“What? They’d amputate?”
“If enough tissue dies, they’re going to have to. Kylie said Cadence is pretty sure that’s happening today.” Kylie was one of the nurses at the hospital.
“Shit, that’s…fuck.” Metcalf sat back and closed his eyes.
“Yeah. It’s bad.” Kyle rubbed his thighs. “There’s no circulation, so it’s only getting worse.”
Metcalf scrubbed a hand over his face. “He’s going to have it rough. But if anyone has enough to keep going for, it’s him.”
“Yeah, but this was his life. He’s never even considered doing anything else,” Kyle argued.
“I’ll go see him soon. Talk some sense into him,” Metcalf promised.
“We’re all going to need to be there to help him through,” Kyle said.
The bells rang, sending them to the fancy part of town.
“What the hell?” Metcalf asked as he shot to his feet and headed to the truck.
Isandro charged over. “You know that address?”
“Yeah, Madison Charles.”
“Oh, great. I hope to God Marissa is okay.”
Chapter 32
Marissa and Brian walked up to the door and knocked. No one answered. Nada. Marissa turned to Brian. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
She rang the bell.
“Come in!” someone shouted hysterically.
They shared another look, and Marissa reached for the knob.
The door was unlocked. She pushed it open and drew her gun. Muffled sounds came from upstairs. They cleared the first floor before moving upstairs.
First room was clear, so was the second. They found Chelsea tied to a chair with duct tape over her mouth behind the third. Her body spasmed with muffled coughs, then wheezing breaths.
The stench of gasoline rolled out of the room.
“Call for backup,” she told Brian, moving into the room to clear it. “Hang on, Chelsea. We’ll get you out of here. Got to find Madison.”
He made the call to dispatch while looking up and down the hall. Marissa checked everywhere in the room but didn’t find anyone else.
Something crashed downstairs. “Stay, I’ll find her,” Brian said before hurrying back the way they’d come.
Marissa focused on Chelsea. “Quiet, don’t scream,” Marissa whispered, then pulled the tape.
“She’s go-going to…” Chelsea gasped for breath. “Set me on fire.” A coughing fit started as she tried to double over, but the ropes held her tight.
The fire alarm screeched and Chelsea struggled harder.
There wasn’t a proper protocol for this fucked up situation. Marissa couldn’t help Brian search without leaving Chelsea alone, and Chelsea was having trouble breathing.
“Calm down, I’ll get you out of here.” Marissa moved around the back of the chair and pulled out the knife she had clipped inside her vest.
She had Chelsea’s wrists free when she shouted, “She’s coming!”
Marissa moved in front of Chelsea, drawing her gun.
Madison came around the corner with a gun in her hand. “This whore poisoned my only son against me!” Madison screamed.
“Drop the gun,” Marissa stated.
Madison’s eyes narrowed as they swung her way. “She needs to die. You were smart. You walked away when I brought the divorce papers. This wretch—my son told me he wants me out of his life. This is the only way to save him.”
“Madison, drop the gun. You shoot and you can’t fix this.”
“I’m fixing this now!” Madison lifted the gun, pulling the trigger.
Marissa shot her in the heart as pain seared across her bicep. That burned, but she moved forward as Madison dropped the gun and slid down the wall. The light faded from her eyes as she gasped her last breath.
Marissa kicked her gun away and felt her pulse.
Dead. Empty, soulless eyes stared back.
Her hands started to tremble.
No choice. It was kill or be killed.
Smoke filled the hall, flames flickering up the stairs.
She slammed the door shut and yanked a comforter off the bed. After stuffing it between the floor and the door, she sawed through the ropes holding Chelsea to the chair.
Brian came across the radio. His voice was gruff, pained. “Marissa? Shit! I can’t get up there.”
“Call nine-one-one.”
“Already did. Tried to stop her. She hit me with a pan and threw a cigarette on the gas.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, but you? Chelsea?”
“Will be. Got to get her out of here. She can’t breathe.” The ropes fell.
Chelsea tried to stand and fell to her knees, as another coughing fit hit.
Marissa pulled Chelsea to her feet. “We got to get outside.”
She helped Chelsea to the window and managed to open it one-armed. Then she assisted Chelsea onto the eave.
Heat built in the room. She hadn’t had a chance to really look, but she was guessing it had been Carson’s.
Shit, she didn’t want to think anymore. Would Madison have resorted to this kind of crazy if Marissa had stayed and fought for Carson?
Forcing morbid thoughts out of her head, she shut the window. “We need to move away from the windows.”
Chelsea nodded, clinging to Marissa while she struggled to breathe through the coughing fits. She moved them to the edge and between the windows, hoping if the fire blew them out, they’d be out of the way of the heat and glass.
A fire truck pulled up the driveway. “See, the firefighters are here. They’ll get you down. A medic shouldn’t be far behind. You’ll be breathing like normal in a few minutes,” she promised.
Metcalf’s eyes locked on hers a second before he maneuvered the truck up alongside the house. As soon as the truck came to a halt, the guys jumped out and went to work. The ladder was extended while the other fire truck went to work on the fire itself.
“Is-is Carson…okay?” Chelsea asked.
“Honestly, I have no clue. Officers Sloan and Bridges went to the hospital to take his statement. Detective Cox and I came here to talk to Madison, hoping to find you. When we get down, we can call, okay?” She didn’t bother to mention she had worried Chelsea might try to do something to Madison.
Chelsea started coughing again as the truck backed in toward the house. “She paid someone.” She dropped to her knees, doubling over with the coughing.
Marissa knelt down and rubbed her back. “It’s okay, Chelsea. Breathe.”
“She fra-framed me.”
“Yeah, I figured that. She’s crazy. Wanted to control Carson,” Marissa said. “Look, let them get your breathing under control, then take care of him. But remember, I moved on. I wish you two the best, but please, leave me out of it.”
Chelsea nodded, clinging to her arm as she hacked up her lungs.
“Never hurt Carson.” She gasped for breath. “Love him.”
“Relax. They’re almost here. And Carson fought for you. Remember that. He didn’t fight for me.”
Chelsea wrapped her in a hug.
Marissa patted her back as Isandro and Trent stepped onto the eave.
“Why the fuck are you bleeding?” Isandro demanded.
Marissa glanced at her arm. Blood covered most of it, but it looked like the bullet had only grazed her. “Madison shot at me.”
Trent’s eyes went wide. “She what?”
Chelsea gripped her shoulder, and Marissa held her up.
“Help her,” Marissa told Trent. “She needs a breathing treatment.” She glanced at her arm again. “And this is just a flesh wound.” She managed a half-cocked smile.
Isandro’s eyes narrowed, but he turned, picked Chelsea up, and carried her down the ladder.
Trent put his hand on her shoulder. “Where is Madison?”
“Dead. I shot her in the chest. No pulse. That was before the fire climbed the stairs. But you’re not safely getting to her. There’s
a chair between the window and door and it’s covered in gasoline. The floor is covered with it. You’re not saving her.”
He crept toward the window to look and moved back. “Yeah, let’s get you down.”
Trent got on the ladder first and made sure she had her footing before starting down.
Halfway down the glass blew out of the window, fire leaping through. A shudder rocked through Marissa as she reached the bottom and was lifted off her feet and into someone’s arms. She turned her head, and Metcalf’s mouth covered hers in a bruising kiss. Her arms locked around his neck.
He set her down, gently taking her arm in his hand. “What happened?”
“You’ll have to finish the investigation without me.”
“Why?” he asked in alarm.
She pressed her hand over the wound that had started to throb. “Had to fire my weapon. There will be an investigation.”
He ran his thumb under the wound. “You killed Madison?”
“Didn’t have much choice.”
“Hey, I know you did what you had to. You okay?”
She nodded.
Brian hurried toward her. “Shit, you had me worried. What happened?”
She told him the whole story, knowing she’d repeat it a hundred more times before she was allowed to go home.
“I should have stayed with you.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered,” she answered. Or maybe it would. Maybe one of them could have stopped Madison before she fired.
Brian shook his head. “Saw something interesting on my way out of the house. The shed has a some of what was stolen from the hardware store.”
“You’re sure?” Metcalf asked.
“Sure as hell looked like it. Get the fire out and we can worry about that,” Brian stated.
Marissa shook her head. By the time they could go back, someone would be on the scene to start the investigation. With her firing her weapon, they were going to take her back to the precinct, put her in a room, and ask her a million questions. With her brief relation to Madison through marriage, she expected the worst.
One of the medics came over. “We need to take a look at you.”
Metcalf touched her face and ran his thumb over her lips. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
She let out a sigh. “Could be hours. I’ll call you when I can.”
“You got it.” He backed away and joined his team.
Katy, one of the paramedics, led her back to the ambulance. She quickly cleaned up the wound and bandaged it. “You’re lucky. She didn’t hit muscle, but it’s deep enough you need stitches. You’ll be going to the hospital when we have another ambulance.”
Her arm throbbed, but didn’t really hurt at the moment.
Katy nodded at Brian. “How’s the head?”
He shrugged. “Nothing a couple Advil can’t fix.” He turned to Marissa. “Can’t believe she shot you.”
Katy shook her head. “You’re still going in. You likely have a concussion.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Brian smirked. “Means I get to see Kylie before I’m off.”
Rolling her eyes, Marissa turned to Katy. “You get Chelsea’s breathing under control?”
“Yeah, but she definitely has a concussion. She’s already on the way to the hospital. Going to try to get her next to her fiancé.”
Chief Zerr pulled up. Another car followed with two people.
“Did they get an investigator that fast?” Brian asked in amazement.
Marissa shrugged. “That or they finally have the feds taking over. Either way, I’m betting this case is out of our hands now.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Shit, Brian. Do you really think Carson is going to let this go?”
“If his own mother poisoned him, yeah.”
“Maybe.” And maybe not. Maybe listening to what he’d had to say the other night would have been wise, but she didn’t want to be involved in his affairs.
Chief Zerr walked up, followed by two men in suits. She gave Marissa a long look. “I’m going to need your firearm, and you’ll need to go to the precinct as soon as you’re done with the hospital. Investigators Warner and Mission will conduct the investigation. This is Detective Cortez and Detective Cox.”
Without hesitation, she handed over her gun and knife.
“Are you okay?” Zerr asked.
“Yeah. Chelsea’s out of that nightmare. The fires should stop.” She rubbed at her head. “What do you need me to do?”
Warner nodded to the ambulance. “First, take care of your arm. We have questions, and we need to confirm Mrs. Charles is dead. But I don’t expect this to take long.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
“Chelsea Bauer called nine-one-one and threw the phone somewhere in the room. We were listening from before you arrived on scene, to after you both fired your weapons.”
Her head tipped to the side. “Did she confess?”
“Full confession to hiring the arsonist, how she poisoned her son, knowing he wouldn’t die, but hoping he would assume Chelsea did it.”
Marissa nodded her head, unsure what to say.
“Detective Cox, you need to hand over your weapon as well,” Investigator Mission pointed out.
He frowned, but didn’t question it. “Of course.”
Zerr lifted a single shoulder. “Sorry. You were on the premises. It’s the same investigation.”
“Not arguing,” Brian stated.
* * * *
Metcalf helped put the fire out. It started downstairs, in the kitchen. This time, no one went for the gas lines. They just used a shit-ton of accelerant everywhere.
Madison Charles had lost her damned mind, and probably her eyebrows before going upstairs to threaten Chelsea again. What the hell was she thinking, and why the fuck wasn’t Brian with Marissa when the fire started? Where had he been?
The fire had spread up the stairs, and they worked on putting it out. Fortunately, other than a few charred pieces of furniture, the fire went out easily.
Then he spotted the blackened corpse in the middle of the hall. Flashes of watching Guy burn alive spiraled through his head as he closed his eyes and took a long breath.
“You okay?” Isandro asked.
“Mmhmm,” he answered and moved on, focusing on the job at hand. “Think Marissa will be okay?”
“Yeah. She’s tough, and she’s got us.”
“Damn straight.”
Looked like Madison had poured gasoline in the kitchen and up the stairs, about three quarters of the way to lead the fire where she wanted.
It didn’t appear that Madison had suffered. She’d fallen back after being shot. She’d probably died instantly. And Marissa had been focused on getting Chelsea out. Hopefully, that dampened any trauma.
The fire had spread down the hall and into the room in front of Madison. The chair still smoldered and they put it out. What would have happened if Marissa hadn’t gotten there in time?
Marissa was already gone by the time they had the fire out. So was Brian. There was something he needed to do before he could take them back to the firehouse. He went around to the shed that Brian had mentioned and opened the door.
Isandro asked. “What’s all this?”
He hadn’t expected anyone to follow him. “I think we found proof Madison was involved with the fires. I need someone to bring me bags and gloves. We need to take all of it in.”
Ramirez came back with Chief Zerr and another man. Chief Zerr reached Metcalf. “This is Investigator Jonas. He’ll be taking over from here. He may have questions for you.”
Investigator Jonas pulled out a notepad. “David Metcalf?”
He nodded. “That’s me. How can I help?”
“For starters, your number. Then tell me what you know about the case. Has Detective Cortez told you everything they’ve learned?”
“Not yet. I know she was waiting on the lab reports on what she found in a van the other day.”
He glanced into th
e shed. “In your opinion, were these some of what was stolen?”
“From what I know of the robbery, I’d say yes.”
“That’s what I suspected. Go finish up. I’ll be back at the firehouse later to talk with you.”
“Of course.” Metcalf turned and walked away. Isandro caught up with a raised brow. With someone from county stepping in, they needed to take the backseat and only help when asked.
Ramirez caught up at the truck. “You knew this was going to be escalated.”
“Yeah, and I’m not complaining, but it would have been nice if they had stepped in before Marissa had to shoot someone to protect another.”
“Unfortunately, I couldn’t get them to move their asses any faster. But without the van, we didn’t know who to go after. Now we have evidence tying them all together. Relax. Jonas assures me he’ll keep you in the loop and wants to see how you both came to your conclusions. He wants to give you the investigator role, if you still want it.”
“Is Lauren leaving official?”
“It hasn’t been announced, but yes. She put in her resignation. They want to hire you.”
“And I can still do both? Because until we have someone to replace Gavin and Mitch, I don’t want to screw us over.”
“As long as you want to do both, the job is yours. He’s already impressed by the reports and notes you’ve taken.”
“All right. Look, let me get back to the firehouse. I want to see if I can find anything out about Marissa yet.”
He shook his head. “Go ahead, but don’t get too frustrated. They won’t let her call for a while. After she’s done at the hospital, she’ll be back at the precinct for the questioning. They will rule in her favor.”
“Hope so. I’m glad it’s over, but I wish we could have stopped this mess.”
Chapter 33
Marissa made it home around five. Two hours in the hospital and another three at the station. She wanted to decompress before talking to anyone. Even Dave.
She told herself she wasn’t shutting down, but she was. She needed time to sort her warring thoughts and emotions. No one believed she wanted to kill Madison, but a little voice in her head kept casting shadows.
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