Chapter 7
SEVEN
Sam stifled a yawn as she dunked the oversized sponge in the sudsy bucket of water in the engine bay.
She’d been thinking about how the stunt Bella had pulled yesterday could affect their future. How long would it take to pack their belongings?
Since entering WITSEC, Sam had made every effort to live as a minimalist, so if they ever had to leave at the drop of a hat, there wasn’t much to pack. If they had to move and change their identities because Bella got into trouble, the Marshals would remind them of that fact at every turn.
Thinking about picking up and leaving filled her with grief. She’d have to cut ties with her colleagues, people she considered family. They’d be safe, but she’d be brokenhearted.
Even though the sun was shining and there was a nice breeze, perfect for washing the engine, a sense of foreboding hovered over her.
She felt much like that donkey who kept losing his tail in the old stories.
She wasn’t a psychiatrist, but she was pretty certain he suffered from clinical depression.
She attacked the front bumper of Engine 4, water splashing on the driveway.
Nothing distracted a person like scrubbing bug guts off their engine.
Not the worst option, though running on the treadmill or doing some weightlifting would be better.
Only, it was wash day, and there was still a job to do.
Exhausted or not. She’d worked on less sleep.
As punishment, Sam had given Bella a list of chores to keep her busy. She was getting more than just a suspension from school. It was not a vacation—Sam would make sure of it.
Murph walked around the front of the engine with the water hose. “If you scrub that any harder, you’re going to wear a hole in the chrome.” Murph was six foot two with red hair, green eyes, and pale skin. Not a fiery red. More of a subdued, darker red.
Sam sighed. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“Isabella?” He rinsed the soap from the bumper she’d just scrubbed.
“Yeah.” She tossed the sponge in the bucket and shook the excess water from her hands.
Sam looked at her watch. “You think Captain Bennett will be done soon? I might talk to him about some sort of community service for Bella to do. Something around the station that can help her understand the seriousness of what she did.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“No.” She patted him on the shoulder, then grabbed the bucket and took it back to the bay. She’d grab some microfiber towels to dry the engine. Water spots were unprofessional. They took pride in their station and their equipment. The better care they took of everything, the longer it lasted.
The station alarm sounded.
Murph raced back into the bay with the hose. She set the bucket to the side, out of the way, and raced to her turnout gear, lined up against the wall.
“Williams, you’re sitting this one out,” Lieutenant Fischer yelled across the empty bay.
She’d just plunged her feet through her pants and into her boots.
Was she being punished for what Bella had done? That couldn’t be it. She’d been on other fire calls since the incident.
“Why?” She hitched the suspenders over her shoulders.
Lieutenant Fischer stopped in front of her, his face an emotionless mask.
She couldn’t discern anything about what was going on in his head, but he looked her in the eye. She wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
Finally, he spoke. “The call. It’s your house.”
Her coworkers gearing up and rushing to the engine faded to the background as her throat constricted. “I have to go.”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t. Take your car and meet us there.” He turned to the engine.
“Please, sir. I won’t do anything once I’m there, I promise. Just let me ride along. I’ll get there faster that way.” If she had to drive herself, she’d be way behind the engine. It could speed, and people moved over for red lights and sirens. “Bella is home alone.”
His face hardened as he stared her down. “Get in. But you stand on the perimeter, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She climbed into the engine, then pulled the phone out of her duty pants and dialed Bella. Straight to voicemail. She slammed it against her thigh. “Come on, Bella.”
Bella was technically grounded from her phone, but Sam had left it at the house in case of emergencies. Surely she would see it was Sam calling and answer.
She dialed again.
Voicemail.
Greer reached over and cupped her shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay. We got this.” Determination covered his face.
She gulped.
They might have the fire, but what about Bella?
At the end of the day, all they had was each other. If she lost her sister, she would have nothing worth holding on to.
Sam couldn’t explain it, but the ride to her house blinked by. Yet, at the same time, it felt like it took an hour.
The house was fully engulfed. Her stomach sank and her eyes burned. Her living room was perfect fodder for a flashover. An enclosed room with synthetic, combustible materials.
How it started and what was going on weren’t the most important things at the moment though. Where was Bella?
Sam’s gaze swept the bystanders as Murph staged the engine. Bella wasn’t among them. She dialed Bella’s phone again, but with the same result.
The teen’s voicemail connected. “Hey, it’s Bella. Why are you calling me? Send a text.” Followed by a beep.
“Bella.” Sam’s voice cracked. “Call me immediately.” She scanned the street in both directions. Maybe the teen had gone for a walk or something.
While her coworkers unloaded and started fighting the fire, Sam went to each person standing around and asked if anyone had seen Bella.
Nausea grew with each no.
Sam held her stomach and watched the flames devour her home. Black spots danced in her vision. Where was her sister? She bit her lip until a metallic taste filled her mouth.
Finally, the flames were put out, and the guys were able to make entry into the house. She rushed toward her front door, but Lieutenant Fischer grabbed her around the waist and held her back.
“You can’t go in there. You know it.”
She fought his grip. “I’ve got to see.”
“Samantha. Stop.” He wrapped her in a restraining bear hug. “Let them do their jobs.”
“It’s not their house or their sister.” She screamed and fought harder. “Let me go.”
His hold on her tightened. He picked her up, spun around, and carried her to the road.
She kicked her legs and struggled to free herself. “You know something!”
She tried to twist and look her superior in the eye. Why hadn’t she bothered to put on a radio? She’d know everything by now if she’d heard the update on what they’d found inside.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” He set her on her feet. He didn’t have to say the words, because she heard it in his voice.
“No!” Her knees buckled and she crumpled to the ground. “It’s not her!”
The tears she’d been fighting since the call had come in flowed down her face as her heart shattered in her chest.
“I’m sorry, Sam. There’s a body in the house.”
“Your Honor, we request a continuance.” The prosecutor leaned his fists on the table in front of him, sweat on his hairline and the back of his suit collar.
Deep into their third hearing of the day, the judge looked as tired as Liam felt.
Liam adjusted his tie. It had been a long time since he’d had to wear one on a regular basis, and this was going to take some getting used to. But at least he wasn’t in the hot seat.
The defense attorney jumped to her feet, glaring at the prosecutor. “On what grounds?”
“The witness has failed to show up as he promised.” The prosecutor pushed his glasses up his nose. “I assure you we’re looking for Dr. Torres, Your Honor.”
Liam’s head whipped around to glance between Judge Mullinax and the prosecutor. Torres? The guy whose file Howard had. Samantha’s landlord. That couldn’t be a coincidence, right?
Where was the guy?
“Wasn’t he under the protection of the US Marshals?” The judge leaned forward, glancing at Liam as if he should’ve told his boss to hand over the file regardless.
“He was supposed to enter WITSEC today after providing his testimony. Every effort is being made to locate him.”
“We object.” The defense attorney addressed the judge. “A delay in proceedings violates my client’s right to a speedy trial.”
“In the interest of both justice and maintaining the defendant’s rights, I’ll grant a continuance. You have three days to produce your witness.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” the prosecutor said.
Liam didn’t want to be in the assigned marshal’s shoes. The internal investigation would be a nightmare if something more than a flat tire or cold feet had happened to the witness.
“I want an update,” Judge Mullinax addressed the prosecutor.
The door to the secure entrance opened, and Hank slipped in and crossed to Liam. “You’re needed upstairs. There’s an issue with one of your witnesses.”
One of his witnesses? Liam nodded and exited the way Hank entered. He followed the secure hallway to the Marshals’ office.
Supervisor Howard was waiting for him when he entered. “Roberts, Renegade PD called, and the Williamses’ house is fully engulfed in flames. You need to get there now.”
“I’m on my way.” He turned around and took the security elevators to his vehicle.
He responded Code Three, lights and sirens, to ensure he made it to the house quickly.
There was no telling what had caused the fire, but this wasn’t just a house.
Not to Sam. Not to Bella. Not to him. If something happened to Bella…
Sophia would fall apart. And honestly? He might too.
He’d never had a witness die, and didn’t want to be the first marshal with that distinction.
His phone rang. Private Caller. He clicked the button on the steering wheel. “Roberts.”
“Uncle Liam?” Sophia’s voice was barely audible over the sirens.
“Sophia?” He turned the volume up. Why wasn’t she calling him from her cell phone? He’d taken the phone privilege from her but had left it at the house for emergencies.
“Can you come pick us up?”