With a Vengeance (8 page)

“Zoe? It’s Wayne Baronick.”

She heaved the door open and almost didn’t recognize him. The detective wore a plastic weatherproof hooded slicker, covering his usual all-business dress suit.

“Mind if I come in and ask the chief some questions?”

Zoe slid down the jump bench to make room. “Watch your—”

Too late. He slammed his head as he climbed in. “Damn it,” he said, wincing.

“Don’t knock yourself out. I’m busy with the one patient I already have.”

Wayne flipped his hood back and rubbed his scalp. “The depth of your compassion is astounding.”

She clipped a blood oxygen sensor on Yancy’s finger. “Have you seen Earl out there?”

“They’re still working on the young fireman.”

Yancy pulled the non-rebreather mask from his face, perching it on his chin. “How’s Jason?”

“Jason? Oh. The kid.” Wayne glanced at her askance, his eyes telling her it wasn’t good. “They wanted to bring in Life Flight, but the helicopter’s grounded because of the weather.”

“That’s not an answer,” Yancy said.

Zoe replaced the mask over his mouth and nose. “This doesn’t do any good unless you wear it right.”

He glared at her. “You gonna get me something for this pain or do I have to get it myself?”

“I’m calling the hospital next. You know the protocol. On a scale of one to ten—”

“Twenty-five,” Yancy snapped.

She looked at Wayne. “He’s all yours, Detective.”

“Thanks a bunch.”

Zoe moved to the seat at the front of the patient compartment, allowing Wayne to slide into her vacated spot on the bench. She picked up the phone and punched in the Brunswick Hospital’s emergency department’s frequency, keeping one ear on the conversation between the two men.

“Did you see anyone when you first pulled up?” Wayne asked Yancy.

“Didn’t see anyone at all, other than my guys. The son of a bitch never showed his face.”

“Can you give me an idea of where the shots came from?”

The doctor came on the line, drawing Zoe’s attention back to the task at hand. She relayed her patient’s vitals and condition and was granted permission to administer a dose of morphine sulfate, repeating every five minutes as needed.

“What’s your ETA, Medic Eight?” the doctor asked.

“ETA thirty minutes.”

Provided Earl showed up to drive.

She hung up and pulled out the key to the locked drug compartment. “I hate to interrupt, but I need to get Yancy started on some pain meds.”

“About gawddamned time,” Yancy muttered.

The detective pocketed his cell phone. “I’ll talk to you some more at the hospital,” he told the fire chief.

“I doubt I can tell you anything else. Like I said, I didn’t see much.”

Zoe caught Wayne’s arm as he moved toward the rig’s back door. “I also need to get to the hospital. Could you go find my partner?”

Before the detective could respond, someone else pounded. Wayne opened the door to another firefighter. Instead of turnout gear, he wore a dark coat with wide fluorescent bands, and he appeared on the verge of tears.

“Earl told me to drive this ambulance to the hospital,” the firefighter said to Zoe. “They needed an extra man to…” He shot a glance at his chief. “To work on Jason.” He again met Zoe’s eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

If she hadn’t already been sitting, her knees would have given way. They needed Earl because they were using heroic measures to keep the young man alive.

Nine

For the second time in as many days, Pete found himself racing back to Vance Township to deal with a shooting. His headlamps and red and blue emergency lights carved through the veil of rain. The winds ripped a crop of early-turning leaves from the tree branches, scattering them across the dark, glossy pavement.

Roadblocks had been set up, same as the previous night. However, unlike last night, the weather would prevent the state police helicopter from searching, and the rain would offer a challenge to the K-9s. Pete wondered if this elusive shooter had intentionally used the inclement forecast to his advantage.

One other difference between tonight and last…Zoe wasn’t in the passenger seat beside Pete. He knew who the victims were from the phone conversations he’d had with his men. He knew Zoe was unharmed. But damn it, some maniac was going after first responders. Paramedics. Firefighters. They may not have been part of the brotherhood of law enforcement, but they were definitely close cousins.

And Zoe was closer yet.

The narrow country road approaching the Loomis farm was clogged with police and fire vehicles. By the time Pete made it into the driveway, the old barn had succumbed to the flames. Fire crews continued to pour water onto the still-burning debris.

He eased off the lane, making room for an exiting tanker headed for the nearest hydrant. Or farm pond.

Figuring he wasn’t about to find a parking spot any closer to the action, he turned off the ignition, pulled on a slicker, and stepped out of the Explorer.

Pete located Baronick standing outside the Mobile Command Center being briefed by a pair of county officers and a state trooper. They acknowledged Pete before excusing themselves. Baronick motioned for Pete to follow and led the way to the big truck’s door.

Once inside, the detective swept his hood back. Water splattered everywhere, earning him a dirty look from the computer techs. “Sorry, guys,” Baronick said.

“What have we got?” Pete asked.

“Not very much. Just like last night, he pulled a hit and run. Two men down.” Baronick held up one finger. “But unlike last night, he left a pair of uninjured witnesses. There were four firefighters manning the first truck on scene. The first two off the truck were gunned down. The other two stayed inside and radioed EOC for police backup.”

“Did either of them see anything?”

“They were able to give us an idea of where the shots came from. Not exact because it happened fast.
Bam bam
and outta here.”

“That’s it? They didn’t see our guy?”

“Nope. They said the shots came from the tree line about two-hundred yards away. I have men over there searching along with the K-9 unit, but with this rain…”

Pete shook his head. “Last night, he used a stolen ATV as bait and the setting sun to his back to conceal himself. Tonight, he sets a barn fire on a night when evidence is going to be obliterated before we can find it. Is he that lucky or that smart?”

Baronick raised an eyebrow. “I had an instructor in the academy who taught me there are no such things as coincidences. And in my mind, luck constitutes a coincidence.”

“Must have been a good instructor.”

“He was all right.” Baronick gave a hint of a grin. “Some guy named Adams.”

“Smartass.” Pete dug out his notebook, trying not to drip on it. “Looks like we’re back to square one where suspects are concerned. Even if Snake had a motive to go after firemen, he has the IQ of a wood duck. No way he’d think to plan a hit around the weather forecast.”

“Rules out the girl too.” Baronick’s phone rang. He turned away to answer it, plugging his other ear with a finger.

Who the hell was doing this? Pete dug out his own phone, hesitated, then punched in Zoe’s number.

The Emergency Department of Brunswick Hospital was jumping. As if two shooting victims from Vance Township weren’t enough, one of the nurses told Zoe there had been a multi-vehicle accident on the eastern side of the county with five patients either already arrived or in transit.

After transferring Yancy to a cubicle where a nurse and an aide had taken charge of his care, Zoe found a quiet spot in the hall, parked her empty gurney, and stripped the soiled linens from it. As she tossed them into a nearby bin, her cell phone burst into its rendition of “I Fought the Law and the Law Won.” Her pulse quickened.

“Hey, Pete,” she answered.

“How’s Yancy?”

She glanced toward the cubicle where she’d left the fire chief. “Bullet went through his right arm. Shattered his humerus and he lost a lot of blood. Not life-threatening, but I don’t know about nerve damage.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Pete was probably wondering the same thing she was. How would big rough and tough Bruce Yancy handle losing the use of his arm? After a moment, Pete asked, “What about the other fireman?”

“I haven’t heard.” Earl and the others from Medic Three had pulled in a few minutes after she had, but considering she still hadn’t seen any of them, she knew it was bad. Real bad. Most of the time when they arrived at the ER with a patient, the hospital’s staff took over, and the paramedics changed sheets on their gurney, restocked their supplies, and got back in service. Only when it was dire did the doctors enlist their help. “Please tell me you’ve caught the guy.”

A sigh came through the line. “I wish I could. Are
you
all right?”

The truth or a lie? The truth being
hell no
. But that would lead to choking tears, and this was not the time or place. “I’m hanging in there. Pete…what’s going on? Who’s shooting at us?”

“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it? We have every law enforcement officer in three counties looking for him.”

But would they find him before or after anyone else died? She knew better than to ask the question, though. Movement at the end of the hallway drew her attention. The three paramedics stepped out of the cubicle where they’d been working on the young firefighter. “Hang on a second,” she told Pete. “Here comes Earl.” She lowered the phone and waited.

Her partner spotted her and shuffled toward her, shoulders sagging, hands stuffed in his pockets. She knew without asking.

Earl met her gaze, his eyes damp. He shook his head.

Zoe took a raspy breath. Blew it out. And again lifted the phone to her ear.

“Pete? Jason didn’t make it.”

“You look like shit.” Sylvia had never been one to pull punches.

But at least she thrust a cup of coffee into Pete’s hands as he dragged into the station after a second long night at a shooting scene. He inhaled the aroma and sipped. “You, on the other hand, are beautiful.”

She blew a raspberry and then grew serious. “You find anything?”

He shuffled down the hallway to his office, Sylvia trailing behind. “They pinpointed where the shots came from. Mostly we were trying to cover the area with tarps to protect what we could from the rain. Now that it’s stopped and the sun’s coming up, they’re starting to do a more thorough search.” He sagged into his chair. “Thanks for manning the station all night.”

A sad smile crossed her face. “It almost felt like old times.” The smile faded. “I can’t believe Jason Dyer’s gone. He was such a sweet kid. Ted was the one who got him interested in firefighting, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know.” Sylvia’s son, Ted Bassi, had been a pillar of the Vance Township VFD prior to his tragic death last winter. “So you knew Jason?”

She took a seat opposite Pete. “He spent a lot of time at Ted and Rose’s house. He and Logan were great pals. Have you talked to Jason’s folks yet?”

“Last night.” Death notifications. One of the worst parts of his job—telling a parent his child won’t be coming home again. “They didn’t take it well.”

Sylvia stared into space, her eyes glazed. Pete had given her the same news less than a year ago.

He knew full well she was reliving that moment right now. “You should stop in and talk to them.”

“I intend to. As soon as Nancy gets here.” Sylvia checked her watch. “Which should be any time now.”

He sipped his coffee and shook his head. “It’s Saturday. She’s off today. So am I, for that matter.”

“Do you need me to stay?”

“Always.” He gave her a weary smile. “But no. We’ll manage. The Dyer kid’s mother needs you more than I do right now.”

“You have my number if—”

Pete waved her off. “We’ll be fine. Any word on Yancy?”

“Not since last night. They were prepping him for surgery. Have
you
heard anything?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t suppose he’ll make it to the poker game tonight.” Sylvia managed a somber smile. “Pity. I always earn my week’s lunch allowance from him on Saturday nights.”

Pete rubbed his tired eyes. “I think the weekly poker game might be cancelled just this once. Half the gang will be on duty. Or, if we nail this guy, catching up on sleep.” He hoped they wouldn’t be dealing with a third night of shootings.

Sylvia fixed him with a stern gaze. “Have you talked to Zoe?”

The question carried a truckload of innuendo, but Pete wasn’t about to delve into the subject of their relationship.

Not now.

“Last night. She’s the one who told me the kid didn’t pull through.” Pete didn’t mention how many times he’d looked at his phone during the long night, nearly placing a call just to check on her. Make sure she was okay. Just to hear her voice…

He may not have spoken his thoughts, but somehow he suspected Sylvia read them. “Uh-huh. When are you two knuckleheads gonna quit this dance of yours and get together?”

“We
are
together.”

Sylvia raised a very doubtful eyebrow.

“We’re seeing each other.” Sort of. “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I? I didn’t take that job in Hawaii.”

“Yeah, well.
Being here
isn’t all there is to a relationship.”

Pete traced the rim of his mug with one finger. “It’s a good start. Even though I turned down that gig last month, Chuck keeps calling with other private security job openings. I can’t seem to get it through to him that I like my life here.”

The bells on the front door jangled, and Sylvia climbed to her feet with a groan. “I’ll see who that is. Then I’m heading home. Provided I can fight off the growing media encampment in the parking lot.”

“Tell them I’ll give them a statement at noon.”

“A statement? Telling them what exactly?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Sylvia snorted. “Right. Keep me posted.”

“About the case or about my job situation?”

She shot a dirty look at him. “You aren’t going anywhere unless you take Zoe with you.”

“There’s a thought.”

Sylvia shambled into the hall. Over her shoulder, she called, “It’s that detective from county.”

“I’ll meet him in the conference room in two minutes.” Two minutes should be enough to sneak a quick call to Zoe. To make sure she hadn’t responded to any last minute runs. Damn it, he had to catch this guy. Otherwise he was going to be sorely tempted to assign her an armed escort every time she climbed into an ambulance.

Baronick’s voice boomed from outside Pete’s office door. “Tell him I don’t have two minutes to wait.”

“Stuff it, bub,” Sylvia said.

She’d never warmed up to Baronick. Pete doubted she ever would.

The detective appeared in the doorway. From the dark circles shadowing his eyes, he hadn’t slept in the last forty-eight hours either. “I wanted to touch base with you before I head back to Brunswick.”

Pete motioned to the chair Sylvia had occupied, but Baronick shook his head. “If I sit, I’ll fall asleep.”

“Should make for an interesting drive. You plan on standing the whole way?”

“No, but I’ll open the windows and crank up the air conditioning.” Baronick scrolled though the notes in his phone. “The state fire marshal arrived at the Loomis place a little bit ago, but we all know we’re dealing with arson.”

“I’ll talk to him later.”

“They’re still searching for spent casings, but the place is mud soup over there. The crime scene techs did manage to salvage one set of tracks near the spot we figure the suspect fired his shots. They appear to be a match to the same quad he used the night before.”

“Our guy knows the area.” Pete drained his mug and thunked it down on the desk. “He knows how to get into remote areas, where to hide, how to slip out unseen.”

Baronick grunted. “And he pays attention to the weather channel. Guess you can give up on Snake and the Livingston chick.”

“Looks that way. Except Eli ‘Snake’ Sullivan is still AWOL. Once again, he has no alibi.”

“He also has no motive. Whoever’s doing this isn’t going after individuals. He’s gunning for emergency personnel as a whole.” A strange look crossed the detective’s eyes. “When’s Zoe on duty again?”

Pete held Baronick’s gaze, knowing the detective carried a not-so-secret torch for her. “Her shift ends…” Pete checked his watch. Five minutes to eight. “Right about now. And she’ll be off duty until Tuesday at four.”

The faint smile that crossed Baronick’s face might have been a smirk if he weren’t so exhausted. “That gives us a little over three days to catch this asshole.”

“Let’s not wait that long. I don’t want to give this guy a chance to go gunning for any more of our fire or ambulance personnel.”

Baronick nodded and turned to leave. “I’m going to the Dyer kid’s autopsy, if I can stay awake. I bet Zoe’ll be there.”

Pete tamped down a quick rush of jealousy. Zoe had no interest in the detective. They both knew that. Baronick was egging him for sport. “Possibly.”

Baronick took two steps out the door and then backed up. “You mentioned our shooter aiming for fire and ambulance personnel. Be careful out there, Pete. He might just include law enforcement in his vendetta.”