by Piper Stone
Trinity heard the catch in his voice, the utter terror and guilt.
“There was… There was a fire. I got the call when we were getting ready to leave. I was coming back to her! To my baby! I was on my way. If it had just waited for a lousy hour. One fucking hour then my family would have survived. I was there at the end. I tried. I swear to God, I tried to save them.”
His fingers dug into her and she held her breath as she slipped her arm over him, her leg over his. “What happened?”
“A fire. A huge fire. She couldn’t get out. My Rose and my baby were both trapped. They were pounding at the window, begging for help. The fireman didn’t get there in time. The fire was so massive, so hot. I was there. I tried. They pulled me off. They didn’t save my family, but the truth is. I killed them. I’m the one. I’m the horrible person. I killed my wife and child.”
Chapter 12
Weight. Guilt. Despair. The words continued to flow in the back of Riker’s mind, but he had to admit that sharing the full story had eased a burden that had been locked deep inside. He hadn’t realized how intense the emotions would be until he’d muttered the words. The timing had been right, sharing a part of his life that had left him a broken man. There would be no vindication, no way of erasing the past, but words Trinity offered had been the key to unlocking the rusted padlock.
Rose would want him to live, even to love again. He wasn’t ready to give up on life, no matter his earlier thoughts, nightmares and the fact he’d stood by the river on more than occasion doubting his ability to go on. But he was a fighter. That much he knew. Both Trinity and Rose had seen that in him from the beginning. They were similar, both caring and nurturing, but also so very different.
The time spent at the river on this glorious May morning had meant more to him than he could possibly admit. After making love, after holding each other for what seemed like forever, sharing wine and nothing more than gentle touches, he felt almost whole again.
Shivering, Trinity huddled next to him, half wrapped in the blanket as she sipped on her wine.
“Cold?” he asked, pulling her tightly against him. His throat remained scratchy, the single word almost inaudible.
“Invigorated.”
Sighing, he kissed the top of her head. “We should go soon. An hour to get back.”
“Then what?” Tilting her head, she glanced into his eyes, hers searching as if terrified he’d try and crawl back into his hole.
“Dinner?”
“I’d like that. I admit, I’m starving.”
He pulled her to her feet and glanced back at the river one last time. From now on, this beautiful place would belong to them. That is, if she was going to stay. Another hurdle. Another conversation. “Good sex will do that to you.”
“Very funny.” She grabbed her shirt and noticed her phone laying on the ground. The moment she had it in her hands, she groaned. “Two missed calls from Ana. She told me she’d call when she was flying into town.”
Nodding, Riker grabbed his jeans, jerking them on as she listened to her voice mails. He could tell by her pinched face that something was wrong. After sliding into his shirt, he grabbed his jacket, checking his phone. Seemed everyone was trying to get a hold of them. “Shannon.” He hit redial without bothering to listen to the message. “Hey. Sorry. Trinity and I drove up to Blackfoot. What’s up?”
“Is she still with you?” Shannon asked, a hint of anger in her voice.
“Yeah. We’re just getting ready to leave. Why?”
“Because there are dozens of reporters in town and I mean dozens. Their trucks are parked all over the damn place. A couple of them came in to grab lunch and I overheard them talking. Asshole ex-boyfriend must have told them where Trinity was and given the bastard was at the cabin she’s using, I wouldn’t suggest you go there.”
“Fuck. This is the last things she needs,” he muttered under his breath.
“I know. I wanted you to hear it from me. I don’t think she’s going to be able to hide but so much longer,” Shannon huffed. “I hope she’s ready to face the music.”
“She shouldn’t have to.”
“Preaching to the choir. Let me know if you need anything. Just a phone call away.”
Riker turned to find Trinity staring at him, the look on her face one of utter disgust. “Thank you. I owe you one.”
“There’s more news. They caught the motherfucker setting the bombs.”
“What? You’re kidding me.” There was no way it could be that easy. He’d seen the bomb and the mechanism was the real thing, not one created from some blueprints off the internet. What about the asshole threatening the mayor? Something was off.
“Yeah, some kid, believe it or not. The little creep had several of the same model in the basement of his parents’ house. The internet.” Shannon laughed. “Gotta run. I feel a bar fight happening. Oh, don’t forget to remind Trinity that Jessica has some pretty snazzy ideas on how to help her out of this media crisis. You know, Jess. She’ll bug me to freaking death.”
“Yeah, I do, and I will. Thanks for everything.” A kid? There was no way given the information he’d learned about the bomb itself. What the hell was going on?
“You got it, my friend.”
Riker ended the call and held the phone to his head. There had to be a ruse involved, playing a game in order to catch the real perpetrator.
“What’s wrong?” Trinity shoved her shirt into her jeans. “Maybe I should say, let me guess. Reporters?”
“Yeah. All over the damn place.”
“That motherfucker told everyone where I was. I should kill him!” Pacing, she mumbled under her breath. “My cousin called. Ana rented a car and found a good dozen photographers camped out at the cabin. What the hell am I supposed to do? Go to a hotel? My guess is they will just find me there. I’m going to have to go back, face this thing. Shit! I will kill Chance. I will. He called me. The fucker called me telling me in no uncertain terms that I belonged to him and he’d be waiting at the hotel for me to arrive. The nerve of the asshole.”
“Waiting at the hotel? Which hotel?”
“Don’t you do anything stupid.”
“I don’t plan on it.”
She paced the ground, hissing. “This is getting out of hand.”
“Yeah, it is.” Riker walked in her direction, taking her arms. “I agree that you need to face this situation but on your own terms and when you want to do it.”
“Better be soon, since my agent called and issued an ultimatum. Come back and deal with this in the next twenty-four hours or he’s firing me as a client. Can you believe that? I’ve been with that man since I started. Made him a hell of a lot of money too and he’s willing to chuck everything. I’m done.” Nervous laughter trickled past her pursed lips. “Done. I can’t do this anymore. The lying. The pretending. That’s not the girl inside.”
“You’re right. You’re a different woman and my guess is that you always were. You were caught up in the glamor, as well as the money. Maybe it’s time for a new start, but my opinion is that you need to go out swinging, no matter what you decide.”
“I’d love to. Trust me. I’d love to stick this in their faces, call their bluff. Just how am I supposed to do that?”
Riker gave her an authoritative look. “I understand that Jessica has some ideas to help you? Connections?”
“That’s right. Shannon mentioned that she and Jessica cooked up some ideas. I have to do this right.” She groaned and rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know anymore. At some point, I’ll listen to her. I just need some time to think.”
“Uh-huh. I can tell you’re just as stubborn as I am, but I don’t know how to help you. The thought of movies and stars, Hollywood and the dirt, not my bag. First things first. You’re going to stay with me.”
“They’ll make the connection at some point. I can’t do that to you.” Trinity shook her head.
“And I have the ability and the means to get them the hell off my property. In the meanti
me, we can try and figure out a plan. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“I don’t have any clothes.”
Grinning, he kissed the top of her head. “And that’s a problem, why?”
Flipping off the television, he stood rubbing his jaw, ready to burst into laughter. What fools. Then again, the fact a local teenager had been arrested, charged with the two bombing attempts and the destruction of the warehouse might just work in his favor. There was no more heat, at least for now. All eyes would be on the poor, dumb kid, who’d stumbled his way into an operation.
He grabbed his beer, taking a swig. Perhaps he’d lay low for a couple of days, give the media and the sheriff’s office time to process. Then he could get back to work, finishing what he’d started. He’d leave her off the list for the time being, switching his method of operation. Even the disappearance of a prominent city council member had taken a back seat to the bombing news. Well, perhaps it should.
Still, he had to be careful. He eased his beer down and walked to his favorite room. Time to change his method of operation. As he turned on the light, he inhaled, savoring the rich scent of ammunition, gun powder and metal. The collection was beautiful, the most important things he’d ever owned.
Chuckling, he walked to the cabinet, unlocking then swinging open the doors. He couldn’t help but admire the firepower he’d amassed. He rubbed his fingers over the M16A2 and the M4 carbine, but his selection for this particular mission? The HK416. Wrapping his hand around the tactical rifle, he eased the thing of beauty out into the light. His favorite method to kill.
He rubbed the end of the barrel, savoring the way it felt, the cool metal against his skin. Now, he wished he’d used the piece for the first kill. Snickering, he remembered the look in the man’s eyes, the way he stared in horror, if only for a few seconds, a mere understanding. The next kill would taste even better.
After closing the doors, he grabbed a few handguns, shoving them into a duffle bag. Adding various ammunition clips, he zipped the bag and patted the top. Very soon it would be time to set the remaining act into motion.
As he walked out of the room, he began to whistle. Everything was working out perfectly.
“What are we doing here again?”
Riker heard the amusement in Landen’s voice. “Doing me a favor. Just a conversation. Nothing more.” The cars had pulled up, remaining in the back. This was the right thing to do. At least the opportunity to get one asshole off Trinity’s back.
“I kind of like this.” Boone held the baseball bat in his hands, slapping the wood against his palm.
“Violence. Sounds like fun.” Antonio moved ahead of the group, a grin on his face. “I like to deal with bullies.”
“What about you?” Sawyer laughed.
“You said, this guy is violent?” Steel asked between clenched teeth.
“He threatened Trinity more than once. If Shannon hadn’t arrived with a gun, who knows what would have happened.” Riker studied the area, the parking lot filled with vans from various news agencies. A Quality Inn. The man certainly wasn’t living high on the hog at this point.
“Then his ass belongs to us,” Moose said quietly as he looked up at the hotel.
Zane bounded out of the entrance, whistling as he sauntered forward. “The girl behind the desk is very nice. Pretty too. I managed to snag her number and get the room number. Room 472.”
“You go, you dog!” Garcia woofed.
“Let’s just make certain he understands why we’re here. Follow me.” The four-story motel had an outside set of stairs, the inn certainly not meant for a Hollywood star. As he took them two at a time, his blood pressure increased. The asshole would know exactly what the town was made of.
“This should be good,” Landen said behind him.
Riker remained quiet as he set foot on the landing and opened the outside door. After a quick look at the sign on the hallway wall, he took long strides all the way down until he reached the door. “Just stay out of the way.”
The men flanked the hallway.
After knocking on the door, Riker took a step back, placing his hands behind his back. He could hear someone inside, no doubt believing that Trinity would actually succumb to his demands. When the door was opened, he wrapped his hand around the man’s neck, pushing him inside. “You think you can bully people?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Chance hissed as he dug his fingers into Riker’s hands, trying to get away.
“Your worst nightmare.” Riker whistled and grinned as the others, all nine of the smokejumpers entered the room, Antonio slamming the door. “This is just a friendly gesture.”
Boone slapped the bat on his hand as he moved closer, eyeing Chance’s knees. “One hard hit. He’ll have trouble getting a movie part for a long time.”
“No! Don’t you fucking dare. Get off me.” Chance struggled, flailing as Riker slammed him against the wall.
“You are an asshole.” Riker smiled. “Now, my boys are going to try and explain it to you. You are going to leave Missoula tonight. Period.”
Whap!
Boone slapped the bat and moved closer as the others crowded around in a semi-circle.
Chance sputtered, his eyes darting back and forth. “You’re crazy.”
“You’re right. We enjoy beating the shit out of assholes,” Moose said as he puffed up, inching closer.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Chance pushed hard against Riker’s chest.
“Did you hear the pansy ass creep?” Landen laughed.
“I say we beat his face first, then break both of his knees.” Steel snarled as he inched closer.
“No!” Chance blinked, his mouth going slack.
“No? Then you’re going to do exactly as we say. Leave town and never, not once, try and contact Trinity again. Not once. Because we will know when and if you do. And if we find out that you have tried, even breathing into the phone, sending her an email or text, we will hunt. You. Down. Am I clear?” Riker dug his nails into the man’s skin before backing away. “Not once.”
“Okay! Fine.” When Riker let him go, he coughed but remained backed against the wall. “Sure.”
“We have your word?” Moose insisted, frothing at the mouth.
“Yeah. You do. Swear to God.” Chance managed, his face flushed.
Smack!
Boone slapped the bat against the dresser.
Riker grinned as he looked down at the man’s very wet crotch and sniffed. “Clean yourself up and get the hell out of here.” As they stormed out of the room, he smiled.
“That was a blast.” Moose slapped Riker on the back.
“I’m missing something here.”
Riker looked over at Landen. The entire team remained on high alert, the concept of helping the sheriff as well as the mayor daunting. However, they all needed to hear the various details. An impromptu meeting had been called at his house, for the simple reason of the onslaught of reporters hanging around Ziggy’s as well as every other bar and restaurant in town. He glanced out the back door, studying the way Trinity was sitting on the edge of her seat, her eyes never leaving Jessica. Whatever help Jess could provide would be a Godsend. “What’s this shit about the kid being the bomber?”
“My guess is that the sheriff is playing a game of cat and mouse. And here I didn’t think the guy was that intelligent,” Boone chortled.
“Not a bad idea, if you ask me. The mayor’s son. Why does she think he’s the one ceremoniously killing those involved with funding veterans?” Landen sipped on his beer.
Stoker grabbed a beer out of Riker’s refrigerator and walked back into the room. “Neither Cooper or I can give you all the details, but what we found about the unit Kevin Falk was in was interesting.”
“Your unit?” Sawyer asked.
“No. When Stoker and I were stationed in Afghanistan, we had a sister unit that was involved in the mission that you’ve all heard about before,” Cooper answered.
“Some of us haven’t,” Steel
said under his breath.
Exhaling, Stoker leaned against the fireplace. “Short version. Cooper and I served together. We were buddies and our entire unit was involved in some dangerous missions. We were caught on a mission, a nighttime flight in order to rescue several prisoners of war. Things went wrong and when we jumped, well…”
Riker could tell his hand was shaking.
Cooper cleared his throat. “Stoker was captured, and I was injured. That’s how I lost my leg. We were the lead going in but there were several ground units. When everything was shot to shit, all hell broke loose. Given what Stoker and I went through, we had no idea what happened after Stoker was deemed a prisoner of war and I was sent stateside. The mission is still deemed classified, but several men were lost, their bodies never found.”
“Is one of them the mayor’s son?” Garcia asked, swirling his beer.
Cooper looked at Stoker before answering. “Yes. Kevin Falk was believed to be missing in action for almost three years, but there have been reports that he surfaced, pictures of him working with the Taliban.”
“Wow. This is getting serious.” Boone shook his head.
“Very much so. Then the pictures stopped for no apparent reason. There have no additional sightings of him and no known whereabouts. All of this shit stays here.” Stoker looked around the room. “Got it?”
“Yeah, sure,” Landen said.
“Of course,” Boone added.
Riker lifted his beer bottle as did the others.
“All right. Cooper and I asked a hell of a lot of questions. Our old sergeant refused to say anything else except the man was considered armed and dangerous.” Stoker shrugged. “Just asking the questions has made this National Security. My guess is we’ll see the top brass coming in on this one, especially since we’re talking about Chris Camden, a four-star General.”
“In Missoula?” Garcia asked.
“Retired, or so we’ve been told,” Cooper said then rolled his eyes.