for air. “We’ll need…help.”

Hands came through the shadows and hoisted the two-by-four from her arms.

“I’ll take the front.” Jake intervened and held the post. “Show me where to hit.”

After telling the man what to do, Alexa jumped in behind him and Jess took up the rear. They gripped the makeshift battering ram tight and made their first strike. She had visions of the wall crumbling away, but that didn’t happen. They struck the brick again and again.

In the dark, she couldn’t tell if they were making progress. She had to leave that up to Jake.

Grit caked her face and arms as sweat poured off her body. And with each driving blow, she felt more drained. The smoke-filled air made it hard to breathe, and every effort depleted her strength. Every time the post hit the wall, a jolt of pain radiated through her arms and shoulders. And wood splinters sliced into her hands with every jarring shove. But she gritted her teeth through the pain and fought back even harder with the next impact.

While they pounded the outer wall, Sam and Seth staggered to their feet, and yelled, “Help us. We’re down here…in the basement.” They screamed, and made noise any way they could. “Please…help us.”

But after a while Jake stopped and raised his hand. In a strong voice, he cried, “Hold it. I hear somethin’.”

Jess winced and blinked her stinging eyes, listening. And in the dark someone gripped her sore, splintered hand. She held her breath and shut her eyes to focus until she heard a rhythmic clinking. The sound was muffled yet clear. And it was far too steady to be an accident.

“What’s that?” she asked, her eyes welling with tears of her own.

Ray had run through a stand of trees that separated the back of the Millstone property from the nearest neighbor. The tactical team had set up a perimeter around the premises that had made it difficult to cross without being noticed—but not impossible.

With crowbar in hand, he had picked his spot to give him the best advantage while staying under the radar of the men on duty. Ray saw his opportunity and took it, closing in on the rear wall of the mansion as he stuck to the shadows. The fire had ravaged most of the old home, and the upper floors had started to crater.

But as he crept along the outside wall, he had heard a loud thud. He’d stopped to listen, and distant voices screamed up through the ground—an eerie sound like a message from the grave.

“Sam?”

Using the light off the fire, he found bricks shoved through cracked mortar near ground level but thought his eyes had played tricks on him—a distortion caused by the shadowy fingers of the blaze. Hearing the voices made him take a second look. With his crowbar, he pounded the mortar around the rupture, feeling every vibrating jolt through his muscles. When metal contacted stone, shards of brick flew, and mortar dust hung in the air.

“Sam, are you down there?” he cried, not caring if anyone heard him now.

Jess peered through the haze and saw the small hole she’d started all those years ago cave through when the end of a crowbar wedged into the crack and pried it open. Outside, the silhouette of a man jabbed at the shaft, his body backlit by the night sky. And for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she felt a cool breeze stroke her cheek.

“Oh my God, we’re getting out of here,” she whispered.

Tears stung her eyes, but as Jess reached out a hand to help the man outside clear the opening, she got pushed aside and fell to the cement floor. Jake had tossed their battering ram to the ground, shoving her and Alexa aside. He yanked at the remaining bricks to make an opening wide enough for him to crawl through.

“Me first.” He hoisted his body up and flung his bulk through the hole, not caring about anyone else. “I did the work.”

Jess knew that by the time they all got to safety, the bastard would be long gone. And they’d be back at square one to build a case that would free Harper. Seth would be walking into the hands of the cops who were trying to arrest him—too worried about his father to give a damn about what would happen to him. And without Jake’s side of the story, they’d have little proof to shed light on Mandy’s and Jade’s murders.

“Damn it,” she cursed under her breath as she watched Jake fade into the blackness outside.

When the bricks fell away, black smoke rushed out and made it hard for Ray to see. He waved off the haze and leaned to look inside for Sam, but a man muscled through the gaping hole. It happened so fast that he got the sense the guy was making a break for it. Ray tried to block him, but got shoved out of the way.

“Hey…Police. Who’re you?” he demanded.

The guy didn’t answer, but turned to face him. And in a sudden move, he took a swing. Ray ducked and only caught a glancing blow, but didn’t have time to pull his service weapon. Reacting on instinct, he whipped out his crowbar.

“Ah, shit.” The man’s eyes grew wide and he turned to run.

In one motion, Ray snagged his ankle with the curved end of the crowbar and yanked him off his feet. The bastard hit the ground hard and lay stunned. He wedged the crowbar between his shoulder and neck, pinning him to the ground. And without hesitation, he wrenched an arm back and secured the guy’s hands with the Flexicuffs he carried on his belt.

“I wasn’t doin’ nothin’,” he protested, his face in the mud.

“You always take a swing at cops?” Ray shook his head. “Not smart, man.”

“I didn’t hear you…when you said you were a cop. I swear.”

“Yeah, right.” He grappled with the guy’s ankles and bound them, too. “Now you’ll stay put.”

While he worked, he yelled over his shoulder, “Sam? Can you hear me?”

“Ray? Is that…you?” Sam fought a lump in her throat as she called out, “We’ve got Max Jenkins down here…and he needs help. He can’t walk.”

Sam helped the others hoist Max through the opening. His body was fragile and small, but in her condition, she felt the strain. With Ray’s help, they were all lifted from the basement, one by one, with Sam the last one through the hole. Ray pulled her from the darkness into the night air.

She wanted nothing more than to collapse into his arms, and Ray didn’t disappoint her. He pulled her to his chest and lifted her off the ground, cradling her in his arms. The feel of his body next to hers sent a surge of adrenaline rushing through her veins.

“I thought I was never…” She couldn’t finish.

He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her—hard and sweet. His tongue caressed hers, and as tears trailed down her face, he kissed her cheeks and eyelids. And when he nuzzled her neck with his warmth, he whispered a rush of Spanish into her ear with such tenderness that she swore she understood every word.

“Oh, Ray.”

She ran her fingers through his thick dark hair and drank in the scent of his skin, already addicted to his body and the way he made her feel. Over the years they’d worked together, a friendship had been the start of her feelings for him. They had their differences, but she’d seen his respect for her blossom. And on the occasions he’d let it show, she’d seen an arousing hunger in his eyes and knew he wanted her. The feeling was mutual.

But being in his arms now felt so right. And when he kissed her, Sam knew she’d fallen in love with Ray Garza—even before they’d had their first official date.

While a paramedic examined her, Alexa watched Seth Harper with his confused father. They were sitting on the back of the next ambulance. The old man looked rough, but he had survived the ordeal without suffering from smoke inhalation or burns. The same couldn’t be said for the man’s son.

The paramedic would be taking Seth to the hospital, accompanied by Chicago’s Finest. The police had him under arrest until they sorted things out. And his head trauma, with the likelihood of a concussion, had topped any incidental injuries caused by the fire and forced him to undergo further medical treatment. But at least he wouldn’t see the inside of a jail cell for a day or two.

Yet despite the trouble staring him in the face, she knew Seth was more worried about his father. If he could have refused treatment to take care of Max, he would have done it; but CPD had already made the call, and Harper wouldn’t have his say.

“If it helps, I can take care of your father, see that he gets home.” Alexa smiled at Seth. “Looks like you’ll have your hands full.”

He looked up in surprise as if he was seeing her for the first time. His dark eyes took her in and held her in place, rooted where she stood. His good looks were stunning up close. Add boyish charm to his innocent sex appeal, and Seth Harper fascinated her, especially when she realized that she’d been holding her breath. No wonder Jessie had become so attached to him.

“That would be great.” He fixed his gaze on her, working magical powers he probably didn’t know he had. “He’s at the Golden Palms Villa Nursing Home. I’ll get you the address…and thanks. They’re probably real worried about him by now. I’ll call to let them know you’re bringing him.”

“And you better give me your keys to the van,” she added. “Jessie will need her wheels. Preferably a vehicle not reported as stolen.” When he looked confused, she added, “It’s…complicated.”

“Yeah…well, I’m not exactly in the mood for complicated.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “You’ve been a good friend to Jessie. She could use one.”

He slumped against the door of the ambulance, looking exhausted. When he winced in pain, she took it as a sign for her to leave him alone. A real pity.

“Well…I’ll make sure she gets these.” She jingled the keys in her hand. “You take care of yourself.” She reached out a hand and touched his face. The gesture surprised him, but when he looked at her, he smiled.

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded. “And thanks…Alexa.”

With Sam at his side, Ray escorted Jake in cuffs to a waiting officer, who took the man into custody. Breathing in the night air had revived her, but not half as much as seeing Ray up close and feeling his hand at the small of her back. Considering what had nearly happened, she felt lucky to be alive. And although having someone take care of her now wasn’t entirely necessary, it did feel damned good to let go—just this once.

“From his ID, he’s Jake Culver. Get him checked by the paramedic before we take him for a ride,” he told the officer, then pointed a finger at her. “And you’re next. No argument.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted.

“Detective Garza?” An officer from the tactical team waved Ray over to another squad car. And Sam came along, not wanting to let him out of her sight.

“Thought you should know,” the cop said. “We found a guy on the premises. He claims not to know anything about what happened in there, but he was behaving suspiciously so we’re bringing him in for questioning. He’s got no ID and was not in a sharing mood.”

Sam leaned down to get a better look into the vehicle and a cop flipped on an interior light. She squinted into the backseat, but smiled and shook her head at the man who avoided her eyes.

“That’s Sal Pinzolo.” She stood and told Ray and the other officer. “He’s muscle for Nadir Beladi, a major drug dealer who runs hookers, too. Jessie thought the guy might have something to do with Mandy Vincent’s murder and gave me his driver’s license to run.”