Cold Fire, page 20
‘No, you son of a bitch. You’re done. You aren’t burning another thing.’
‘You’ve got me, but it won’t make a goddamn difference. My brothers won’t stop, not until we take everything away and she’s burned the way our mom was burned.’
While Pinky stepped aside, Po’s fist bunched in the front of the man’s jacket. He dragged him to his feet. It was so he could strike him down again. His fist smashed the guy’s jaw, knocking him on his ass. Po’s grasp transferred to the man’s hair. He twisted, contorting his neck sideways. The edge of his other hand made a blade. ‘You punk, I should take your goddamn head off.’
Literally he wouldn’t decapitate the arsonist’s head, but a knife-edge blow delivered with force to the carotid sinus could kill. Pinky could tell that Po was on the verge of dealing the punishment and he understood why: these brothers, sons of a woman sent back to prison meant to harm the person they deemed responsible for handing her in. Their target wasn’t Po, and it wasn’t Pinky. It had always been Tess.
Pinky observed, then after a moment he reached and laid his hand on Po’s shoulder. He would intervene if his friend couldn’t control the rage, but for the moment it was apt that the arsonist fear he was about to die. It was small payback in return for what the asshole and his brothers had put them through. There was once a time when Po’s need for revenge had gone too far and he’d spent years behind bars as a result. Pinky wouldn’t allow him to make the same mistake again. Under his hand, Po shivered, and then the tautness melted from him and he shoved the arsonist back down into the snow.
Po and Pinky again exchanged glances. This time there was no confusion.
‘I’ve got him covered, me,’ said Pinky. ‘You should go and check that Tess is safe.’
Without uttering a reply Po set off at a dash, racing again through falling snow as the blizzard returned.
‘Can you walk?’ Pinky asked.
The arsonist groaned and reached to touch his sore face. Before his tentative fingers had completed probing his swollen jaw, he hissed and reached instead for his thigh. Pinky’s bullet had barely creased him, but the wound bled profusely and probably stung like a bitch. ‘You shot me,’ the man accused.
‘Yep, I did that, me. Call it payback for shooting at me outta that car down on Cumberland Avenue. That was you, right, cause you aren’t either of the assholes I caught troubling that innocent old lady.’ Pinky wasn’t totally soulless. No, he understood why the siblings might have a need for vengeance against those they thought had lead to their mother’s injuries. In a fashion he could respect them fulfilling their family duty. But they’d overstepped a line by involving Anne Ridgeway, and for that reason he saw them as worse than dirt.
‘How’d you expect me to walk with a shot leg?’
‘With a limp?’ Pinky countered. ‘The thing is, I’m taking you back, me, and if I must carry you I’m going to knock you the hell out first. Will be easier on the two of us if you can haul your own ass out of the woods.’
As expected, the arsonist found his feet.
‘OK, off you trot, you,’ said Pinky, with a gesture of a pistol. ‘Try anything funny, the next bullet goes in your spine.’
THIRTY-TWO
‘What’s going on out there?’ Detective Ratcliffe asked from within the house.
‘Hold on, I’m still figuring things out,’ said Tess.
She’d gotten no further than the porch before halting. She swept the yard with her gaze, seeking anything out of place. The Mustang was an ugly blot, but she’d already taken in its appearance so it didn’t stand out as it had before. The Telluride, Pinky’s SUV and Ratcliffe’s car formed a partial wall so she’d no clear view to the woods where her fiancé and Pinky had disappeared minutes ago. She allowed her gaze to track to the left and right, watching for movement in her periphery as Po had once taught her to do. The falling snow made noting other movement more difficult, but she thought that any shadows or colors moving against the tumbling flakes would be conspicuous.
Nothing alarming pricked at her senses.
She put some faith in her senses, but more so in tactics and strategy. She treated the scoping of the yard as if it were a crime scene she’d just rolled up to in her sheriff’s cruiser. She kept the pistol trained wherever she looked, holding it in both hands: her bandaged hand made supporting the gun awkward but not too much. Her index finger lay alongside the trigger guard.
She should check the entire perimeter, especially her blind spots to the sides and behind the house; anyone could be lurking there. But that would leave the front door unguarded, so for now her presence was more valuable there. Ratcliffe was the final line of defence, making Tess the first, if Harper made a play to get at Joanne again.
‘See anything?’ asked Ratcliffe.
‘The guys chased an intruder into the woods,’ Tess replied. ‘I think it’s connected to these darn fires and not with Joanne being here. I heard gunfire, a single shot, but nothing since. We can’t lower our guard just yet.’
‘I should drive Jo to the nearest police station,’ Ratcliffe announced.
‘You’re probably right, but let’s hold on til the guys come back. We can form a convoy with our vehicles, put you guys at the center and protect Joanne that way.’
Tess had fully intended calling Alex and arranging a police escort for the women, but that was before Pinky and Po had gone hurtling off like hounds chasing a jackrabbit. She couldn’t allow the distraction of making a phone call until somebody else was on guard outside. Time was precious and the sooner they could move Joanne the better; however they must do it safely and not while other intruders could be in the vicinity. If the sisters drove away without support, they could be heading directly into a trap.
It wasn’t surprising that their strategy had changed from avoiding the cops to intending rushing directly to them. Now that Joanne was under her sister’s personal protection, nothing untoward should happen to her. Before then Joanne had feared that she’d be gunned down as a despised fugitive, or that she’d be ripped to pieces by a wrongly informed baying mob, but things had grown clearer and the general consensus now held that Joanne was probably not a coconspirator and was instead running terrified for her life from those responsible for the violent incursion of the Blackhorse house. Of course, there’d always be someone with a gripe, a chip on their shoulder, or simply a vile piece of work who’d swear there was no smoke without fire and that Joanne should be strung up for what had happened to the children in her care.
There had been previous cases when Tess had avoided alerting the authorities until after the dust had settled, but each time believed her reasons had been valid. It was usually in hindsight where she’d scolded herself for waiting. This time she didn’t think that trying to handle the murderous Harper was a sensible course of action, not in her condition, with a wounded hand and with a partner aching more from perceived shame than he was physically. Harper was the bad guy in all of this, and it should be he who was sent to prison for the remainder of his days, and not good people forced into unlawful actions.
Movement caught her eye, a shifting of the shadows under the trees to her right corner. She aimed the pistol, but immediately lowered it when the tall figure ducked out from under a bough laden with snow and into the yard. Po appeared unhurt as he scanned each side and then moved forward at a lope. She knew without him indicating that he’d spotted her on the porch, because she’d seen his shoulders lower an inch or two in relief. He was midway across the yard, and turned so that he could retreat backwards to her without losing sight of any potential enemies. Tess was already reasonably assured that the arsonist was a single interloper on this occasion, otherwise why hadn’t the others capitalized on the situation when Po and Pinky chased their pal?
‘Tess, I need you to go back inside,’ Po called.
‘We’re clear, Po, there’s nobody here.’
‘That’s not a chance I’m willing to take.’ He darted up on to the porch, took a brief glance at the pistol she held. ‘You should keep that close at all times, seein’ as it’s you those firebugs are after.’
‘What’s that? I’m the one the arsonists are attacking? I thought they went after my apartment because of Pinky living there?’
‘Yeah. So did we. But that was before we got it straight from the horse’s mouth.’
She looked at his scorched car. Bile flooded her throat. ‘Who’d I piss off enough for them to do that? Jeez, Po, everything we’ve been involved in for months has been low-key stuff.’
‘Has something to do with you sendin’ a woman to jail for breakin’ the terms of her parole.’
‘That isn’t on me,’ she said. ‘I don’t—’
She halted. Po knew she had zero involvement in returning a parole violator to jail, that was down to several hearings and the final decision of the Board of Parole. However, her services were often called on to locate absconded parolees and bail jumpers. She would find and detain them, and then hand them over to the relevant law enforcement authorities, so she supposed she was one small link in a chain. Sadly she couldn’t say who might be behind the arsonists’ rampage, because as she’d just said all their cases had been low-key. Why would anyone hate her so much that they’d have everything dear to her razed to the ground?
Po ushered her towards the entrance. ‘Let’s talk inside. There’s more to it than being responsible for sending this woman back, it’s what happened to her after that’s gotten her sons riled up.’
‘Carol Wolsey,’ Tess sighed.
‘Truth be told, I didn’t push to get a name only a motive. You can ask him directly. Pinky’s bringing in the firebug.’
‘I’m pretty certain it’s Wolsey. Don’t you recall, she was the one hiding out in one of her son’s trailers? We served the warrant on her for parole violation and took her to jail.’
‘Yeah, I recall she wasn’t a happy gal. Spittin’ and kickin’ the entire time, making wild threats.’
‘That’s the one. I didn’t give those threats any credence at the time. You know how some people react when you take away their liberty. She was screaming that we’d killed her by sending her back to jail, and we just ignored her and allowed her to let off steam. Seems maybe we should’ve listened after all.’
‘She wasn’t kiddin’ about us killing her. Not literally, but we apparently put her back in reach of some enemies in prison, and they set her ablaze. She survived, but barely. There’s enough life left in the mad bitch to sic her boys on you.’
‘Jeez, Po, how can we be judgmental about her after what happened to her?’
‘You don’t have to be. Just know that she’s still got a couple boys out there intent on lightin’ you up the same as happened to their momma. I’ve done the judgin’ and found them guilty of tryin’ to harm you and our babe and for that I’ve damned them all the way to hell.’
‘Maybe now you’ve captured one of them the others will back down.’
‘Why would they when they’ll be joinin’ their momma in prison before long? The one we caught swore his brothers aren’t the type for stopping, and I believe him.’
‘First it’s Harper and now these pyromaniacs. What is it about us that attracts monsters, Po?’
‘Pinky swears you’re on the side of the angels, so it stands to reason your enemies will be devils.’
She snorted at the absurdity.
Ratcliffe rose up from behind the kitchen counter. She’d lowered her pistol but wasn’t ready to holster it yet. ‘I take it we’re safe to come out of hiding?’
‘For now,’ Tess said, ‘but we’d best think about getting you out of here.’
Joanne raised her head above the counter. She said, ‘I just listened to what Po said about angels and devils, it isn’t the first time I’ve thought of Harper as a monster. If you are the type to attract them, then so must I.’
‘I’m a private investigator,’ said Tess, ‘so it kind of goes with the job, but a nanny shouldn’t have to worry about the kind of maniacs I often have to deal with. In fact, you’ve had enough to worry about these past few days and have suffered enough. Let’s get you somewhere safer.’
Po said, ‘We can’t go anywhere yet. Not until Pinky and his prisoner arrive. If you plan on taking Joanne to Alex, we should also give him the arsonist we caught.’
‘What’s keeping them?’ Tess wondered.
‘Beats me. I expected them to be right behind me.’ Po abruptly turned and headed for the door.
Tess darted to intercept him. ‘Take this.’
He eyed the pistol with distaste. ‘No thanks, it’s bad enough you were stabbed with my knife. If I lose the gun, who’s to say it won’t be used against you?’
‘Pardon the pun, but that’s a bit of a long shot.’
‘But not impossible.’
She had to concur, watching as he again slipped out of the door with only a knife in his boot. She followed, again posting up against the doorjamb. Po hadn’t gotten much further than she had earlier. He stood at the edge of the porch, one foot on the uppermost step. Beyond him, Pinky jabbed a reluctant prisoner to keep walking. The young man shambled, knees knocking.
‘What was the hold up?’ Po asked.
Tess checked, concerned that Pinky might have been injured. Pinky grinned without humor, nodded at the arsonist. ‘Apparently his leg is sore, him. Told him he’d better start strutting or I’d bust his ass with a kick. I only had to do it the once, me.’
He was one of the men responsible for causing the fires and yet he showed no remorse when he spotted Tess in the doorway. His mouth contorted in a snarl of hatred and his head jutted forward on a neck suddenly as taut as steel wire. ‘You’re the one,’ he hollered. ‘This is all on you, you stinking bitch.’
Taken aback by his vitriol Tess had no ready reply. It was for Po to protect her. He jumped down from the porch and grasped the man’s coat and yanked him towards the house. ‘You’d better keep a civil tongue in your mouth or else I’ll cut it out.’
Making such threats was pointless; in no shape or form was Po the type of man to mutilate another human being, regardless of the nature of the man’s crimes against them. However the arsonist must’ve understood he was on shaky ground, because he didn’t backchat Po. He turned aside his face, unable to meet Tess’s searching gaze. He looked like a kid. She moved so Po could push him indoors.
‘What are we going to do with him?’ she whispered as Po moved past.
‘Just keepin’ him in sight til we’re ready to leave.’
‘I was planning on using all our cars in a rolling convoy,’ she said, ‘but we can’t if we have to watch a captive.’
‘We don’t have to treat him with kid gloves. I’ll knock him out and he can ride to the police station in the trunk. That way we can all concentrate on what’s goin’ on outside.’
Detective Ratcliffe offered a solution. She held up a set of handcuffs unclipped from her hip. She’d finally holstered her service weapon. Pinky was reluctant to put away his guns and so was Tess. Po accepted the cuffs. At Po’s threat the young man had faltered in the open space between the kitchen and family room.
‘You mind not drippin’ blood all over the place?’ Po grasped the man and forced him to turn around and present his wrists to the cuffs. Once restrained, Po handed him a wad of paper towels and told him to get down on his knees. ‘You may as well mop the floor while you’re down there.’
It was a needlessly humiliating and cruel instruction, but Tess felt no sympathy. She, like Po before her, saw the youth as nothing other than a threat to their unborn baby.
Once the droplets of blood had been wiped, Po shoved the youth over on to his rump, and indicated that he should use the same wad to staunch his wound. Pinky menaced him from a few yards away. Ratcliffe must have gotten some of the story about the arson attacks from Pinky before they’d returned with Joanne. She was largely unfazed by them bringing inside a bleeding prisoner with no involvement in her sister’s trouble. She glanced down at the youth dispassionately, then looked at Tess without speaking. It was clear what she asked though, how soon would they be leaving?
‘If we’re all good to go, we should do it now.’
‘I’m good, me,’ said Pinky. ‘Want me to take this pukeball?’
‘No, we’ll take him with us. That way I can watch while Po drives. You can have pole position, Karen and Joanne next, then we’ll cover from the back. We should go to the main midtown office and I’ll have Alex meet us there.’
‘You heard the lady,’ Pinky told the arsonist. ‘Up you get, you, and it’s off to a cell.’
Seated on his butt, hands locked in front, the young man struggled to rise on his injured leg. Pinky clucked his tongue, reached in and lent a hand; he grabbed the man by his hair and dragged him to his feet.
‘There’s no need for that,’ the man croaked.
‘There was no need for shooting at me when I was trying to save an innocent old grandma,’ Pinky countered. ‘Now move it.’
Joanne was tentative following Pinky and his captive. She exchanged glances with her sister and Ratcliffe nodded in reassurance. ‘This will all soon be over,’ she promised.
Tess, trying not to be pessimistic, thought that this was actually the beginning of a long and troubling time ahead for the young woman. Even in protective custody she could remain a target of Harper and others of his ilk, because it had become apparent that this was not about a disgruntled employee taking out his revenge on his boss’s wife and kids. Case in point, the redhead swore she was ‘only Harper’s driver’, but had proved the lie when pistol-whipping Po and later trying to gut Tess, as those were the actions of somebody that knew what they were doing and had few qualms about hurting another person. In all good conscience she couldn’t work with a mass murderer – a child-killer – unless she was of a similar disposition. Tess feared that Harper and the redhead weren’t the only ones that Joanne might need to fear in the coming months or years until this was finally resolved.
