Page 23 of Forged By Fire (Danger in Destiny #9)

Chapter Twenty-Two

E veryone at the station greeted Leslie with hugs and smiles.

They asked if she was doing okay and wanted to know if she’d heard from Danny or Becca yet that morning.

It was good to be back. At the same time, being there without Danny didn’t feel right, especially since she hadn’t heard from Becca since the text the night before.

Even though everyone went about business as usual, the general energy of the station felt muted.

Leslie spent her morning cleaning her gear and checking every inch of it after the warehouse fire.

It was more of a formality because Bryce had been kind enough to come back that night and wash out any trace of Danny’s blood.

She was thankful because she didn’t think she could’ve made it through that and kept her composure.

Still, even though she knew Bryce would’ve cleaned her gear, she went over it again anyway for something to focus on.

After that, she and Bryce went over the ladder truck from front to back, inside and out.

Even though it wasn’t unusual to work with him, she had a feeling he, or other co-workers, were sticking close to keep an eye on her.

In fact, with the exception of a trip to the bathroom, she hadn’t been more than five or six feet from someone since she’d arrived.

“I know what you’re doing, Bryce. You and the others. I appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

“I don’t doubt that. But there’s someone out there who has it out for you, and maybe firefighters at this station in general.

We talked about it before you came back, and the chief agreed.

No one is going to be on their own until this case gets wrapped up.

Since your partner isn’t here right now, the rest of us will just have to stand in for him.

” His blue eyes held compassion while his deep voice relayed his conviction.

“We’re all praying for Danny. He’s a fighter. ”

“He sure is.”

“And so are you, Granger.”

Tears stung her eyes, and she fought to keep them at bay. She gave him a nod of thanks and reached for a change of subject. She sniffed once and wiped at her right eye where one tear had managed its escape.

“How’s Megan doing? Does she enjoy being home with Alexander?”

Their little boy was fixing to be a year old in a couple of weeks. Megan worked for the hospital as a nurse, but once Alexander was born, she decided to leave her job to be a stay-at-home mom.

“She loves it. I like it, too. It’s nice because, when I’m off work, we can do things together as a family. There’s no trying to keep our schedules straight. I think she’ll probably go back to work once Alexander’s in school, but we’ve got a few years to figure that out.”

“That’s great. I can’t believe he’s going to be one already. It seems like he was just born, and you were bringing him in to meet us yesterday.” After testing the fans, Leslie stored them back on the truck and started to inventory the search and rescue equipment.

“Tell me about it. He took his first step yesterday.” Bryce grinned, the pride evident in the way his eyes twinkled.

“Oh, my goodness! That’s amazing. Okay, now there’s no stopping him, and nothing is safe.” She laughed. “Are they coming by for lunch today?”

“No, not today. Megan’s mom wanted to take them shopping and find Alexander some clothes for his birthday.”

Leslie couldn’t wait to see Clint when he showed up for dinner tonight. She was glad he was coming and didn’t regret inviting him, but she was already preparing herself for the teasing that was bound to happen.

She lowered her voice a little. “Hey, Clint Baker is coming by to eat with us tonight.”

Bryce had just finished putting the last of the ventilation equipment back on board. He turned, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Is he coming in an official capacity or…”

“Yes?” It was good for a police presence to show up at the station off and on. But she really invited him because not seeing him for a full twenty-four hours sounded like torture.

Apparently, that was all the answer Bryce needed. He chuckled. “And you’d like me to run interference?”

Their friend and fellow firefighter, Chet Holden, never missed an opportunity to tease them. Especially if it had to do with something in their personal life.

His latest victim was Curtis Whitman, who recently joined their ranks as a fire medic. Every time Curtis’s fiancée, Rory, stopped by, Chet always had to rib the poor couple. He was a great guy, and normally they all took it in stride, but Leslie didn’t want him to make Clint feel uncomfortable.

It wasn’t all that long ago that Bryce invited Megan to join them for her first meal at the station. Now she was just another member of their large family.

“I’ll do my best. But you know what it’s like around here…”

“Yep.” And she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

It was maddening the way Christopher King kept his hands clasped on top of the table in front of him and answered each question Detective Paris threw at him without missing a beat.

Every answer was immediate, to the point, with nothing added that wasn’t requested.

The guy had missed his calling as an undercover agent for the CIA.

Clint was in the room with them, his ankle crossed over his left knee, doing his best to look interested but not in a hurry. They needed King to know that they expected answers, but their case didn’t revolve around him.

“I’m going to ask you again, why was there a scanner in the janitorial closet, and why were the only fingerprints on it yours?” Paris sat in a chair opposite the table from King and leveled him with a look that would’ve made most suspects uneasy.

King stared right back. “And like I already told you, I found it sitting in the hallway. I didn’t want someone to trip over it, so I put it in the closet to get it out of the way. I had no way of knowing whether it had any fingerprints on it.” His gaze was steady. Unnaturally so.

“Had you ever seen anyone else use a scanner like that in the building? ”

“No.”

Clint leaned forward slightly. “Why were you at the back of the warehouse so near the fire? You should have evacuated the building when the alarm sounded, like everyone else.”

King’s gaze flicked to him with the same level of non-emotion. “I wanted to make sure everyone else had gotten out. It’s my job to keep the employees safe, with or without a fire.”

Before bringing him in for questioning, Clint had reached out to Chief Menendez at Fire Station Two and asked about King’s condition when the firefighters had located him.

They said he seemed confused and panicked—far cry from how he was acting now.

Either the guy crumbled under real emergencies like the fire, or he was a good actor.

Was he acting now , or was his real performance back in the warehouse?

They knew he wasn’t the actual shooter. Keyes and Cho had gotten him out of the warehouse before Danny had become a target. But the further they got into this investigation, the more Clint was convinced the shooter—whoever he was—hadn’t been acting alone.

Paris must’ve been thinking along the same lines. “Did you get turned around in the warehouse?”

“Yes, between the smoke and the electricity being turned off, it was easy to get confused.”

“Did you see anyone else while you were clearing the building?”

“No one. It seemed everyone else had gotten out already. Which is a good thing.” For the first time since he’d come in for questioning, the corners of King’s mouth lifted up in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m thankful none of my co-workers were hurt in the fire.”

“As are we, I assure you.” Paris stood. “Unfortunately, there’s still a firefighter who’s fighting for his life right now. A man who was originally in there looking for you.”

Again, no physical or obvious emotional reaction.

“I hope he makes a full recovery.”

Clint doubted the guy cared one bit about Danny or anyone else. He suspected that, if King had really been in danger from the fire inside the warehouse, he would’ve been one of the first to leave, regardless of whether his co-workers had gotten out yet or not.

Paris stood, and Clint followed suit.

“Thank you for coming in. You are free to go. I’ll have Officer Carrington give you a ride back home. We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.”

King stood and nodded. “Whatever I can do to help.”

Clint followed Paris out of the room and back to the conference room, where he closed the door behind them.

Paris sat on the edge of the table. “What’s your take?”

“I don’t believe a word he says.” Clint jabbed his hands into his pants pockets. “It all sounded rehearsed. Like he was repeating something he’d read or thought through a million times, with no emotion behind it.”

“I agree. We know he wasn’t the shooter, but I’m willing to bet he knows who is.

Whether King’s covering for someone else or just trying to keep from getting caught himself, it’s hard to know.

I’m going to have someone follow him and watch his place.

Let’s see if anyone tries to get in touch with him.

In the meantime, check in with Logan. See if those financials have come in yet. ”

“I’m on it.”

Clint walked through the bullpen and down the hall to where Logan’s office was. The man’s desk was a technological marvel with multiple landscape monitors mounted on the wall above it. There was something different pulled up on each one.

Logan sat in a black and red desk chair that looked more like something a gamer would use.

The moment Clint entered through the open door, Logan looked up.

“You’re here about…”

“Christopher King’s financials.”

“Ah!” He pulled a file up on the third monitor. Clearly, the man had multiple things going on at the same time.

Clint admired his ability to keep track of them all like he did.

“Here we go.” Logan pointed to a set of bank statements.

“According to these, King gets a paycheck weekly. That paycheck has been pretty consistent through the two years he’s worked for the paper company.

It looks like he earned a small raise last Christmas, which is reflected here.

” He used his mouse to highlight the first time the pay amount had increased.

“Now, here’s where it gets interesting. Starting about five months ago, he began to deposit five hundred dollars into his checking account every Monday. ”

“That’s pretty unusual. Any idea where he’s getting the money from?”

“None. He deposits cash, he does it himself, and he always uses the drive-through at the bank. Five hundred dollars at a time like that isn’t a large enough sum to cause the bank any concern.

I checked the bank’s security.” Logan’s hands flew over the keyboard until a picture of King, seated in the front seat of his car, popped up on the monitor.

“And it’s always him, and he’s always alone in the car. ”

“Has there been an increase in his spending?”

“No, he’s just been adding to the balance in his account. There’s nothing else unusual going on, at least not on paper.”

“Could you send a picture of King to my phone, please?”

“You’ve got it.”

“All right, Logan, thanks.”

Clint pulled his phone out as he left the office. He wanted to send Leslie a picture of King and give her an update. It’d be good if she at least knew what he looked like in case he showed up at the station.