24. Josh
24
JOSH
As soon as Lyla hangs up to call 9-1-1, I grab my phone with trembling hands, my fingers barely managing to dial the non-emergency line. The seconds it takes to connect feel like hours, each one a reminder that Lyla and Richard are still in danger.
My heartbeat echoes in my ears, a relentless drumbeat urging me to act faster, to do whatever I have to in order to save them.
“Trace the call,” I bark into the phone the moment Kennedy’s partner—someone new, someone who doesn’t yet recognize the urgency in my voice—answers. “Trace it now,” I demand, my tone brooking no argument. My mind races with the possibilities of what could be happening to them, and the dread of not knowing gnaws at me. “We might not have long before the line disconnects. Let’s pray we get a phase two location.” I’m not one to pray often, but right now, I’m ready to beg any higher power for a miracle.
Nia whispers something to Lyla, and I hear her crying. Suddenly, Lyla’s terrified scream pierces through the air, sharp and jagged, slicing through my resolve and leaving nothing but raw fear in its wake. The abrupt silence that follows, marked only by the ominous click of the line disconnecting, sends an icy shiver down my spine. My stomach clenches as my mind races with the nightmare that is coming to life right in front of us, each horrifying scenario worse than the last.
I don’t even have my gun, since I’m in my bunker gear. Grabbing Nia’s trembling hand, I move back toward the house as I wait silently for the dispatcher to refresh her screen. Okay, I’m not patient.
“Hurry the fuck up,” I snap, unable to keep the desperation from seeping into my voice. My free hand clenches into a fist, nails digging into my palm as if the pain might somehow ground me. “Do you have it?” I repeat, the words coming out harsher than intended, but I don’t have the luxury of politeness right now. Every delay feels like a death sentence, and I can’t afford to wait any longer.
“Yes, sir.” Kennedy’s voice comes through, calm and composed, a stark contrast to the chaos brewing inside me. “They’re about two miles in on the dirt road off the hospital’s emergency route,” she continues, her fingers probably flying across the keyboard as she pulls up the details. I picture her staring intently at the screen, her brow furrowed as she works against the clock. “I’m waiting for the satellite image to load,” she adds, the pause between her words a lifetime long. “There’s an old hunting camp out there, I think.” The tension in the air is palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on us all. “Yes. That’s where they are. The signal’s pinging within thirty meters of that location,” she confirms, and my heart lurches in my chest.
Thirty meters.
That’s close enough to save them.
It has to be.
There’s no other option.
“If she calls back, patch her through to my phone right away. No delays,” I instruct, my voice a low growl as I try to keep my emotions in check. “Get in touch with the sheriff and Chief Townsend. Give them the location, but don’t let this go over the radio. We don’t know who might be listening.” The words are bitter on my tongue. Knowing that we’re dealing with someone from within our own ranks makes it all the more treacherous. Trust is a fragile thing, and right now, it’s in dangerously short supply.
“Sir,” Kennedy cuts in, sounding every inch the professional she is. “Is this connected to the arson and the meeting this morning?”
“Yes,” I confirm, my voice flat and devoid of emotion.
There’s no need for dramatics here, no point in making things more complicated than they already are. The situation is dire enough without adding unnecessary weight to it. But the single syllable carries the weight of everything we’ve been dealing with. The fires, the deaths, the betrayal. It’s all coming to a head now, and I can’t shake the knowledge that things are going to get a lot worse before they get better.
“Done. I’ll alert signal one thousand on this.”
She hangs up without another word.
“Let’s go.” I sprint in the other direction, not wanting to use the radio on my shoulder just in case Laura is monitoring the channels.
It feels like hours have passed by the time I reach the front of the building, but in reality, it’s been less than two minutes. My lungs burn, my breath coming in ragged gasps, but I don’t stop. The fire that once raged through the house is now subdued, only wisps of smoke curling from the windows. The scene is a stark contrast to the chaos brewing inside me, but I push the thoughts away, focusing solely on the task at hand. There’s no room for doubt, no time for hesitation.
“Chief.” I nod, gesturing subtly away from Rich and Ella, who are both staring at me with wide, desperate eyes. Their hope is pinned on me, and I can feel the weight of it pressing down on my shoulders. “Nia. Can you handle them?” My voice cracks slightly, but I don’t need to say anything more. She knows what I’m asking. What I’m begging her to do.
Without a word, Nia moves to where Richard’s foster mom, Trish, has now joined the group. The sight of the three women, huddled together in their shared fear, is almost enough to break me, but I can’t afford to fall apart now. I need to keep it together for all of them. But especially for Lyla and Richard.
“I need you to stay calm…” Nia’s voice is low and soothing as she leads them just out of earshot. It’s a mercy because what I’m about to say isn’t something they need to hear. They’re already hanging by a thread, and I’m not about to be the one who snaps it. As soon as they’re out of range, I turn my full attention to Chief, steeling myself for the conversation ahead.
“Laura has the kids,” I whisper urgently as soon as Chief is close enough. My voice trembles, and I can’t bring myself to look away from Nia, who’s doing her best to comfort Ella and Trish. “Lyla managed to call Nia, and we got her to dial 9-1-1. We were able to ping her location, but…” I swallow hard, trying to push down the panic threatening to overwhelm me. “Lyla said Laura had something that smelled funny. Like chemicals. She’s taken them to an old hunting camp, maybe two miles out.” The words hang heavy in the air between us, a grim reminder of just how far this situation has spiraled out of control.
Fire blazes in his eyes, and I think for a second that he’ll insist on being part of the rescue. Instead, he shakes his head. “You can’t go.”
“You can’t stop me,” I retort, my voice harsh and unyielding. There’s no room for negotiation here, no space for doubt. “You’re the one who made me a cop again, even after I told you I didn’t want the badge back. You made me take this on, so I’m going.” The words tumble out, fueled by the adrenaline surging through my veins. I’m done asking for permission. There’s only one thing that matters now. Getting those kids out alive.
Before he can protest, I turn on my heel and march away, my resolve solidifying with every step. There’s no time for second-guessing, no room for hesitation. I’m not waiting for orders. I’m taking control, because if I don’t, there’s a very real chance that Lyla and Richard won’t make it out of this alive. And that’s something I won’t allow.
Admittedly, it is a dick move since I don’t bring Nia or anyone else with me. What I do, however, is grab the oxygen pack from the back of the ambulance. I don’t worry about a first aid kit, since I have one in my truck.
I may not be a paramedic, but I have been certified as an EMT. And while I love Nia and the rest of her family, I won’t be responsible for one of them jeopardizing our ability to bring Lyla and Richard home safe.
The sight of Nia standing in the middle of the road, watching me leave, burns itself into my memory. Her silhouette in the rearview mirror, small and distant, makes my chest tighten with a pain I can’t afford to acknowledge right now. Her phone call comes ten seconds later, the ringtone a sharp reminder of the connection we share. I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over the answer button, but I don’t pick up. I can’t. Not when I know what I’ll hear in her voice. I know there will be fear, desperation, maybe even anger. I silence the call, swallowing the guilt that rises up like bile in my throat.
I’ll make it up to her.
I have a job to do.
And she will forgive me when I get it done.
I hope.
Picking up my phone, I dial Chief Townsend’s direct line instead.
“You meeting us there?” He doesn’t sound surprised in the slightest to hear my call.
“Yes, sir. I’m not missing it.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” he counters. “I’ve got a kid just as stubborn as you. If it were his family in danger, there wouldn’t be any stopping him.”
I hear a snort and someone in the background grunts, “Damn straight.”
“Be there in two,” I tell him before I hang up.
When I pull up to the already gathering police cruisers, I strip off my bunker jacket and step out of the truck, leaving my pants on. Once I have my arms free, I grab my badge and gun from the locked glovebox from the back seat of my truck.
“Harmon,” Dominic Ortiz, a police officer with Birch Harbor PD, greets me. He has a long rifle in his hand, but he isn’t strapping it to his shoulder.
“You got this, Emma?” He turns to a small blond female at his side.
“Yup.” She takes the rifle, which likely weighs more than she does, and grips it like it weighs nothing more than a feather. Then she salutes me and walks into the woods.
Dom shrugs when I catch his eye questioningly. “She’s a better shot than I am.”
The rest of the men, his team, agree. Then they start giving Dom shit about his feelings for the pint-sized officer and how she’s got him by the dick.
“That’s my little sister, you monsters.” Linc Hayes, another officer, shakes his head. “Heard we’re taking out a crazy woman today.”
“She’s got Nia’s niece and a little boy.” I fill them in on all of the details, and none of them are the least bit surprised to hear that it is Laura D’mato holding them.
“We don’t have time.” Emma’s voice comes through the mic on Dom’s shoulder. “She just doused the couch with something. I didn’t get the rifle up in time to see it. I don’t think I can take the shot without endangering the kids.”
“No.” I shake my head. “She’s got turpentine and kerosene in there. Don’t do anything that could spark it.”
I’m running down the dirt road before anyone else can stop me. Yeah, they are all former Marines, and there is no doubt that on any ordinary day, they could beat my ass when it comes to racing around a track.
But this isn’t a track, and I’ve carried heavier gear than what I’m wearing on a regular basis. None of them have more to lose in this fight than I do.
And none of them are going to get in my way.
I get there first and don’t bother waiting for them to catch up.
Gasping for air, I crash through the door of the dilapidated camp to find Laura staring at a crying Lyla with wild eyes.
“Back off, psycho,” Lyla is yelling. “You’re not going to hurt us. If you try, my daddy’s gonna help me murder you and I won’t even get caught or in trouble for it. You’re just a stupid potato.”
Then they realize they aren’t alone anymore, and she doesn’t move. Her hand is locked in Richard’s, and he is staring straight ahead with a glassy expression.
Laura, however, does. She whirls on me, her hair a soot-filled mess. The blue shirt with red letters, the same one she wore when she saved lives, seems like a bad joke.
“Laura?” I hold up my hands, showing her that I don’t have my gun. The smell hits me, and I know I made the right choice. She’s soaked everything in the extremely flammable combination. “Laura. What are you doing?”
She opens her mouth and closes it again, confusion written on her face. “Josh? What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here. There’s a fire.” She sounds wrong, off somehow.
“Laura, did you take something?”
“I wasn’t going to hurt that little girl,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes. “I didn’t know she was there. I was so careful, Josh.” She steps forward, away from the kids, and I move to the side. When she follows me, I do it again, clearing the path for Lyla and Richard to get out.
“How about I stay with you, and the kids go?”
“They followed me, Josh.” Laura points accusingly at Lyla. “She called someone. I heard her on the phone and surprised her, but he pushed me out of the way. I had to do it.”
“Had to do what, Laura?”
“I had to make them stop. So I’m making them stop.”
“No.” I shake my head and try my best to smile at her. It comes out as more of a grimace, but it is all I can manage. “No, you don’t need to make them stop. Lyla only called me. And I’m here. So we’re going to let the kids go, and then you and I are going to talk.”
When she doesn’t say anything, I hold out a protective hand, motioning for Lyla to come to me.
As soon as she steps within my reach, I have her by the hand and pull both her and Richard out the door to safety.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Laura cries again. “That little girl. I didn’t mean for her to die. But the fire department, Josh. You’ve seen them. They deserve every single bad thing that happens. Nothing good.”
“You’re wrong,” I tell her. “I liked you, Laura. You were good people. What happened to you?”
I say the wrong thing. I know it as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I can’t stop them from coming out.
As soon as I see the lighter in her hand, I shake my head. “Don’t do it, Laura. Just don’t.”
Laura’s eyes hold a hard glint. One that I recognize as acceptance and determination. “It was always the plan, Josh.” She smiles. “Thank you for making sure I’m not going alone.”
For one brief second I think I’ll get through the door in time before the flames chew through the air and bite into my skin.
I don’t move fast enough.
During a fire, there are multiple stages. But the most dangerous is called the flashover. Before the flashover, you have a solid chance of getting out. Of making it to safety. But you get stuck in the flashover, and you don’t stand a chance.
All the chemicals Laura poured in that old camp, combined with years of neglect and the dry wood that is ready to go up, and flashover happens immediately.
When the fire slams into my side, my head slams into something hard.
I won’t make it.
But Laura won’t be hurting anyone else.
I’m fine with dying.
I’ll miss Nia.
Miss the life we could have together.
But…
Both Richard and Lyla are safe.
At least I gave her that.