Fire Escape - Book Three: Troubled Heroes Series (An Action Thriller) (24 page)

             
Michael immediately looked away. It was an article about the progress of the case with a picture of him right in the middle of it. "Just remember that the newspaper isn't always right."

             
"Coming from a man who reads it religiously on a daily basis." He looked out onto the street as if he were trying to prolong whatever it was he needed to say. "McGinnis, listen... We're getting pressure left and right. A FDNY firefighter accused of something like this. As you know, the press is having a field day with it. We've had reporters practically busting down the garage door wanting to talk to us. The decision from headquarters is to suspend you."

             
Michael expected this. The only problem was actually hearing it. It hurt. It hurt worse than getting beat up by two men in a jail cell. This was his career. This was his life. What would his father think of him? What did his brothers think of him?

             
"For how long?"

             
"Until you go to court. Until we hear something. Listen, Michael, this wasn't my decision. It's just that if we leave you on the truck, we're gonna continue to hear it. This isn't blowing over like we thought it would."

             
Nodding, Michael finished off his coffee. "You don't have to explain yourself, Captain. With everything happening, I think it's best I stay away from certain people anyway."

             
"What do you mean?"

             
One piece of information the newspaper had left out was the fact that Gregg  Walsh was the one who pointed him out to the police. It was a good thing. It gave Michael some room to work. It made Gregg think he got off easily, which meant the more relaxed he became, the more likely he'd make a mistake that could work in his favor.

             
"You'll find out soon enough." Standing up, Michael pushed his chair in. "Thanks for the coffee."

             
He turned to walk down the street and heard Captain Rooker yell out, "We'll be in touch, McGinnis!"

             
Raising his hand up to acknowledge him, Michael set his sights on his next course of action. He and Casey had to devise something. What that would be, he wasn't sure.

             
With no real plan and several messages from his brother on his phone, Michael went back to his mom's house. He thought about getting a newspaper, but what was the use? The story was all over the place and reading the article would just piss him off.

             
On the subway, he couldn't decipher if he was just being paranoid or if people were starting to recognize him from the news. He usually kept his head low and didn't pay much attention to the people around him. Now he noticed more and more people making eye contact with him, their expressions leery. He had to be reading into it. Not everyone read the newspaper. Not everyone watched the news. Maybe they were noticing his black eye. Yeah, that was it. They were all probably just shocked at how he looked. And maybe his FDNY hoodie and hat drew attention too. That seemed to be something people noticed.

             
The subway edged to a stop where he needed to get off and he quickened his pace, pushing past people in a desperate attempt to get out and away from everyone. Casey was out on the porch again when he arrived, smoking another cigarette. He must've read Michael's mind, because he shrugged his shoulders.

             
"Ma doesn't want me smoking in the house. I'm trying to quit, but I can only do things one step at a time, and what I gave up is more important than this." He flicked some ashes and watched them sink to the ground.

             
"I'm not saying a word, Casey. Do what you gotta do, I guess."

             
"So how'd it go with your boss?"

             
Michael leaned against the door. "About like you'd imagine."

             
"Fired?"             

             
"No, thank God. Just suspended for now. Where's Ma?"

             
"Not sure. She left not long after you did and said she had some errands."

             
Michael took his baseball cap off and ran his finger over the embroidered lettering. FDNY, spelled out in red. On the back, his last name and ladder company were in white. He couldn't imagine a life without the department. The suspension alone was a blow to his pride.

             
"She's pretty upset, huh?" Michael asked, unable to look up at Casey.

             
"I'm not sure how to describe it. She's worried. She hates to see us in trouble, yet we're so damn good at letting it happen." Casey stood up and patted Michael on the shoulder. "I don't know much about this Gregg Walsh guy you speak of. Tell me more about him."

             
Michael opened the front door. "Let's put some coffee on. It's gonna be a long afternoon."

***

              Eva was lost. The night without Michael was cold, depressing, and sleepless. Walking into the kitchen, she closed her eyes and imagined him standing at the stove, frying up bacon with a huge pot of coffee ready to go. Instead, the room was vacant. Feeling sick to her stomach, she ran her hands over her stomach and sighed. It seemed like she had gained twenty pounds in the last few days. Her usually flat stomach was becoming more round and her sweat pants were stretched as far as they could go.

             
She hated the silence. The traffic on the street below was louder than usual. She couldn't stay there. There were so many reminders of him. His dirty clothes were piled in a corner in the bedroom, right beside the hamper. It was a constant battle to get him to clean it up. The bathroom smelled of his cologne.

             
Would it be okay to call him and tell him to come home? Would he even want to? She felt so guilty for kicking him to the curb. A part of her couldn't blame him if he told her to go to hell.

             
Her phone rang across the apartment and she saw it was her father calling. Her nauseated feeling heightened at the sight of his name on the screen and she hesitated to answer it.

             
"Hello?"

             
"Eva, what in the hell is going on? I haven't heard from you since you came to visit and now I'm reading about your boyfriend in the newspaper. At least I think it's him. I'm not real good with names, but the picture is very familiar!"

             
The newspaper? Damn it, she didn't even take into consideration how the media spread news like wildfire. Without Mikey being there, she didn't have one to look over.

             
"I'm sorry, dad. Things have been crazy here. A lot has happened."

             
"You got that right! We need to meet for breakfast. I'm in the city right now. How about that cafe on the corner near your apartment?"

             
Eva's gut instinct was to tell him no, but if she didn't do this he'd be bugging her forever. "Let me get a shower. I'll meet  you down there in about an hour." She glanced at herself in the mirror. She wasn't huge by any means, but she was definitely starting to show. She was nearing the three month mark and could only wonder how huge she'd be toward the end if she was already showing this much. Her dad wasn't stupid. There was no way she could play it off as weight gain. It was time to give him the whole truth about the pregnancy and about the awful situation Mikey was in.

             
Rushing through getting ready, she skipped putting any makeup on and threw on one of Mikey's t-shirts. It didn't fit her as baggy as they used to, but at least it wasn't form fitting like most of her clothing. She pulled her hair back and took one last long look in the mirror. She looked horrible. After everything that had happened, she felt embarrassed to think she'd look like a beauty queen.

             
Her father was already waiting at an outside table when she arrived. He looked annoyed and motioned for her to sit down across from him.

             
"You okay, Eva?"

             
She grabbed a menu and tried to find something that didn't make her stomach do summersaults. That would be impossible. "I'm fine, why?"

             
"You just don't look like yourself."

             
Glancing up, she felt the glare creep on her face. "I haven't been myself. Thanks for kindly saying I look like crap."

             
He shook his head. "Just tell me what's going on. I promise I won't freak out."

             
"I'm not so sure." She closed the menu. "Well, what would you like to know about first?" Without giving him a chance to answer, she continued. "First things first. I'm almost three months pregnant. We were waiting to tell people until I got into my second trimester, but if you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans."

             
Her father's eyes widened and careened down to her stomach, or what could be seen of it from his vantage point. He didn't say anything right off, but he didn't have to. She could tell that he was in shock.

             
"The firefighter is the father?" He asked.

             
"Yes, Michael is the father. Which brings me to the next bombshell I have for you. I haven't read the article in the paper or watched the news stories so I can't tell you if what they are saying is true, but what I do know is he is being blamed for them. He was arrested and had to post bail to get out. I'm new to all of this court cop stuff, but from what I understand, now we wait." She made it a point to leave out the part about her kicking him out. That was enough news to take in for one day.

             
He leaned back in his chair. "Did he do it?"

             
The question caught Eva off guard. "No."

             
"The cops must've found something to have enough to make an arrest."

             
"Daddy, I know Mikey better than anyone. It's a massive misunderstanding that I hope gets cleared up soon." Her words hit hard. She never would admit it, but she had her own doubts about his innocence. He didn't have a violent bone in his body. There was no way.

             
"I'm asking you to be careful, Eva. This isn't just something that's gonna go away. And now you're carrying his kid." He pointed toward her stomach. "There is so much involved now, including another life." Slamming his hand on the table, he clenched his jaw. "Why did you sleep with him? You're not married."

             
Here it came. The lecturing. If he continued, she would get up and leave. She didn't have the patience to sit and listen to it. "We're not in the fifties anymore, dad. I love him and he loves me."

             
"Generally you're supposed to get pregnant after you get married."

             
"Thanks for the support. My fiancé is in a load of trouble and all you can do is sit here and look down your nose at us. Yeah, we got pregnant before we got married. We didn't intend to get pregnant. But here we are, here I am, and there's a baby on the way." She stood up and pushed her chair in. "I can't focus on getting your approval right now. I've gotta focus on saving Michael's life." Turning to walk away, she heard her dad call back, but she ignored him and fought back the tears. Their visit went just as she had imagined. She had to push it aside. He'd come around on his own. Proving Mikey's innocence wouldn't.

***

              Casey stayed back about a quarter of a block. Gregg Walsh wasn't an easy man to keep up with. Just from what Mikey had told him about the man, he would've disliked him regardless of what was happening. He seemed so full of himself and so cocky. Maybe his judgment was clouded by everything, but it didn't matter. He had to catch this guy.

             
Casey began following him around six, right after his tour had ended. From there, he hadn't done much. He had stopped off at a bodega and grabbed something to eat, and from there had sort of meandered down several streets, in no real hurry to get anywhere.

             
Had he caught on to Casey following him? That was impossible. There was heavy pedestrian traffic and he had made sure to keep a safe enough distance to not be obvious. Where the hell was he going and why wasn't he going home?

             
"What are you up to?" Casey asked, dodging a woman's cautious glance at him as if he were talking to her. Ignoring her, he walked to the corner. Gregg was moving fast, getting about a half of a block ahead of him. Weaving through people, Casey ignored the backhanded comments and frustration of those he had just bothered.

             
Maybe he should just stop for the evening. The first step in the small plan they were able to think up was to get a feel of Gregg's routine. If he threw the hat in now, the whole day would be shot, and Mikey didn't have time on his side.

             
After another few blocks, Gregg had gone inside of an apartment building. Casey studied his notes. This was the address Mikey had given him of where he lived. Damn. Was he in for the night? He shot his brother a quick text message informing him that Gregg had gone home and if he should stay. Seconds later, Mikey replied, telling him to hold tight a bit longer.

             
Doing as he was told, he sat on a bench down the street, keeping a good view on the front doors to the complex. Did the place have any other exits? He didn't know and wished he would've mapped out the building a little better. He felt so dirty. He was stalking a man he didn't know. He had to tell himself it was for the good of his family and protecting his brother. It wasn't like he was following a woman with intentions to harm her. No, this was to prevent harm to Mikey. He had to keep that perspective to influence himself to hold strong.

             
A few minutes later, Gregg came out of the front doors. He had on a heavier sweater that seemed to attract less attention than the FDNY stuff he had on before. He didn't walk with as much arrogance and in his left hand he held some kind of container. Keeping up the pace, Casey continued to follow, his palms growing sweaty and his pulse racing quicker with each step.

             
This time, Gregg seemed a lot more cautious. He continuously looked around him as if he were checking his surroundings. He was definitely up to something, but normal people around him would've never caught on. Casey only knew it because he was watching him like a hawk.

             
He crossed the street and sped up. If he were to go any faster, he would've been jogging. Casey kept about the same distance between them, noticing a gas station coming up on the left. Holy shit. Was that a gas can? It didn't really look like one, but maybe he had modified it to not be so obvious. He stopped at one of the pumps, pulled his hood closer to his head, and began pumping into the container. Casey watched, still feeling as if he had enough space between them. There weren't as many people around, but Gregg didn't seem to notice.

             
After finishing, he took his receipt from the pump and put it in his pocket. Damn it. If he would've left it, Casey could've snatched it up as some form of evidence, but really, it would've never stood up in court. People buy gas every day. But why would he need it in a gas can? In Texas it was common for people to do it when purchasing it for their lawn mowers and farm equipment, but in New York City? In the fall? It was a bit harder to explain. It didn't matter. No one paid much attention. He was just another man buying gas and moving on. Casey would've been guilty of not giving it a second thought had he not known the story.

             
He clicked a quick picture of Gregg with his phone. It wouldn't be enough to prove Mikey's case, but he would take anything he could get. Maybe the little stuff would pile up to be enough. He continued to follow him, but the sense of urgency in finding something on him was gone. He let him get farther ahead. He was going back the same way he had come, and Casey assumed he was headed back to his apartment.

             
The gas can meant one thing. He was planning another burn. How were they going to stop him? They couldn't stay camped on the sidewalk outside his building forever. Could they warn the police? Probably wasn't likely. With Casey's criminal record they would realize who he was and take anything he said with a grain of salt.

             
He wasn't sure what to do, so he dialed Mikey. "Man, I caught him filling up a gas can."

             
"You're shitting me."

             
"No. I took a picture of him, but I'm not sure if it's real clear. Can't really tell what he's doing."

             
"Are you still following him?"

             
"Yeah. He's headed back to his apartment. What do you want me to do? Him getting more gas isn't good, Mikey."

             
"No, it's not. Just come back. We need to get somewhere where we have a strong alibi in case he sets another fire tonight. Ma wouldn't be good enough."

             
"Who else would be?"

             
"Damn it, I don't know. Just come home."

             
Casey ended the call and slid his phone into his pocket. Looking up, Gregg stood at the entrance to the alley, a sly smile on his face.

             
"You need something?" He asked, stepping toward Casey.

             
"Do I know you?" Casey tried to play it cool. In the split second it took to call Mikey, he had stopped paying attention. It was long enough for Gregg to catch on. Now he was stuck.

             
"I sure as hell hope you do. You've been following me for the past hour."

             
Casey backed up a few steps, but Gregg was quick and stayed with him. "You look like someone I know," Gregg said, cocking his head to the side. "So tell me, how do you know me?"