Page 29 of Danger in the Wilderness (National Park Protectors #1)

D ekker’s heart rate increased, elevating the terror consuming his body. The station was on fire, and he had to help get everyone evacuated. He wrapped an arm around Blaire’s waist. “We need to vacate the building. Lean on me, okay?”

She nodded and nestled into his hold.

A place he’d like her to stay, but obviously not a place she wanted to be. Her reaction to his almost kiss told him everything he needed to know.

She wasn’t interested in being more than friends.

But a question remained heavy on his foggy mind. How could he only be friends when he now knew he wanted more?

Smoke assaulted his nose, and he ignored his silent question. Right now, he had to get her out of the station. “Pull your shirt up over your nose. Let’s go.”

She complied, and they shuffled out of the lunchroom, staying low.

Thudding steps resonated throughout the station as employees and searchers headed toward both exits. Smoke clouded Dekker’s vision, and he struggled to maintain his balance with Blaire leaning heavily on him.

His gut instinct told him to head to the rear entrance, so he nudged her to the right. “This way.”

They hobbled past the boardroom.

“Wait! Stop!” Blaire coughed and pointed to the room. “Need—case—board.”

Flames spat out the entrance.

“Too late. It’s gone. Come on.” He tugged on her, practically hauling her past the room toward the open back door.

Yelling sounded behind him, but he concentrated on getting Blaire outside. He coughed and willed his legs to move faster, but her weight slowed him down. Dekker mustered strength and lifted Blaire into his arms, running toward the door.

Almost there.

A breeze flowed through the open entrance, beckoning Dekker.

The air summoned strength into his limbs, and he pushed forward until he reached the door, rushing into the still daylight evening hour.

Spying his colleagues huddled beside a picnic table, he carried Blaire there and gently eased her onto the bench.

She coughed, struggling to breathe.

He squatted in front of her. “Slow, small breaths to start. Do it with me, Blaire.” Dekker breathed in. Then out.

She did the same.

“Good girl. Again.” In. Out. In. Out.

“Thank you. Much better.” Her eyes widened. “My laptop, case files and camera were in that room. All lost.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but it was gone even before we got to it. Flames totally engulfed the room.” Dekker noted the group beside him. “You guys all okay?”

They nodded.

“Did anyone call 911?” Dekker asked.

Nadia raised her cell phone. “I did.”

“Dekker!” Manny and Huck raced toward them. “Glad to see you both got out,” Manny said.

“You too.” Dekker surveyed those who had vacated the building. Thankfully, most employees had already left for the day. He analyzed the station.

The right half of the building was on fire. The side that in cluded their lunchroom and the boardroom. “I’m guessing whoever started the fire wanted to destroy Blaire’s murder board.”

Manny placed his hands on his hips. “You think someone deliberately started the fire?”

“You don’t?”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“It was PCK. He knows we’re getting closer and wanted to destroy what evidence we had gathered.” Blaire rubbed her ankle. “Little does he know this won’t stop us.”

Distant sirens pierced the evening hour.

Manny used his index finger, counting the entire group. “Where’s Nicols?”

Once again, Dekker’s pulse elevated. “He’s still inside. We need to find him.”

He charged toward the flaming building, ignoring the approaching sirens and Blaire yelling at him to stop.

Dekker had to save his leader.

He untucked his uniform shirt and covered his mouth, rounding the corner of the building with Manny at his heels.

Dekker turned. “Stay here.”

“What? And let you get all the glory for saving Nicols? Try and stop me.” Manny raised his shirt to his mouth and shielded his face, entering the building.

Dekker followed, the heat bullrushing him as he made his way into the foyer. “Gage! Call out!”

Flames from the right grew, swarming their way toward the duo. They must find their boss and fast.

Manny yelled his name.

Only the whooshing flames responded.

Dekker pointed toward the left hallway. “Office.” He crouched and stumbled toward his supervisor’s office, yelling his name as he entered.

A moan came from the right.

Gage Nicols lay slumped beside his bookshelf.

“Manny, in here.” Dekker crawled toward his leader. Smoke had reached the left side of the building. “We’ll get you out.”

“Hit. Me.” The man’s words came out forced.

“Shhh…don’t talk.” Dekker helped him up and put Nicols’s arm around his shoulder.

Manny did the same with their supervisor’s other arm. “Stay low.”

They made their way out of the office and into the foyer as firefighters entered.

“Over here,” Dekker yelled.

A firefighter sprinted forward. “I’ve got him.” He lifted him up and over his back. “Get out everyone.”

Dekker staggered from the building and gasped for air, coughing as he headed toward Blaire.

She hobbled to her feet and slapped him. “Never do that again, Dekker Hoyt. You scared me.” She pulled him into her arms.

“We found him. He was in his office passed out.” Dekker held tightly to the woman he moments ago desperately wanted to kiss.

She released him. “You stink like a fire.”

He chuckled. “I think we all do.”

The firefighter propped Nicols against the picnic bench. “You okay, sir?”

He nodded.

Dekker squatted beside his leader. “What happened? Why didn’t you evacuate?”

Nicols rubbed his head. “Someone clocked me from behind.”

“What? Who would do that to you?” Dekker couldn’t think of a nicer person than Supervisor Gage Nicols. He repeatedly put his staff first.

“No idea, but it hurts bad.”

“Did you see anyone?” Manny asked. “Someone inside must have started the fire.”

“I saw a figure rushing out the back entrance, but they were too fast. I couldn’t identify them.”

Must have been the suspect fleeing the scene.

“Paramedics are on the way, sir. I’ve got to help put out the fire.” The young male firefighter dashed back to the truck, picked up a hose and ran toward the building.

More sirens announced both an ambulance and constables arriving at the scene. Constable White sprang out of his cruiser and hurried toward the group. “Dekker, Blaire, you okay?”

They nodded.

“Blaire, I have news re your profile. It’s—” White’s radio squawked, but the garbled message was inaudible. He pressed the button. “Constable Hudson, didn’t get that. Repeat.”

“Ambulance attacked en route to the hospital. Shot my tires out. No pursuit.” The radio screeched, drowning out her next sentence.

“Repeat,” White commanded.

Dekker held his breath at Hudson’s news.

“Rick Mason abducted.”

Blaire cried out. “No! Not again!”

“Are you okay, Abby?” White asked.

“Fine. Angry he got the drop on me. Other constables are on scene.” A commotion sailed over the airwaves. “Gotta go.”

“Copy that.” White turned to the group. “PCK obviously wants Rick Mason out of the picture.”

“He probably knows his identity,” Blaire said. “What were you going to tell me about the profile?”

White brought out his notebook. “Peter Koden recalled something and phoned me moments ago. Remember your question about someone getting lost?”

“Yes. What did he remember?” Blaire sat up straighter.

“A young five-year-old girl got lost in a park north of here three years ago. No one could find her and…” His voice trailed off.

“She didn’t make it, did she?”

He shook his head. “It was later in the season and had turned colder. She died from the elements.”

“What?” Blaire and Dekker said, simultaneously.

“And that’s why PCK is targeting park wardens and park officers,” Blaire said. “He blames them for his child’s death.”

“And wants to make all of us pay.” Dekker latched on to White’s arm. “Whose child died?”

“Paramedic Travis Moore’s.”

Dekker noted the shock on Blaire’s face as the same question she was probably thinking pummeled into his brain.

Was Travis PCK?

***

Blaire leaned against the truck’s armrest, pondering everything that had happened in the past two hours.

Firefighters had contained the fire and confirmed it had started in the boardroom.

Someone torched her murder board with gas.

Obviously wanting to wipe away the case.

Constables had searched for the suspect but came up empty.

Paramedics had treated those who required attention.

However, paramedic Travis Moore was nowhere to be found.

His partner told them he had requested a week off—citing he required more time to recover from the emotional trauma of the helicopter crash, but his wife said she didn’t know where he went.

Constable White put out a BOLO for the man, but so far, no leads had materialized.

Dekker and Blaire were now headed back to the ranch.

A question gnawed at Blaire. “Dekker, you don’t remember Travis’s daughter getting lost?”

“I do now that White mentioned it, but I totally forgot since it didn’t take place in Clovercross Park and was three years ago. Bad memory. Plus, I was away when it happened.”

“So Travis isn’t from this area?”

“No. He and his wife moved here about a year ago.” Dekker tapped the steering wheel with his thumb. “I don’t know him well, but he’s a good paramedic. His wife does a lot of volunteer work. She’s been helping Nicols with the search teams.”

“Are they well-liked?”

“When I first met them, they were standoffish, but have warmed up to the community.” Dekker snapped his fingers. “Now that I think about Travis and Wendy’s daughter, I remember something.”

“What?”

“They found her leaning against a tree with leaves on her body as if she tried to use them to stay warm.”

Blaire swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “That poor little girl. That’s exactly why PCK is leaving his vics the same way. His remorse for what he did and a tribute to his daughter.”

“But why would he torture them?”