Cold Dawn

by Susan Sleeman

  The back was flame free, and she charged up the steps. She wanted to jerk open the door and go inside, but stopped.

  Griff had warned her. If she pulled open the door she could give the fire more oxygen and cause a backdraft. Then what? If he was inside, the renewed fire could kill both of them. He’d explained about backdrafts, but what did he say?

  Think. Think. Think.

  Feel the door. If it was hot, don’t open it. And look for smoke—chugging like being pushed out and sucked back in under the door. A dense and grayish-yellow smoke.

  She touched the door. It was cool.

  Relief flooded her body. She looked for the smoke. Saw none. She was going in. She tried the door, but it was locked. Her patrol days came back to her, and she turned to kick it in. The point where the deadbolt strike-plate was set was the weak point on a door. It was usually only attached with small three-quarter inch screws.

  “Please don’t let Griff have gone in for tighter security.” She aimed for the sweet spot. Kicked hard. Once. Twice. The wood moved but didn’t break. She kicked again. The jamb gave way.

  She pushed open the door and smoke instantly clouded her body. She pulled her T-shirt up to cover her mouth.

  “Griff!” She listened through the crackling fire.

  “Pepper!” she added when she thought about the puppy.

  She heard moaning ahead. Or at least she thought it was moaning. Maybe Griff. Maybe the fire.

  Instinct said to rush in, but she remembered his prior words.

  Get low.

  She dropped to the ground. Moved into the kitchen. Grabbed a towel and wetted it to tie it around her face. She crawled forward. “Griff! Pepper! Come here, girl.”

  The moaning got louder. The smoke thicker. Sirens sounded in the distance. Good. Fire trucks. But she couldn’t wait. Griff might not make it that long.

  She picked up speed, her knees bruising on the wood floor.

  She couldn’t see into the billowing smoke. Her eyes watered badly. She didn’t know how long she could stay in there. But she couldn’t give up on Griff.

  She placed a hand down. Felt flesh.

  Griff! Oh dear, God. Help me get him out of here.

  He was moaning. Not moving. But he was alive.

  Good. Good.

  She felt for anything holding him down and was shocked to find his mouth gagged. His hands tied. She tried to move him, but couldn’t budge his body. She reached down to his feet. He was tied to something.

  No. No. Dear God, no.

  She took a deep breath and pulled on him again. She coughed, the pain nearly making her turn and bolt in a panic to breathe.

  Still, the man she loved might lose his life. She might not be able to be with him, but she couldn’t let him die. She took off her towel and put it over his nose and mouth, then pulled her shirt back over her face. She crawled down to his feet. Dug her nails into the rope knot. It was tight. Too tight. She tried harder, but couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t budge it.

  Please. Please. I have to save him.

  “Fire department!” the man’s voice came from the back door.

  “In here! Help!” A coughing fit took over, and the spasms made her double over.

  Three firefighters in masks made their way through the smoke.

  “Here! He’s here.” She scooted out of the way. “His feet. They’re tied to something.”

  The firefighter grabbed her and pulled her toward the door.

  “No!” She yanked back furiously. “Griff. And Pepper. His puppy.” She coughed violently again.

  The firefighter pushed her through the back door. “We’ll take care of Griff.”

  She grabbed the doorjamb and tried to hold on, but lack of air left her too weak.

  He pulled her free and got her outside. She tried to gulp in the fresh air and collapsed on the ground. A medic picked her up and carried her to a nearby gurney. He strapped an oxygen mask on her face, but she couldn’t take her eyes from the door. Flames burst from a window on this side of the building as it shot up in flames.

  “No!” She tried to get up but the medic held her down.

  “No. Please,” she begged. “I have to get to Griff.”

  “Our guys have him. They won’t let one of our own down.”

  She had to be content with that. She stared at the door, wiping the tears away to better see. Smoke poured out the door. A firefighter’s jacket appeared through the smoke, a body slung over his shoulder.

  “Griff!”

  Oh, thank you!

  He hurried out and laid Griff on a gurney. The medic cut off Griff’s gag and strapped an oxygen mask on his face. She broke free and ran to him, pushing through the medics. “Griff. Please. Please be okay.”

  He didn’t move. She searched his face, covered with black soot. Fear shot through her. She shifted her focus to his chest. Saw it rise and fall shallowly.

  “Wake up, Griff,” she pleaded and nearly threw herself on his body.

  The chief came up to her and pulled her back. “Let my guys do their job.”

  The medics pushed the gurney into the back of the ambulance, slammed the doors, and the vehicle shot out, sirens wailing.

  She raised her face to look at him. “What about Pepper?”

  “No sign of her.”

  “Please keep looking.”

  “I’m sorry, the house is too involved to go back in.”

  “No. We can’t just leave her.” Sam started for the house.

  The chief grabbed her arm. She fought back, but it was futile. She was too weak and finally gave in. All she could do was pray that these brave men and women possessed the skills to keep Griff alive, and that somehow, little Pepper got out on her own.

  The medic strapped the oxygen mask on Sam’s face as the ambulance swayed in the rush to the hospital. She wanted to fight him, but what good would it do now? She couldn’t get away and get to Griff. He was in an ambulance on his way to the ER, too. She could only wait until she got there. Then she would find him. What would she tell him about Pepper—his baby girl?

  The medic sat back as the images consumed her brain—the terrifying smoke. Finding Griff on the floor. His arms and feet bound. His mouth gagged. Pepper missing.

  Sam’s heart convulsed, and if she wasn’t receiving oxygen she would’ve struggled for breath.

  How long had he lain there thinking he was going to die? What if Hannah hadn’t pushed Sam into going to see her mother? And Sam hadn’t decided to stop and talk to him?

  He would be dead. Murdered. Just like Andy.

  The killer had to be caught.

  She tugged down her oxygen mask to call Gage.

  “Hey now,” the medic said. “You need to keep that on.”

  “I need to make this phone call more.”

  He reached for her mask, and she gave him the same warning look she’d used as a patrol officer. Thankfully, she still had the look, and he backed off.

  She dialed Gage. “There was a fire at Griff’s house. He was tied and gagged.” She coughed. “I got there in time. Called 911. Found him inside. He’s on the way to the hospital. Me, too.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but Griff was unconscious. And I don’t know where Pepper is.” She paused to gasp more oxygen. “We have to find out who did it.”

  “I’ll meet you at the hospital.” Gage paused for a long moment. “And Sam, know that we’ll all be praying for Griff.”

  “Thank you,” she said, the reality really sinking in and tears forming in her eyes.

  She hung up and let the medic settle the mask back in place. She prayed for Griff again, too, tears pouring from her eyes as she implored God to help him. She couldn’t arrive at the hospital like this. She needed to be strong for Griff.

  She moved her thoughts to the investigation to stem her tears.

  Why would someone want to kill Griff? Did they think he knew something like they thought she did? It was the only thing that made sense. But what did they think she o
r Griff knew or even possessed?

  She’d considered it so many times over the last few days, and still, she couldn’t even begin to imagine. She drew in the fresh oxygen and tried to relax, hoping something would reveal itself, but the whiny sounds of the siren kept taking her focus back to Griff.

  What if she’d lost him? That was far scarier than him cheating on her. She’d been too busy focusing on trust to even consider his dangerous occupation. Could she deal with the agony of potential loss on a daily basis? She’d managed it when he was a SEAL, but then she was younger and naïve. Now she knew the dangers of the world. Knew loss and how people needlessly died.

  Fear like she’d never known before rose up and squeezed her heart. She wanted to say she finally could be with him no matter what. But now she didn’t know. Just didn’t know.

  Oh, God, please help me decide what to do. Don’t let my fears color my decisions. Help me see what You want me to do.

  The ambulance pulled into the ER drive, and the medic wasted no time rolling her into the building. She was met by a doctor near the door. She ripped off her mask. “Matt Griffin. Griff. He was brought in a few minutes ago. How’s he doing?”

  “Are you family?”

  “No. Friend.”

  “I’m sorry, but I—”

  “No!” She raised up on her elbows. “Don’t tell me you can’t give me any information. If you don’t update me I’ll be off this gurney and racing through your ER looking for him so fast you won’t know what happened.”

  “She’ll do it,” the medic said wryly. “I have firsthand knowledge of this. Besides, she risked her life trying to rescue Griff.”

  The doctor seemed unsure.

  “C’mon, Doc. He’s part of my battalion. Tell me at least.”

  “Fine. He’s inhaled a lot of smoke, but he’s conscious. Breathing as well as can be expected. If all goes well, he’ll spend the night with us and be released in the morning.”

  “Can I see him?” Sam asked.

  “After I examine you.”

  Sam wanted to argue, but she knew she would lose this battle. She would settle back. Let the doctor do the exam, and then? Then she’d go see Griff. And during this time, maybe she’d be able to figure out what in the world to say to him.

  Griff nodded at everything his chief said, though Griff really wasn’t listening. He’d stopped right after Chief said Sam ran into the house to save him. But why did she stop by his house in the first place? Was she coming to warn him or to tell him they might have a future together after all?

  A knock sounded on the door, and Griff looked up to see Gage and Blake standing on the other side of the glass door. Griff waved them in.

  “Glad to hear you’re going to be all right,” Gage said, the worry in his eyes evaporating.

  Griff ripped off the oxygen mask. “Sam? How is she?”

  “Doing fine. Worried about you. And your dog.”

  Griff blew a breath out over a raw and painful throat. He took a long draw on the oxygen mask. “I was going in for an early shift, and I dropped Pepper off with my sister.”

  “So she’s okay, then.” Gage’s shoulders relaxed. “Sam was so worried about her. She’ll be ecstatic to hear Pepper didn’t die in the fire.”

  “Yeah, please tell her.” He hated that she’d been so worried, but she would be relieved to know that Pepper was just fine.

  “Your chief here called me in,” Blake said, all business as usual. “Mind answering some questions so we can get the jerk who did this?”

  Griff lifted his mask. “We had Andy’s death all wrong.”

  “How’s that?” Blake took out his notepad.

  “You familiar with Reinaldo Aldridge?” he asked, a cough making its way up from his chest, and he couldn’t breathe until he got it out.

  “Yeah, sure,” Blake said, his eyes narrowing. “What law enforcement officer in the tri-county area doesn’t know about Aldridge?”

  “I’ve never heard of him,” Gage said.

  Blake shifted his focus to Gage. “Drug kingpin. Notoriously vicious. Controls the drug trade in three counties and is expanding his territory every day.”

  Gage’s eyes narrowed. “And Andy was mixed up with him?”

  Griff nodded. “Not because he wanted to be.”

  “Explain,” Blake nearly demanded.

  Griff looked at his chief. “Remember the house fire we responded to last month where I saved the dachshund puppy?”

  Chief rolled his eyes. “How could any of us forget that? Your face was plastered all over the TV as the dog hero.”

  “I remember seeing that story.” Gage tipped his head. “That was you, huh?”

  Griff nodded. “What we didn’t know is the house is owned by Aldridge, but it’s in his mother’s name. Apparently, he’d stashed a huge cache of money in the room where I found the puppy.”

  “Did you see the money?” Blake asked.

  Griff shook his head. “The room was too filled with smoke to see much of anything. I got lucky and found the puppy right away. The room sustained minimal fire damage, but even after we contained the fire and I went back into the house, I didn’t see any cash.”

  “So no cash,” Blake said. “Someone must have taken it.”

  Chief crossed his arms. “No one in my department.”

  “I wasn’t thinking they did,” Blake said. “Was thinking it happened before the fire broke out.”

  “Exactly.” Griff nodded. “Someone stole the money then started the fire to cover it up. But Aldridge saw me on the news and assumed I took the money.”

  Gage narrowed his eyes. “Okay, but how does Andy fit in this?”

  “Aldridge wanted his money back but knew my past as a SEAL and was leery of me. He discovered Andy was staying with me and dug into his past. Somehow found out about his theft and threatened to out Andy if he didn’t turn over the cash.”

  “But Andy had proof he didn’t embezzle.”

  “Exactly, and he told Aldridge that. So he offered Andy a cut of the money.” Griff rubbed his forehead to try to ease a headache. “Andy needed money to marry Tina, so he agreed to help recover the cash.”

  “But Andy couldn’t find it because you didn’t have it,” Blake said.

  Griff nodded and took another long breath of oxygen. “And when he didn’t produce it, Aldridge spoofed the email from Oscar and got Andy to meet him. He took him to the cannery to scare him. But someone arrived and spooked them. Aldridge’s goon clamped a hand over Andy’s mouth to keep him quiet. Literally scared Andy to death, his heart failing. When they realized he was dead, the goons bolted. They saw a man sneak into the building with gasoline and spread it around, so problem solved.”

  “Timms’ handy work,” Blake said.

  “Yes.”

  “But what about the fire that was started to kill Sam?” Gage asked.

  “Aldridge’s guys were instructed to burn the place to the ground to eliminate evidence of Andy’s death. He didn’t know Sam was there. His guys did, but they didn’t care. They had a job to do, and they wouldn’t go back to the ruthless Aldridge without taking care of business. Not when they’d seen buddies die for less.”

  “So they set the fire, even if it meant killing her,” Blake said.

  Griff nodded.

  “What about when the truck was riddled with bullets?” Gage asked.

  “Aldridge’s guy thought I’d gone to the storage unit to get the money. That I had it in the truck. And he was going to recover it.”

  Gage’s eyes narrowed. “But he fired at Sam, not you.”

  “He wanted me to crash but not go in the ocean. And shots fired at Sam, who’d already been threatened, wouldn’t raise questions about why they wanted to kill me.”

  “And when he didn’t get a chance to check your truck, Aldridge’s men ransacked your place.”

  “You got it.”

  Blake narrowed his eyes. “So it was about you all this time.”

  Griff nodded and a wave of gui
lt flooded him. “If I hadn’t talked to that reporter, Andy would be alive.”

  “Not your fault, man.” Gage clapped a hand on Griff’s shoulder. “It’s all on Aldridge. Don’t go back to that place you just made your way out of.”

  Griff nodded, but since Sam didn’t want to be with him, he wasn’t sure he could remain faithful to his newfound promises to accept the way things were. To accept God’s will for his life. He wanted to, but the deep ache in his gut had him questioning again.

  “One thing I don’t get,” Blake said. “If Aldridge thought you had the money, why try to kill you tonight?”

  Griff didn’t want to talk about his failure. About letting a couple of low-level goons get the drop on him, but he had to. “Aldridge was desperate to get his money back. Thought he could torture me into telling him where the money was. His men got the drop on me. Tied me up. Then Aldridge got a call.” He paused to catch his breath. “One of his punks died in a drive-by, and when they went to his house to clean out his things, they found the money. But by then I’d seen Aldridge and the goons’ faces. Knew about the money. About Andy. So I had to die.”

  Blake shook his head. “You willing to testify against Aldridge and his men?”

  “Of course,” Griff said. “And Emory’s forensics on the bullet casing should match one of them and you can charge him with that as well.”

  “And, on another note,” Gage looked at Blake. “I’ve got a forensic accountant looking at files from Flint Accounting where Andy worked. I want to make sure his name is cleared of embezzlement. Can you help with that once my guy has his facts together?”

  “Of course. I can bring it to PPB to investigate.”

  “Thanks to you both for that,” Griff said.

  Blake tucked his notepad into his pocket. “I’ll get back to you after we haul Aldridge and his punks in.”

  He turned to leave, and Griff’s mouth dropped open. Sam sat in his doorway in a wheelchair. He drank in the sight of her. Her face was smudged black, and she also wore an oxygen mask. Her clothes were soot covered, and her hair in disarray, but she’d never looked more beautiful to him.