by Piper Stone
“Riker. Thank God. We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for almost two hours. You need to get here fast.”
“What is going on?”
“A massive fire. We need every jumper on this one. This is a special call,” Katie barked. “And I mean now.”
He turned again, studying the sky. “Where? Idaho?” The mountains just across the border from Montana had experienced an entire dry year, the pines subject to caustic fires.
“Nope. West Virginia.”
“What the fuck?” They’d gone West, working on fires in California, Oregon and Washington State as well as Idaho, but West Virginia?
“Don’t ask any questions. Get here. The plane is leaving in thirty minutes and you know how the captain is. Don’t want to piss him off.”
The concern in Katie’s voice was mixed with her usual banter, but the edge was different. “I’m on my way.” Grabbing his helmet, he finagled the clasp and started the engine, jerking out of the driveway and accelerating down the street. This is what life was all about.
Hell, this was all he knew and all he cared to deal with.
After all, he was dead inside.
On. Off. On. Off. Trinity flicked the switch over and over again, catching her reflection in the window every time the garish light was flipped on, if only for a brief second. Sighing, she glanced over at the clock. Almost five in the morning. She hadn’t even bothered to try and sleep. What was the point? Her life was a disaster, no doubt her career on hold after her escapade with the reporter.
Huffing, she decided to keep the light off and wait, watching for the morning sun. As if the glorious California day would soothe her nerves. She’d spent too many years on a wide-open stage, allowing everyone else to make decisions for her. Well, no more. At least she’d made the decision to be her own woman sometime around two a.m. She snorted and reached for her wine. Drinking wasn’t going to solve anything, but at least she could dial back the demons floating inside of her head for a little while.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back in the chair, contemplating what, if anything, she could do. Jack Spartan. The name was synonymous with asshole of the highest degree. She tried to remember the first time the reporter had taken a ‘liking’ to her, following her around like a lost puppy dog. Ah, yes. After the success she’d found with her second film. She hadn’t been able to go anywhere without his prying eyes and lens being right there, following her every move. The damn vulture.
Sure, at first his pictures had seemed benign, almost a token of appreciation and she’d allowed him to photograph her. Once he thought he had an in with her, all hell had broken loose. Why the vicious turn? Terse words spouted off at a fundraising event. If only she’d kept her mouth shut.
Trinity curled her legs under her as she sipped on her wine. The taste was somehow bitter, no longer relaxing at this point. She was honestly surprised Marvin hadn’t been beating at her door, demanding to know what the hell was going on. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. What if she left town for a few days? Would that help? No doubt, the asshole would just follow her. Jack had a method of hunting her down like a dog in heat.
After a few seconds, her curiosity got the better of her. She grabbed her laptop from the table and flipped open the top. Hesitating, she maneuvered to the internet and waited, typing in her name. Then she cringed. There it was, the glorious story already on the morning news. Her finger hovered over the site before she could find the courage to click.
The picture was telling. She looked haggard, older than she was and bitter. That was the term. Bitter. The headline was perfect, albeit blasphemous.
Trinity Hargrove After a Night of Celebration
And the subtitle was even more creative.
A vile attempt at stomping on the news, the award-winning actress takes out her anger on a local reporter.
“Wonderful.” She closed the lid and resisted tossing her beloved Mac. Anger didn’t look good on her. No doubt, her phone would start ringing off the hook soon enough. For a few seconds, she thought about doing some writing, her first love. How many books had she started but had to shelve after life interfered? Too many. Words written on paper, typed into the computer were relaxing, a tethering to her past. If only she’d chosen another profession to run to.
What? And lose all the glamor infused into her life? She burst into laughter and was forced to double over. Then the laugh turned into deep breaths and finally another round of tears. She was pathetic. Sucking in her breath, she jerked to her feet, slapping the wine glass on the table. No one was going to best her, especially not some two-bit reporter.
A shower. She’d feel a hell of a lot better. As she walked toward the bathroom, she heard her doorbell. No, not already. She wasn’t prepared to handle the onslaught of crap that would be tossed her way. She folded her arms and paced her bedroom floor.
The bell was pushed again.
She just knew the asshole, Jack, was standing outside her front door, waiting for her rebuttal, her comment on what he considered the truth. If she was a smart and sensible girl, she’d leave well enough alone. But she wasn’t.
The bitchy side grabbed what was left of her mind, and she headed down the hallway, taking long strides. If the jerk wanted a piece of her, he was going to have to reach in and grab it. By the time she stormed into the foyer, the bell had been rung a third time. She turned on every outside light, hoping the fucker would be blinded. Hissing, she looked through the peephole, ready to strike. “What?”
Trinity smiled as she opened the door. “Ana? What are you doing here?” Ana Phillips was her cousin, her best friend and the very reason she was in Hollywood in the first place. Granted, at this moment, she could kick the girl’s ass. The beautiful brunette continued to model, the place where Trinity started. After a bit part in a movie, Trinity was discovered, now much to her chagrin.
Ana squinted and glanced toward the roof line as she held out two steaming cups of coffee. “I thought you might need a friend, but if I’m going to be interrogated, forget about it.” Grinning, she winked. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Of course. I haven’t seen you in months. Let me guess, you read the paper.” Trinity closed the door behind her, making certain the locks were in place, as if that would keep out the rest of the world. Flipping off the outside lights, she shivered. He was out there. She’d bet all she owned that he was biding his time.
“Mmm… Well, actually, I had a phone call last night right after the prize-winning fight. Drove up from San Diego because I knew you’d be in a tizzy.”
“Very funny. I don’t do tizzy. I do pissed off.” She took a cup and wrapped her other arm around Ana. “Thank you for giving a shit about me.”
“Wow, girl. You sound like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
Trinity eased back and shrugged. “I guess I do. Just…”
“Come on. Let’s go sit down. Tell me what happened. Not that I don’t think the jerk deserved it, but the way the various newspapers are depicting the story, you’re the big, bad wolf.”
“I wish I were at this point.” She led Ana into the kitchen and turned on the light over the stove.
Ana leaned against the counter and dropped her purse. “So, what are you going to do about the reporter?”
“Nothing I can do. He hasn’t threatened me in any way or said anything that was totally dishonest.”
Ana tilted her head. “This whole crap about your past is absolutely wrong. The man needs to be stopped, no matter how.”
“But what has he said really? Nothing.”
“Insinuations of inappropriate behavior. And that’s for a start.”
Trinity exhaled. “He has no idea what the truth is.”
“Then get an injunction against him.”
“At this point, that would only fuel the already nasty fire. I need another course of action.” She took a sip of coffee, relishing in the burn. “Like leaving town. The state altogether.”
“You’re going to l
et Mr. Jerkoff win? That’s not like you. You are pushed to the wall.” Ana touched Trinity’s arm. “I’m worried about you.”
“At least somebody is.”
“Why didn’t that boyfriend of yours do the punch?”
Trinity laughed. “Chance is a wimp. Do you honestly think he’d allow himself to break into a sweat to help anyone?”
“Maybe not.”
“He won’t be coming around.”
Ana lifted her eyebrows, a grin spreading on her face. “Why is that?”
“I threw him out last night. I think it was just after he called me a bitch.”
Coughing, Ana slapped her hand against her chest. “That fucking asshole. Why are men such meatheads?”
“If you find the answer to that question, we’ll be golden.” Trinity chuckled, feeling more relaxed than before. “What did I interrupt with my outburst?”
“Just a modeling gig for Cartier. Nothing special.” Ana purposely fluttered her eyelashes.
“You are the bitch. My guess is you’re happier than I am.”
“Happiness is highly overrated. That’s what my agent keeps telling me anyway. That and the fact I’m almost over the hill.”
Trinity grimaced. “At twenty-nine?”
“At twenty-nine. Don’t worry about me. I have some irons in the fire. Now, as to the reason I’m here.”
She could tell her cousin had something up her sleeve. “What have you done?”
“Not what I’ve done, yet. But I have an idea for you. If I know my beautiful and ultra-talented cousin, I’d say you’re ready to take a long vacation to somewhere that not a single person can find you. Am I correct?”
“You know me well. I just don’t know where that is or how I can get away.”
“You know I’m sneaky, right?” Ana rolled her eyes.
“Just another thing I love about you. Now, you’re killing me. If you have a way for me to get out of here, just disappear, you can have anything you want.”
She tapped her finger across her mouth. “Deal. Do you like cowboys? Mountains? Fresh water? Outdoor activities? A place with blue skies, amazing spring flowers and some of the nicest people who will have no idea who you are?”
“Sounds like heaven. Is there such a place?” Trinity had to admit, she was intrigued.
“You bet there is. One catch.”
“There always is.”
Ana leaned forward. “You let me stay here, in your house so I can do some snooping and try and find out what Jack boy is up to. And no, you can’t refuse me. Period. You know how I can be when I don’t get my way.”
“I don’t know if this guy is dangerous.”
She studied her cousin for a full minute before reaching into her leather bag.
Trinity opened her eyes wide when the cold steel flashed in the dim light. “What are you doing with a gun?”
“A girl can’t be too safe or too rich, especially with assholes out there like this Jack person. Don’t worry. I’m licensed, and you bet I know how to use this.”
She studied the firepower and couldn’t help but smile.
“Don’t you dare chastise me!” Ana huffed and slid the gun across the counter.
“That is not even close to what I was going to say.”
“Then what were you going to say?”
Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around the grip. “That I need to get one of these.”
“Hmmm… Honey, where you’re going, you can get a sexy man to take care of your business. Maybe in more than one way.”
“You’re so bad.” Trinity could feel the heat rising on her face.
“Do we have a deal? I’m the super sleuth and you can have two or three cowboys at your beck and call.” Ana held out her hand.
She thought about the arrangement and had to admit, she liked the idea on several levels. All she had to do was pack a few things and leave town. Perfect. “Deal. Just don’t get yourself killed.” The handshake felt good, as if she was taking her life back.
“Don’t you worry about me. I think Jack Spartan is the one who has to worry.”
They both laughed, giggling like old times until they heard a distinct thud against the door.
“What the fuck?” Ana asked between clenched teeth and grabbed the gun.
“And so, it begins.” Shivers raced down the back of Trinity’s legs.
“Stay here.” Ana walked out of the room, every step with purpose.
“Ana!” Racing after her, she had no idea what to expect, even though her gut was screaming with new fears. Pandora’s Box had to stay locked.
Ana flung open the door, holding the gun out in front of her. “All right, you bastard. You aren’t going to mess with us!”
Looking down at the stoop, Trinity sighed and reached for Ana’s arm. “A present.” The white envelope said so many things. Shaking, she reached down, tentatively grabbing the edge. While the envelope wasn’t heavy, she had a feeling she knew what was inside.
“No return address,” Ana remarked.
“Something new in his game. Jack is always the same, never varies.” Trinity held the envelope and walked back into the kitchen with heavy feet.
Ana slammed the door, the force reverberating into the hall. “Last night rattled him, but you don’t know this is from him. Maybe that sad sack of a boyfriend of yours is trying to say he’s sorry. If you take him back, I will disown you. No pressure.”
Trinity tried to smile as she opened the flap and reached inside. “Here goes.” The moment she tugged out the contents, she sagged against the counter. “Get me out of here as fast as you can.”
“Oh, shit, honey. I’m so sorry. He’s a dead man.”
Chapter 3
“Jesus F. Christ.”
Riker looked over at Landen Weaver and grimaced. Yeah, the plane ride was for shit, the turbulence the worst he’d ever experienced. “How much longer in this thin steel box?” He directed his question to their captain. The fact that Captain Scully Phillips was on the trip with them said a hell of a lot about the fire they were facing.
“Almost an hour,” Captain Phillips answered without looking at his watch.
Landen exhaled and glanced out the window. “How did this thing kick up again?”
“The authorities don’t know for certain,” Antonio Giovanni stated as he edged forward in his seat.
The head of the crew and one ferocious Italian seemed completely out of sorts. Riker knew the entire team was off kilter, the order dragging half of them away from a few days off. “But they suspect arson?”
“Or kids playing with matches,” Stoker Hansen added.
Riker noticed the jumper’s right leg was thumping against the metal floor. To say the father to be was anxious was an understatement. What little he’d learned about the fire was that they were the closest smokejumping team available and given the spring conditions, leaves on the trees, there was fresh fuel for the already devastating blaze. The Appalachian mountain area was considered park territory, the pristine landscaping and various resorts already busy.
“Not likely. The cold nights certainly aren’t a draw for kids. It’s even early for hikers,” Garcia Puevos said and gave Riker a look.
Everyone was questioning why they were involved. From the reports issued by their spotter before they’d left the hangar, there were dozens of firefighters on the scene. To have a fire get out of hand to the point of needing jumpers was disconcerting to say the least. He glanced at the unusually quiet rest of the team. They’d incorporated members from another more prominent group months before. The three had learned to fit in, even becoming friends to most of the guys. Not to him. He didn’t need any new friends, nor did he care what they had to offer.
Matt Washington struggled to climb out of his seat. The man known as ‘Moose’ had continued to vie for leadership, sparring against Antonio and even the captain more than once.
“Sit down. We don’t need any injuries before we get there,” Riker commanded.
“Shut
the fuck up,” Moose hissed.
“Sit down,” Steel Frost’s voice was surly.
Moose glared down at the man and shook his head. “We have no reason to be here.”
“Gentlemen. That’s enough!” the captain snarled. “We’re doing this. We were asked by the Governor of West Virginia specifically to come in and help. Over ten thousand acres have burned, and I don’t have to tell you, that’s a hell of a lot for the area. We need to get in, do our job and make certain the firefighters can do theirs. Be ready to jump as soon as we get there. I suggest you make certain your gear is in order.”
Tyler walked toward the men, his voice booming over the noise. “I’ll be spotting. Just remember to take some time and look over the maps you all have. This is vital if we’re going to be successful.”
“Did you hear me?” the captain added.
The words hung in the air.
Sawyer Lincoln, the oldest and the senior jumper on board cleared his throat. “You heard the man. Get ready. We will do this. We are the Jackals!”
“Jackals,” Stoker repeated.
“I don’t hear any enthusiasm!” Sawyer barked.
“Jackals.” Moose smiled as he raised his eyebrows, his stare meant for Riker.
Riker ignored the moment of revelry and faced front, clenching his fists. The plane jerked, tossing them down a solid thousand feet.
“Shit!” Moose exclaimed as he was thrown against Garcia. “Glad when we get off this thing.”
“Sit down!” Antonio directed.
“I’m getting in position. Maps, gentlemen. Maps!” Tyler directed
Smiling, Riker resisted chuckling. Yeah, the three new members, including Zane Grey, the only man on vacation for this soiree, had proven their worth. There was no reason for him to remain caustic, even nasty, but he’d realized over the last few months that the emptiness was creeping into a desperate level. No matter.
“What’s up with you?” Landen asked as he leaned in. He fumbled to grab the handheld computer, pulling up the required map. When Riker didn’t answer right away, he raised a single eyebrow. “You’re not still pissed at the last gig, are you?”