by Eve Gaddy
“Jesus. You can’t even say for sure it’s one of those people, can you?”
“No, but the note stuck to her door with a knife makes it a damn good possibility.”
“That’s true. What are you going to do?”
“Not much I can do. I suspect she’d be safer here, but hell, I can’t guarantee it. Not to mention I can’t force her to move in with me. And I can’t go stay at her house for more than a night here and there, not with the ranch to take care of.”
“Damn, Dylan. I hope they find out who it is before something worse happens.”
“Amen to that.”
Shit. It would be easier to get at her at the ranch, although it was tough making sure she didn’t see him. Still, he looked a lot different from the way she’d remember him. Especially with his colored contacts.
He’d been thinking hard about what to do next. Did he want to go ahead and take her out? Or scare the shit out of her some more?
He could set events in motion and see how it turned out. If she died, great. He could leave and go back to looking for his bitch of a wife. If not, he’d stick around until he thought of another way to make her pay.
Nobody fucks with me and mine and gets away with it. Nobody.
Sam got home late that night, barely having had a chance to sit down all day. She operated almost the entire time she was at the hospital. She was tired, hungry, and her feet hurt like hell from standing on the hard hospital floors all day. She let Shadow out, and went out back to watch him. It was late, so she texted Dylan rather than call him. If he wasn’t asleep, she thought, he should be.
Her phone rang almost as soon as she sent the text. “Hi, Dylan. Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Because I’m worried about you. I’m not trying to push you into something you aren’t ready for, but I really wish you’d stay with me at the ranch.”
She was wavering. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what was keeping her from saying yes. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I’m going to bed as soon as I eat and feed Shadow. And yes, I’ve still got my gun in case someone tries to break in.”
“I’ll come to you.”
“No, you won’t. You’re short-handed already. You can’t afford to be over here babysitting me every night.”
“Damn it.”
“Admit it. You’re needed at the ranch.”
He didn’t deny it. She knew he wasn’t happy about not being with her, but he didn’t argue any more. He probably knew it was pointless to argue about something she’d been so adamant about. She promised to talk to him in the morning and they hung up.
Shadow wanted to play, of course. Since he’d been cooped up all afternoon and part of the night, she didn’t have the heart to disappoint him. He was doing great now. His leg had healed, he’d put on weight and he loved her madly. There was a lot to be said for the total adoration a dog could give his owner.
Most of the snow had melted in her backyard. She’d even seen a few flowers around town, pushing through the remnants of snow. Spring wasn’t far off. She turned on the outside lights and threw the ball for half an hour, then took Shadow in and wiped him down, since he was pretty much a mud pie. She popped a frozen dinner in the microwave and while it heated, fed Shadow. Once she ate, she crawled into bed and fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She awoke to Shadow barking loudly, then whimpering and nosing her. “What the hell—”
She heard a crash and the sound of glass breaking. Shadow growled and charged the window. Sam sat up and turned on the light, yelling at Shadow to come as she did. Jesus. There’s smoke everywhere. There’s—oh, my God, what is that burning? She jumped out of bed then stood there, coughing, trying to think as flames licked at the curtains and quickly ignited them. The smoke alarm started wailing. Returning to her, Shadow kept barking and nipping her pajama pants trying to herd her out. She grabbed a sweatshirt off the chair by the bedroom door. Peering out of the open bedroom door, she saw smoke but the flames were confined to her bedroom.
Yielding to Shadow’s now frantic actions, she headed for the front door. As she passed it, she grabbed her purse, unlocked the front door and ran outside with Shadow glued to her side. As soon as they reached a safe distance, she stopped and turned around. Her stomach churned. To her it looked like the entire house was in flames.
She yanked her cell phone out of her purse and started to dial 9-1-1. Some of her neighbors had come outside and were watching and offering help. Kristin Northfield, who lived next door, said, “I called 9-1-1 when I heard your fire alarm go off. The fire department should be here any minute. Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She pulled on her sweatshirt, then wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. Whether from shock or the cold, she couldn’t tell. “Shadow woke me up just before—just before—my God, Kristin, I didn’t know what it was at first but someone threw a Molotov cocktail into my bedroom.”
Kristin stared at her. “A Molotov cocktail? You mean a bomb? Someone threw a bomb in your window?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll have to tell the firefighters and the cops. In the meantime, you’re bound to be freezing,” Kristin said, practically. “Come to my house until the fire department gets here.”
“No, I’m okay.” She couldn’t stop staring at her home. At the fire that was fast expanding. Her feet that were turning to icicles, no surprise considering she was barefoot. Shadow whimpered and she put her hand on his head. “Good boy. We’re okay now.” Thanks to Shadow.
“If you won’t come inside I’m going to get you something warm,” Kristin said. She returned a few minutes later with some thick socks, house shoes and a jacket.
“Thank you, Kristin.”
“I still think you should come inside—”
The wail of sirens cut off her words. Moments later two police cars drove up, closely followed by a fire truck. Firefighters spilled out, readying their equipment, attaching a hose to the nearby fire hydrant. The fire captain searched her out, asking if there were any more people inside. “No, it was just me and my dog.”
“That’s good.” He turned to leave.
“Captain, wait. It started in my bedroom, I think. Someone threw a bomb through the window. I know it sounds insane but—”
He cut her off. “We’ll take care of it. One of the paramedics will be over to check you out shortly.”
Sam didn’t argue, knowing it was easier to let them check her than to fight about it. The scene was a madhouse, with onlookers, cops and firefighters everywhere, water streaming from the fire hose. The noise was deafening, from people shouting as well as the fire alarm and sirens still sounding.
She needed to call Dylan, if only to make sure he heard about the fire from her and knew she and Shadow were all right. More than that, though, she wanted to see him. Needed to see him. She went into Kristin’s house to call, Shadow still sucked up against her like superglue.
“Dylan?”
“Sam?” He sounded groggy at first, then he snapped awake. “It’s two a.m. What’s wrong?”
“Someone threw a bomb through my bedroom window. My house is on fire.”
Chapter Nineteen
Holy shit! A bomb? What the fuck? A bomb? Sam’s house was on fire?
“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” His heart beat double time. Calm down. If she was seriously hurt she wouldn’t be calling. The hospital would. He shook his head hard, trying to clear the image of Sam, injured—or worse.
“I’m okay and so is Shadow. Neither of us are hurt at all. The fire department is here and they’re getting it under control.”
“I’m coming over.” He picked up his jeans and yanked them on. Grabbed a shirt and put it on.
He thought she might argue. Instead she said, “Thanks. I—oh, God, Dylan, it’s horrible.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Dylan made it to Sam’s house in record time. The street was blocked by police cars and the fire truck and firefighters were still
there. He parked as close as he could and walked the rest of the way, finding Sam as soon as he drew near the house. Shadow was by her side and she wore a coat that was way too big for her, pajama pants and house shoes.
When she saw him she walked straight into his arms. He put his arms around her and hugged her, then kissed her. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”
“Yes, I’m all right. Shadow woke me up right before anything happened. I guess he heard someone outside. They—he—he threw something through the window that exploded. Shadow got me out before the flames engulfed my bedroom.”
Her bedroom. The son of a bitch had tossed a fucking bomb into her bedroom. He looked at the house. “Why are the firefighters on the roof? It looks like they’re aiming their hoses—good God, did the hole in the roof come from the fire? Already?”
“No. They said they needed to cut a hole in the roof to be able to better get to my bedroom. The source of the fire.”
She rested her hand on the dog’s head. He was snugged up tight against her side and didn’t look like he would leave her anytime soon.
Dylan patted Shadow’s head. “Good boy.”
“Thank God Shadow was with me. If he hadn’t been—The bed was burning as I left the room. The fire chief says the fire is mostly confined to my bedroom, but the smoke damage is all over the house.”
Dylan looked at the house again, his stomach turning at the thought of Sam being trapped inside with the fire raging. “You saw the bomb?”
“Yes. It looked homemade. Like a Molotov cocktail or something like that. I told the fire chief and May. She said she’d get more details later.”
Shit! It really was a bomb. Which meant it was arson. And attempted murder. The bastard meant to kill her.
May caught up with them while the firefighters were finishing up. “Do you feel up to talking to me, Sam? We can wait until tomorrow if you’d rather.”
“It’s better if we talk while it’s fresh in my mind, isn’t it?” Sam asked.
“I don’t think a few hours will make a difference.”
“Let’s do it now.”
“Your neighbor offered her kitchen if you’d like to go there.”
“That’s sweet of her. Poor Kristin has been trying to get me to go inside for hours.”
Before long Sam, Dylan, May and Shadow were all sitting around Kristin Northfield’s kitchen table, drinking hot coffee. Kristin and her husband, Craig, were both there as well. Sam asked them to stay in case they could remember seeing anything suspicious and May had agreed, saying another policeman would canvass the other neighbors who were awake and the rest later in the day.
“It was a bomb, May,” Sam said.
“Yes, it was. A homemade IED. The fire chief confirmed it. We’ll have more details after they have a chance to thoroughly examine the scene. So let’s start at the beginning. You said you came home late tonight. Take me through that and what you did after you got home.”
Sam had exchanged the jacket for a blanket her friend had given her. Her face was white and pinched, both from exhaustion and stress, Dylan figured. She took a sip of coffee and started.
“It was after eleven when I got home. I took Shadow out and we played ball for half an hour. With the lights on in the backyard. I didn’t see anyone or anything unusual and I don’t think Shadow did because I think—no, I know he would have alerted me to something like that.
“Then we came in, I microwaved a frozen dinner and went to bed. I guess it was around midnight or a little later.”
“The 9-1-1 call came in at 1:42.”
“That was me,” Kristin volunteered. “I heard her smoke alarm go off and when I looked out the window to see what was going on I saw flames coming from Sam’s house. So I called emergency.”
“Shadow woke me up just before the bomb came through the window. He must have known he was outside.”
“Did you know it was a bomb immediately?”
Her brows knit together. “I think so. Shadow had awakened me just a couple of minutes before I heard the window glass breaking. The window was screened, so he’d have had to get rid of that. Maybe that’s what Shadow heard. Anyway, I saw a bottle with a burning rag stuffed into it. Isn’t that a Molotov cocktail?”
“Sounds like it,” May said.
“The curtains caught fire immediately and the bed was already going up by the time Shadow and I left the room.” She reached for Shadow, who immediately put his head under her hand.
Dylan sat there trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the bastard who was after Sam had thrown a bomb into her bedroom. Talk about escalation. Draining the gas, slashing the tires, even the note stuck to the door with a knife, could all be counted as nuisances. But setting her home on fire—with a goddamn bomb—that was attempted murder.
“Is there anything else you can think of to tell me?” May asked.
Sam simply shook her head. May gave her a long look, then turned to Dylan with a questioning lift of her eyebrows. “She’ll be staying with me,” he told her, even though he and Sam hadn’t discussed it yet. Sam didn’t protest, which he took as either a good sign, or she hadn’t been paying attention and was too upset to even think that far ahead.
“Good.” May nodded decisively. “Mr. and Mrs. Northfield, did you see or hear anything suspicious prior to hearing the alarm?”
Both of them said no and May continued, “Have you seen any unusual activity around Sam’s house in the last few weeks?”
“I told them about the tires and the note,” Sam said.
“Yes, we talked about it after she told us. Neither of us has seen anything out of the ordinary,” Kristin said.
“I don’t—” Sam’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and checked it. “It’s Bianca. I need to take this.” She got up and walked into the other room.
Dylan looked at May. “Can I talk to you?”
Craig said, “If you need us we’ll be in the living room. Come on, Kristin.”
As soon as they walked out, Dylan said, “It’s him. Her stalker.”
“We can’t say that for certain, Dylan. That’s quite an escalation.”
“Exactly. Discounting the first two things, the note was threatening and now her home was set on fire. Attempted murder. If it’s not her stalker then who the hell is it?”
“We’re investigating, Dylan.”
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
May pressed her lips together. “Yes, it’s likely to be the same person who’s been harassing her. But we have no physical evidence yet to back that up. The suspect has to arise out of the evidence if we want an arrest. Not the other way around. You don’t pick the suspect and then try to make the evidence fit.” May leaned forward and pinned him with what he thought of as her ‘cop stare’. “Don’t go around saying the cops think he did it, either. That could prejudice the case when we do catch him.”
“You don’t have to worry, May. I get it.” He didn’t like it, but he understood it. Still, he needed to tell his brothers what had happened and he saw no reason not to tell them who he suspected. They’d keep it to themselves if he asked them to.
After May left, he called the hospital to see if any of his brothers were on call and in the hospital. Sean came on the line shortly.
“What’s going on, Dylan? There’s a rumor that Sam’s house is on fire.”
“It’s no rumor, it’s true.”
“The hell you say! Was Sam there?”
“Yes, but she’s all right.” He told him what had happened and what they knew or believed.
“Thank God the dog got her up in time for her to get out. Is there anything Honey or I can do?”
“Yeah, you can tell Jack, Wyatt and the wives later this morning. No sense waking them up. Oh, and tell Glory too.”
“I’ll do that. Tell Sam I’m glad she’s okay. I can talk to the other trauma surgeons about covering for her if she needs me to.”
“Thanks. I’ll let her know.”
Obviou
sly, Bianca had heard about the fire or she wouldn’t have called Sam in the middle of the night when she knew Sam wasn’t working.
“Oh, my God, Sam. I just heard there’s a fire at your house. Are you all right?”
“I’m okay, Bianca.”
“You’re sure? Was anyone hurt?”
“No, I’m all right and no one was hurt. But the fire—my bedroom is on fire.” Sam closed her eyes, seeing her bedroom, burning as she left it. “I’m next door at Kristin’s. The fire department is here. I don’t know how long they’ll be here putting it out.”
“Do you want me to come over? Oh, forget that. I’m coming over.”
Before she could protest, Bianca hung up.
Ten minutes later her friend rushed into Kristin’s house and immediately grabbed Sam in a tight hug. “I’m so thankful you’re all right.”
Sam blinked back tears. Bianca, who knew her well, held her away and snapped, “Don’t you dare cry or I’ll cry too. You know I hate to cry.”
What she really meant was that Bianca knew Sam hated to cry. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she told her friend.
It was near dawn by the time the fire department pronounced the fire extinguished and allowed them to go in. Sam had forced Bianca to leave since she had work that day. Dylan tried to get Sam to leave before the fire was out, but she meant to stay until the bitter end.
“Damn, you’re stubborn,” he said.
“Like you’re not?”
He shrugged and followed her into the house.
Stomach churning, Sam stared at the wreckage of her bedroom. The thought that she might have been trapped inside scared the shit out of her. Shadow, still true to his name, had only left her side twice since he’d awakened her. He hadn’t gone far and he’d kept her in sight even then. The firemen told her they believed that in addition to the homemade bomb thrown inside, another had been thrown at the bedroom’s outside wall. The wall was partially destroyed and the rest of the room was a near total disaster.
She couldn’t look at her bed without wanting to throw up. Somehow, her closet had been spared, but all of the furniture had burned to some degree. There would be water damage throughout the house, particularly the bedroom. She knew everything in the house would reek of smoke. Opening up one of the plastic bags Kristin had given her, she didn’t even attempt to get anything from the charred dresser. Instead she started in her closet.