Going for Four: Counting on Love, Book 4 (14 page)

Gabby whirled to face him before Ryan could reply. “He’s still in there.”

He’d known it. Cody worked to control his reaction. He had to handle this. Conner was a professional too. He had to trust Conner to do the right thing.

“What happened?”

“We went in after the firefighter. He was out cold, so we had to assess him and stabilize his neck before we carried him to the door, but as soon as Ryan and Sierra took him, I turned back and Conner was gone,” Gabby said. She looked pissed. “If you don’t go in after him, I will.”

“Calm down,” Cody said with a frown. The last thing he needed was two paramedics inside the burning building his crew was working to save.

“He radioed that he’d heard someone cry for help and that he was going back in,” Sierra, the fourth member of Conner’s crew, said. Her face was tight with worry. “But when I replied and asked for more detail, he wasn’t there. He isn’t answering.”

Cody took a deep breath and forced himself to relax his shoulders. Conner’s crew needed him to be in control right now. His own crew needed him to take charge.

But he was going to kick Conner’s ass as soon as he pulled it out of the fire.

Two of his men approached, dragging their helmets off, their faces coated with soot. “We located Dixon.”

“And why the fuck isn’t he with you?” Cody’s gut cramped. He knew why. Not exactly, of course, but he knew it meant that they couldn’t get to him for some reason. His guys would never leave someone inside.

“He fell. A chunk of ceiling fell, dropping a chandelier straight through the floor. He went through with it.”

Cody’s entire body went cold. He heard Ryan’s muttered “fuck” and Sierra’s gasp. But he couldn’t worry about them right now. He couldn’t worry about anyone but Conner.

“I need equipment!” he shouted to the crew at the truck.

“There’s a lot of smoke. The stairwell is six paces to your left when you step through the door,” Gabby began as someone came running with what he needed and he started pulling on pants, boots, jacket and helmet.

He appreciated the information. Once he was inside, he wouldn’t be able to see.

When she didn’t go on, Cody looked up. She had her arms crossed tightly and her lips pressed together.

“Then what?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, still looking pissed but with worry at the edges. “I don’t know where he went from there.”

Right. Dammit.

“Okay.” He turned to the firefighters who’d told him about Conner’s fall. “Where do I go from the staircase?”

“You can’t go in there,” one of them protested. “You can’t see a fucking thing and a lot of the floor gave way. You’ll go right in too.”

“Then I’m gonna need a harness,” Cody said. He
was
going in there. But he had to use his head. Plunging into a smoke-filled building with a hole in the floor was a dumb-ass move. “Where’d he go down?”

“Keep on past the staircase. Probably one hundred feet,” one said.

“Did you see Dixon fall?”

“He was behind us, the chandelier came down, the floor gave, then he wasn’t behind us,” the firefighter said. “We kind of assumed.”

They didn’t know if Conner was conscious, hurt or worse. Dammit.

Someone brought a harness and rope. “You’re going to have to lower me down,” he told his men. “Everyone we can spare. As far as we know, Dixon is the only person still inside. We need to get him out.”

His crew got into position, ready to hold the rope and lower Cody into the hole to Conner. But the man at the front of the line was Ryan Kaye.

“You need to keep trying to get Conner on the radio,” Cody told Ryan.

“Screw that,” Ryan said, clamping the gigantic metal hook onto Cody’s harness. “I’ll let you be the big shot since you’re chief, but you don’t get all the hero glory.”

Cody knew very well that Ryan didn’t do any of the things he did for the glory. None of them did. He was as worried about Conner as Cody was.

“Fine. I can’t think of someone I’d rather have at my back,” he told the paramedic.

“Let’s go fish Dixon out of there,” Ryan said, nudging Cody forward.

They approached the building carefully.

“Keep trying to get Conner on the radio,” he told Sierra. “At least I’ll be able to hear you talking on his radio as I get close.” He turned to his men. “I’m going in. Alone to start. But stay ready.”

Tom was out here running things, so Cody could afford to go in. And he had to. Not because it was Conner—he’d go in after anyone left behind and he wouldn’t ask his men to do it. But it
was
Conner.

He strode to the door and shined the heavy-duty flashlight into the smoky entryway. Thank God it was daylight. That always helped.

He stepped through that door carefully. The fire was supposedly focused on the other side of the building from this stairwell, but something was burning overhead to cause that fixture to drop. He didn’t want to go through the floor himself, and he sure as hell didn’t want to get clocked in the head by something falling.

“Conner!” he hollered once he was through the door and in a hallway. “Dixon!” he bellowed again, turning left as Gabby had instructed. No answer.

He reached the stairwell and peered into the smoke. He could make out the edge of what was, obviously, a hole in the floor.

“Conner!” He kept yelling but he moved carefully forward. He hadn’t looked at the blueprint of the building, which was stupid and something he never did. But getting in here had been his only concern.

Dammit.

He grabbed his radio. “Somebody give me a general idea of what I’m doing here,” he said. “I’m heading east down a long hallway. Two doors opening off to the north.”

“Those are going to be storage. The lofts are above you to the north,” the voice crackled back. “We cleared them. The hallway chandelier came down just beyond that second door.”

“How are we doing on the flames, boys?” Cody asked.

The second loft would share a wall with the loft where they were still battling the fire.

“We’re on it, boss,” the voice—he thought it belonged to Trevor Wilson—said. “But we’ve got a ways to go.”

Terrific. He approached the edge of the hole in the floor. He jerked on the harness that wrapped around his chest. If the floor suddenly gave, the harness—and the men outside—would keep him from falling to his death. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t swing into something that would hurt. And it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t freak him the fuck out.

“Dixon!”

He didn’t hear anything at first. He stepped to the edge of the hole, listening, scanning,
feeling
. He was sure it sounded ridiculous, but he trusted his gut in these scenarios. If something felt wrong, it was.

But this didn’t feel wrong. It felt like he wanted to not be underneath a ceiling that was potentially falling, but…

“Cody.”

The voice was weak, but it was there.

Cody felt his heart thud. “You gotta help me out here, man,” he called out, leaning in and trying to scan the depth of the hole with the flashlight. Conner had clearly fallen into the basement. “What’s going on down there?”

“Boring as hell actually. I just woke up.”

Cody’s heart squeezed. So he’d been unconscious. Okay. At least now he was joking. That was a good sign. “Can you see my light?"

“Yeah.”

“Is it hitting you at all?” Cody couldn’t see a damned thing in there.

“Yeah, my boot.”

“You hurt?”

“Uh, I think so.”

Cody frowned. “You’re not sure?”

“I’m kind of…under some stuff.”

Fantastic. “What kind of stuff?”

“I can’t tell. It’s dark. But whatever it is weighs a ton. I can’t move it. And my head’s killing me.”

Cody radioed back to the men outside on the other end of the rope. He felt them increase the tension and he eased himself to the floor, then to the edge of the hole. “I’m coming down,” he told Conner.

“I sure as hell hope so.”

Cody turned and let himself down through the floorboards with his arms, like getting into a swimming pool—though there was no water buoyancy to help him now. Damn, he didn’t like this.

Finally, he had to let go and trust the harness and his crew to keep him in the air.

They eased him in slowly. He twirled at the end of the rope, but the descent was gradual and he finally felt his feet touch something solid.

There was significantly less smoke down here, and his high-powered beam lit the area nicely.

It was most definitely a basement. The walls were brick, the floor was brick, and it was packed with stuff. Shelves lined two walls, stuffed full of boxes and books and odds and ends. There were also huge canvases he assumed belonged to the art gallery, as well as glass cases, chairs, tables, mannequins, crates and boxes, old furniture and even a refrigerator.

“I don’t suppose you found an old stash of moonshine while you’ve been hanging out down here?” Cody asked, locating Conner easily now that he was on the same floor. He was about twenty feet away, on his back, covered in dust, a huge, solid-looking piece of wood across his legs.

“Been a little busy, actually,” Conner said.

Cody could see he was gritting his teeth. Cody began picking his way over the debris littering the floor.

“Busy, huh? Making your Christmas list?”

“Coming up with various horror-movie scenarios for this basement. And that was before I saw the mannequins. Glad I didn’t have any light down here.”

Cody chuckled. Conner sounded pretty fine to him.

“You know what day it is?” Cody asked him. He had to determine if he was dealing with a bump on the head or a concussion or a more serious head injury.

“Saturday.”

“Where are you?”

“Under a pile of rubble.” Conner even chuckled at that.

Cody moved around the remnants of the chandelier. Damn, what a mess.

“Your ears ringing?” Cody asked Conner.

“Yep. And I’m sick to my stomach.”

Conner knew the questions Cody was going to ask and why.

“You feel dizzy?”

“Probably. I can’t get up to tell,” Conner said.

“You can’t get up because stuff’s on top of you or because you’re hurt?”

“Both. I don’t know how hurt,” Conner said.

“Can you move any of that crap off of you?” Cody got to him as Conner tried to shift whatever way lying across his lap.

Cody could see one of Conner’s legs, but not the other.

Plaster and wood moved as Conner pushed, but something heavier was on him. In the dim light, Cody couldn’t tell what it was.

“What’s your pain like in your head?” he asked.

“Ten out of ten. Hey, fuck!” Conner jerked back when Cody shined the flashlight in his eyes. His pupils were dilated.

“When are your sisters’ birthdays?” Cody reached out and felt the object pinning Conner’s legs down. It didn’t feel like a ceiling beam or a piece of the ceiling. What the hell?

He looked up to find Conner apparently concentrating to answer his question. He couldn’t do it. Cody could tell.

Conner had a headache, nausea, dizziness, and ringing in the ears, and he couldn’t concentrate. He had a concussion, if not something more serious.

“Did this thing hit you in the head?” He reached for Conner’s head and found a huge knot on the back.

“Guess so.” The words weren’t exactly slurred but neither were they clear and articulate.

Cody shoved at the wooden beam. It was heavy. “Where the hell did this come from?”

Conner lifted his head, looking down at his legs as Cody shone his light on it. “No way.” He started laughing. “It’s a totem pole.”

Cody blinked. “What?”

“It’s a totem pole.” Conner repeated, still chuckling. “Stupid fucking thing. It’s decorative. I assume. I don’t know if it came down with me or if it was down here and fell over on me.”

That sounded more slurred. Dammit.

He crouched next to Conner and radioed out. “I’ve got him. I’m gonna need some help getting him out, guys. He’s under a heavy wood pole. Bring a saw.” He went on to direct them to the hole, the distance down and what to expect when they got into the basement.

“Roger that, boss.”

“They’re gonna send some tools,” he told Conner. “Keep talking to me. We need to keep you awake and focused.”

He’d been tuning the crackling sounds out, but they were hard to ignore a moment later when another large portion of the ceiling from the floor above dropped. Cody lurched to the side, the chunk of ceiling narrowly missing him.

“Dammit.” He peered up through the hole.

“You know what I was thinking?” Conner asked him, sounding a little sleepy. Or drunk.

“What’s that?” Cody put both his feet against the totem pole and tried shifting it, but when it did move, Conner swore in pain. Well, shit.

After he’d quit cursing, Conner said, “I was thinking that I could die happy. All my sisters are taken care of. Ryan and Shane and Nate would take care of their girls and you’d take care of Liv. So it wouldn’t matter if I died down here.”