Winter's Fire (Welcome to Covendale #7) (12 page)

The fist in his gut bent him double and knocked the breath from him.

“Get him up.”

One of the thugs grabbed a handful of hair and jerked him upright. No longer grinning, Ethan extended an arm behind him—and someone placed a crowbar in it. “I’m gonna break something important now,” he said. “Guess you’ll have to take a vacation. And while you’re gone, you think about whether you really want to come back.”

“I swear to God,” Adam snarled. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”

Ethan paused and blinked once. “Her?”

A familiar wailing sound rose in the air. Sirens, approaching fast. “Cops!” someone shouted. The grip on him eased, and he was shoved to the ground. Running feet crunched on gravel.

He was
not
going to let Ethan get away.

Adam rolled and sprang to his feet, ignoring the pain. He spotted Ethan rounding the front of the car, headed for the driver’s side. Teeth clenched, he took a step back and jumped onto the hood. Two strides brought him across to land in front of Ethan, between him and the door.

“You dented my fucking car,” Ethan said with stupid, stoned amazement.

Adam lunged at him, knocking him down just as the sirens cut out and tires rolled into the lot. Ethan bucked and twisted, still trying to throw punches. With a harsh growl, Adam rolled him facedown and knelt on his back, grabbed his arms and pinned his wrists behind him.

The bar’s back door opened, and Matt the bartender rushed out. “I called the cops, man. They—oh. They’re here already.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Adam held grimly onto Ethan as his struggles weakened. “Little help here?” he shouted, hoping the deputies could hear him by now.

Footsteps approached at a jog and Nick Donovan dropped beside him, a pair of cuffs in his hands. “We got him,” he said, snapping one of the bracelets on Ethan’s wrist. “Stand clear, all right?”

Grunting, Adam stood and staggered back as Nick’s partner, Dean Wesley, came around the other side to help drag Ethan away.

“Thought I told you to stay out of trouble, son.”

Adam grimaced and turned to find Sheriff Tanner behind him. “Hey, I tried,” he said. “Trouble came to me.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you had real important business at the bar.” The sheriff frowned and folded his arms. “You look like hell. Do you need medical attention?”

“No. I’m good.”

“Then I guess you can come down to the station and give me your statement.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I guess I can.”

“Come on. You can ride with me.”

Adam almost protested. But he realized maybe driving wasn’t such a good idea right now—he was stiff and sore, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire. “All right,” he said. “Thanks.”

He followed the sheriff to the waiting cruiser, thinking it’d been worth it. He’d taken a beating—but Ethan was in custody. He couldn’t hurt Winter now.

Unofficially, it was over.

* * * *

Winter sat in Chief Smallwood’s office, a polite smile frozen on her face as the man droned on about budget cuts and funding sources. Adam should’ve been back by now. She couldn’t imagine anything happening to him between the sheriff’s and the fire station—but Ben’s “accident” had occurred while he was driving.

She snuck another glance at the wall clock, and her blood ran colder. It’d been almost an hour since he said he’d be right back.

“…have to ask Goddard about that.”

The name snagged her attention, and she focused fully on the chief. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“I said, if you want to know about accident cleanups, you’d have to ask Ethan Goddard. He signs off on those.”

She stopped breathing. The missing signatures did belong to Ethan—who hadn’t come to work today. He was out there somewhere…and so was Adam.

Chief Smallwood frowned. “Am I keeping you from something, Miss Solomon?”

“No,” she rasped, and then cleared her throat sharply. “No, I—”

The phone on the chief’s desk rang, and she jumped.

“Excuse me a second.” Smirking, the man picked up the handset and spoke into it. “Fire, Chief Smallwood.”

She watched his face change from mild annoyance to concern, and then to near anger. “They’re both down there?” he said. “How bad is it? Anyone hurt?”

No!
She wanted to scream. Somehow, she knew the call involved Adam.

“All right,” the chief said. “I’ll be right down. Thanks, Brad.”

He’d no sooner hung up the phone than Winter demanded, “What happened?”

“You seem a little involved, for an insurance investigator,” he said. “Apparently Rhodes and Goddard got into it at the Klinker.”

“They
what
?”

“They had a fight. Goddard’s in custody, and Rhodes…” Chief Smallwood looked away. “He’s okay. A bit banged up.”

She stood so fast, the chair nearly fell over. “Where is he?”

“At the sheriff’s station.” The chief pushed back from his desk. “I’m headed that way,” he said. “You can ride with me, if you want.”

Her heart pounded so hard, she could barely make sense of the words—but there was something in the man’s tone she didn’t like. “That’s all right,” she said, speaking carefully as she fought against panic. She had to get to Adam, right now. “Thank you, but I’ll drive.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Yes. See you there.”

She rushed out of the office, heading for the stairs to the ground floor. She wanted to tell Dom what happened—not that she knew, exactly. But he was out on a call, which was why she’d been trying to wrap up the rest of her interviews.

Something about Chief Smallwood needled her. But she couldn’t pinpoint it, and her mind refused to focus on that. All she could think about was Adam. How had he managed to get into a fight with Ethan Goddard…and why was he banged up? She’d seen him handle Ethan easily, like he was swatting a fly. This didn’t make sense.

The drive to the police station seemed endless as her GPS directed her through turns and stop signs. Finally, she arrived at a low brick building situated on a hill. She drove up, parked the ridiculous truck in the tiny front lot, and rushed inside.

The lobby was empty except for an older woman behind a desk, who looked up in mild surprise when she entered. “Adam Rhodes,” she said. “Is he here?”

“Well, I don’t know.” The woman leaned aside and peered through the glass front of the building. “That’s Karl Jessup’s truck,” she said. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Please.” Winter crossed the lobby on legs that wanted to shake and stopped in front of the desk. “I need to see Adam. He’s been hurt.”

The woman’s expression softened. “You mean that nice firefighter boy, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Is he…”

“Just a second, honey.” The woman pressed a button on a plastic speaker box beside her. “Hey, Nick. Come out here a minute, will you?”

“Be right there, Lolly,” a male voice responded.

“All right.” The receptionist smiled at her. “Nick’ll take you to him.”

“Thank you,” she said, nearly collapsing in relief.

A door behind the desk opened, and a tall, solidly muscled deputy stepped out. He looked at her and smiled. “You must be Winter Solomon.”

“Um. Yes,” she said. “How did you know?”

“Adam’s been asking for you. Come on back.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

She followed the deputy through the door and down a long hallway. “Your name’s Nick, right?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am. And I’m glad you’re here, because I was about to go looking for you.”

“You were?” she said. “Why?”

He tossed a smirk over his shoulder. “Because if you didn’t get here soon, Adam would’ve killed someone. Probably me,” he said. “He’s worried about you.”

Her heart did a wild, fluttering flip. “He’s worried about
me
,” she murmured. “From what I hear, I should be worrying about him.”

“Well, he’s not pretty,” Nick said. “But he’ll live.”

Somehow the words failed to comfort her.

After a few words, they reached a plain gray door with a narrow mesh window set near the top. “He’s in here,” Nick told her.

She frowned. This looked like an interrogation room. “Is he under arrest?”

“No, ma’am. Sheriff just wanted to get his statement—and make him sit down for a few minutes. He’s a bit agitated.” Smiling, Nick reached out and pulled the door open. “Go on in. It’s not locked or anything.”

Winter nodded her thanks and stepped inside.

He sat in a folding chair at one end of a wooden table—eyes closed, arms folded across his stomach. His lower lip was cut, one eye badly bruised, and there was a nasty scrape on his cheek. More cuts and scratches decorated his hands and arms.

“Oh, God,” she gasped. “Adam…”

The instant she spoke, he was on his feet, wincing as he came toward her. Without a word, he pulled her into a crushing embrace.

Despite her best efforts, a ragged sob escaped her as she laid her head on his chest.

“Winter.” His voice rumbled through her, warm and wonderful. “Are you okay?”

She managed a weak laugh. “You’re asking if
I’m
okay?” she said, shifting slightly to stare up at him. “Have you seen yourself?”

“I’m fine,” he said—and winced again. “Mostly.”

“Sure you are. What happened?”

His eyes darkened, his features tight for an instant. “I ran into Ethan,” he said. “So I went to have a chat with him. Turned out he wasn’t as alone as I thought.”

She shuddered. “How many…”

“Including Ethan, five,” he ground out.

Five against one. So that was how he’d gotten so hurt. “Adam, they could have killed you,” she said hoarsely.

“Maybe. But they didn’t,” he said. “And the son of a bitch is behind bars now. He all but confessed to me.”

“He did?”

Adam nodded. “He said—”

“Rhodes, what the hell were you thinking?”

They both flinched as Chief Smallwood’s voice filled the room. Adam moved back a little and gave a careful half-shrug. “Honestly? Not much, Chief.”

“Yes, I can see that.” The man strode in, and Winter caught a glimpse of a tall man with a badge and a cowboy hat standing in the hall. That was probably the sheriff. “Brad says five of ’em jumped you,” the chief said. “That right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still standing.” The chief shook his head. “Boy, I thought you were the one with brains.”

Adam smirked and rapped the side of his head—gently, Winter couldn’t help noticing. “Still there,” he said.

“Good. You can use them to take your fool self to the hospital and get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Chief.”

“No, you damned well aren’t.”

“I’m fine,” Adam repeated firmly. “And I’m going back to work.”

The chief snorted. “You’re lucky I like you, Rhodes,” he said. “But if I see even a hint of you falling down on the job, I’ll drag your ass to the ER myself. See you at the station.” He nodded to Winter. “Miss Solomon. I’ll let you have the honor of bringing him back.”

“Thank you,” she said, distracted again by the needling idea that something wasn’t right with this man. Something in the way he said her name.

Chief Smallwood stared at her for a moment, and then left the room. As he did, the sheriff came in. “All right, Mr. Rhodes,” he said. “I’m convinced. You can have your legal entry to Ben Schaeffer’s house.”

“Thank you,” Adam said. “Out of curiosity, what convinced you?”

“That Goddard’s a real piece of work.” The sheriff looked downright disgusted. “He’s definitely guilty of something, besides assault. He seems plenty capable of doing what you think he did.”

A ripple of unease passed through Winter. “Did he confess to you, too?”

The sheriff regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “I must’ve missed something,” he said. “Who are you, and how are you involved in this mess?”

“Sorry, Sheriff,” Adam said. “This is Winter Solomon. Winter, Sheriff Brad Tanner.”

“I’m with the fire marshal’s office,” she said. “Investigating insurance fraud.”

“Insurance fraud!” The sheriff gave an incredulous laugh. “And you think Goddard’s your man? That boy hasn’t got two brain cells to rub together.”

“It was him,” Adam said. “It had to be. He killed Ben.”

Winter drew a long, careful breath. “Sheriff, did he confess to you?”

“Hell, no.”

“Then why do you think he’s guilty?”

“Because when we brought him in, the son of a bitch lawyered right up,” the sheriff said. “You don’t do that unless you’re guilty.”

Or if you’re smart, and being charged with a crime you didn’t commit.
She decided not to say that aloud. Right now, all she had was a half-formed intuition that something wasn’t right. They needed that evidence. “All right,” she said. “When can we get into Ben’s place?”

“Soon as I can, I’ll drop by the fire station with a warrant and the key to the place,” the sheriff said. “Have to pull the judge off the golf court first. It’ll probably take me a few hours.”

“Thank you.” She braved a smile and turned to Adam. “Shall we get out of here?”

“Absolutely.”

As they walked back through the police station toward the front entrance, Winter tried to shake the idea that her culprit—Ben’s killer—was still out there. Adam was completely convinced it was Ethan, and she should be, too. Everything they knew so far pointed to him.

But the doubt remained.

Chapter 14

It was dark by the time Winter arrived at 357 Kings Way, armed with a house key and a search warrant. She’d been uneasy driving up the curving hill that had sent Ben to his death, but determined to get here and find what she needed.

One way or another, she had to know for sure who was behind this.

Adam was out on a medical call. The plan was for him to print out a few files she’d requested for comparison purposes when he got back to the station, and then meet her here. He hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of her coming here alone, but she didn’t want to wait any longer to start the search.

She still suspected they might have the wrong man in jail. Not that Ethan didn’t deserve to be locked up for what he’d done to Adam—but it was possible he wasn’t guilty of murder.