Page 3 of Forged By Fire (Danger in Destiny #9)

Chapter Three

S he’d lived through the ordeal, and even though she was telling Clint everything, it still didn’t seem real.

It was as though Leslie was trapped in a strange dream—the kind induced by a high fever—and she couldn’t snap out of it.

All she wanted to do was wake up and find herself in her bunk at the fire station with Danny’s laughter filtering in from the dining area.

“Can you remember exactly what he said? The words he used?”

Leslie nodded. “He told Danny, ‘No. It’s too late for that.’ And that’s when he pulled the trigger.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t understand why any of this happened.”

“Did you or Danny approach him at all?”

“No. Danny had both of his hands up, trying to show that we weren’t a threat.

” And she’d been rooted to the floor. Leslie knew there was nothing she could’ve done to prevent the chain of events, but she wondered if she’d tried to speak, if she might have been able to dissuade the shooter.

Even as the thought flitted through her mind, she knew the answer.

“Did he ever aim the gun at you?”

“I’m not sure. Danny moved to stand between me and the gun.

After that, it was aimed squarely at Danny the entire time.

” She felt the familiar sting of tears behind her eyelids and tried her best to blink them away.

Crying right now would serve no purpose except to give her an even worse headache than the one she was already dealing with.

“After the gun was fired, what did the suspect do?”

“He immediately turned and left the room.” She closed her eyes and let the scene play again in her mind.

“He didn’t run, and he never looked back.

He walked out. Like those action movies where someone throws a grenade into a building and walks away like it’s no big deal as the explosion goes off behind him. ”

When she opened her eyes again, she half expected Clint to be looking at her as though she might be going crazy. Instead, his gaze was filled with a combination of respect and determination.

Maybe she and Clint weren’t close friends, but she’d known him long enough to trust he would do everything in his power to find the man who’d tried to kill Danny.

She just wished she had a description or something to help.

Because if he did manage to get out of the warehouse alive and undetected, once he dumped the gear, it’d be nearly impossible to find him.

Clint must’ve been thinking along the same lines. “If you heard the man’s voice again, would you recognize it?”

She wished there’d been something distinctive about the shooter’s voice.

“I don’t think so.” The idea that, if this guy managed to escape the warehouse and make it past everyone outside, he might get away with it all made her stomach ache.

“I keep going over it in my head, and none of this makes sense. There had to be something else we could do. But we never thought something like this could happen.”

Leslie wanted some answers. Becca would need them when she arrived in Destiny. Right now, they had nothing.

A touch to her hand brought Clint’s face into focus.

He watched her with concern. “No one could’ve predicted that an armed assailant might be hiding inside a burning warehouse.” His phone rang, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before standing up and answering it. “Baker here.”

Leslie slid her hands between her thighs and the chair she was sitting on.

She jiggled her right foot up and down as she watched Clint.

Had someone found the shooter? She really needed some good news.

When Becca arrived at the hospital, Leslie wanted to be able to tell her that the man who shot her husband was in custody.

For the tenth time, she lifted a silent prayer that Danny would be okay.

Clint listened intently for several moments before relaying what Leslie had said about the man in the warehouse.

“I agree. Having someone posted outside Bracken’s room once he’s out of surgery would be a good idea.

” He glanced at Leslie, but his expression was unreadable.

“Understood. I’ll call once we get an update. ”

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and sat down on the chair next to hers. “That was a detective I work with. The fire’s out, although it’ll be a while before the inspector can go in and officially determine what started it.”

There was something in his voice that told Leslie there was more to the story. They always had to have an official investigation done when it came to fires, especially if insurance was involved. Often, though, the cause of the fire was obvious. “But Holden or Warren had a guess.”

Clint nodded once. “Kerosene was used as an accelerant.”

“There’d be no need for kerosene in a warehouse like that. Especially one that’s specifically storing paper.”

“Exactly. The inspector will check into it further as soon as it’s safe to do so.

In the meantime, there are security cameras for that warehouse as well as other warehouses in the same vicinity.

We’ll be combing through the footage to see if we can catch a glimpse of the arsonist. And the shooter, assuming they’re two different individuals. ”

Nausea swirled in Leslie’s stomach. “Which means he hasn’t been caught yet.”

“There’s been no sign of him. We’re searching the warehouse, but it’s expansive, with aisles of boxes filled with paper waiting for distribution. There are countless places to hide. He also could’ve slipped out in the chaos before additional units even arrived.”

A nightmare. This whole thing was a complete nightmare.

What if Danny didn’t make it? What if the shooter got away with this? The idea that he could just be out there somewhere made Leslie nervous. She homed in on what Clint said regarding someone being posted outside Danny’s room.

“Do you think someone might come here to hurt Danny?”

Clint studied her face for a moment. “Honestly? I don’t know.

But we’d rather take precautions. The truth is, there’s more to the situation than we know right now.

If you and Bracken had stumbled on some kind of crime in progress, then our suspect wouldn’t have been wearing firefighter gear.

Whatever was going on, it was thought out. Planned way in advance. ”

“Which means there was probably an escape route planned, too.”

“Agreed. Even if the person who shot Bracken was responsible for setting the warehouse fire in the first place, wearing the gear suggests he had no intention of dying in there.”

Leslie was in desperate need of some caffeine.

Something to give her a little jolt of energy and maybe…

just maybe… clear her head. But she didn’t see any in the immediate vicinity, and she didn’t want to leave if Becca arrived or the doctor came out with an update.

“There are way too many possibilities. Too many unknowns.”

“Agreed. I think Detective Paris is taking the case. We’ll systematically go through everything and see if we can piece together what happened.

For now, we’ll wait for word on Bracken.

Hopefully, the doctor will be able to recover the bullet, which we can run through ballistics and look for a match. ”

“Right. We wait.” She hated waiting. Didn’t everybody, though? Was Clint going to stay with her? The way he worded it made it sound like he was.

Now that the fire was out, other members of their company would be arriving at the hospital as soon as they could.

Until then, the last thing she wanted was to sit alone.

It was too easy to let her thoughts wander.

To think of all the what-ifs. Or the things she might have done to change the outcome.

“Can I get you something to drink? Or eat?”

Clint’s concerned voice broke through her thoughts.

“What? Oh.” She glanced at the nurses’ station where everything was just as it had been minutes earlier. “Yeah. I need something caffeinated. Coffee. Or a Coke.”

“I’ll be right back.” He stood, lightly touched her shoulder, and left the waiting area.

Leslie’s phone rang, and her sister’s name popped up on the screen. She took a steady breath and answered it. “Hey, Cindy. Is everything okay?”

Immediately, Leslie heard the cries of her two-year-old niece, Bree, in the background.

“Oh, it’s great.” Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

“Bree has another double ear infection, and she’s just a mess.

I’m waiting for the pharmacy to fill her antibiotic, but the doctor said it’ll take at least twenty-four hours before she starts feeling better.

Once she starts the meds.” Cindy paused.

“The doctor is going to refer us to an ENT and is recommending they put tubes in her ears.”

Poor baby. Bree had dealt with far more than her fair share of ear infections in her two years of life. If tubes could finally end the constant cycle of infections and antibiotics, it would be worth it.

Cindy, her husband Peter, and their two girls lived in Destiny less than fifteen minutes from Leslie’s house. She saw them often. Five-year-old Izzy was obsessed with talking to Leslie on the phone, too. Sometimes the conversations the girl started had Leslie in stitches.

“I’m sorry you’re going through all of this. I hope, if the ENT agrees that tubes are necessary, that they’ll help Bree feel better. She’s had more than her fair share of ear infections.”

“She sure has. I just hope Peter can be here for the procedure.”

Peter had been traveling out of town for work since before the girls were born. It was getting harder and harder on Cindy now, though, especially when Bree was sick .

“Let me know when you find out about the procedure. I’ll arrange for vacation and come take care of Izzy.”

Cindy’s sigh of relief was palpable even over the phone. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Anytime.”

“I’m hoping the ENT will call back with an appointment. Peter should be home by dinner tonight. I’ll talk to him about it then, too.” There was shuffling in the background. Bree’s cries were closer, but they were starting to calm a little.

An announcement went over the hospital’s loudspeakers and must have carried over the phone call.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the hospital. Danny was hurt today. He’s in surgery.” Leslie didn’t want to elaborate. Not right now.

“Les. I’m sorry. Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m hoping they’ll come out to give us an update soon.

Prayers are appreciated.” Movement caught her eye.

She lifted her chin to find Clint approaching, a large cup of coffee in his right hand and a paper bag in his left.

He gave her a questioning look. “Hey, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Love ya.”

“Love you, too.” Leslie ended the call and cradled the phone in the palm of her hand. She suppressed a sigh as everything over the last couple of hours shifted like an unsteady weight on her shoulders. How was she going to balance it all without something falling out of place?

Clint reclaimed his chair. “Any news?”

“No, that was my sister. My niece is sick, and my sister is kinda running on empty right now, trying to take care of everything by herself.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He handed over the coffee. “ I don’t know how you like it, so I came prepared.” He opened the paper bag and proceeded to pull out a variety of single-use packets of sugar and creamer cups. “Hopefully, something in here will work.”

Leslie chose two packets of raw sugar and two cups of vanilla creamer. “This is amazing. Thank you.” She took the lid off the cup, added everything, and stirred it. As soon as she replaced the lid, she took a sip and imagined the warm liquid permeating every cell in her body.

When she looked over at him, she found him watching her. The corners of his mouth twitched with amusement.

“I know. I should have a little coffee with my sugar and cream.” Her sister was always criticizing Leslie for the amount of “stuff” she put in her coffee.

“Oh, no judgment here. I imagine I’d have to put twice that to make it palatable for me.”

“You don’t like coffee?”

He gave his head a decisive shake. “I love the smell of it, but can’t stand the taste.”

“Truthfully? I prefer a good cup of hot chocolate or chocolate milk any day. But beggars can’t be choosers.

” Leslie took another sip. Honestly, it was some pretty terrible coffee that was barely made palatable with all the sugar and creamer that she’d added.

That’s why she typically went with a bottle of Coke if she needed the caffeine.

At least she knew what it was going to taste like every time.

“I don’t know about that.” He reached into the bag and produced a large chocolate chip cookie wrapped in plastic. “I didn’t know if you were hungry, but figured few people can turn down chocolate.”

The cookie was nearly as big as her hand. She was about to suggest they split it when a nurse walked toward them from across the room .

Leslie set the cookie down on the chair and stood, her hands cupped around her coffee. Clint stood with her.

The nurse, whose name tag read Humphrey, extended a hand to Clint. “The doctor removed a single bullet from Daniel Bracken’s chest. He said you’d want it for evidence.”

“Yes, thank you.” Clint lifted the jar and looked inside. “I’ll get this to the lab right away.”

“How’s Danny doing?” Somehow, Leslie’s voice sounded calm. Normal. Not at all representative of how she felt on the inside.

“The doctor is working on him now. The bullet missed his heart, but there was extensive damage. He’ll come out and give you an update once he’s wrapped up the surgery.” The nurse reached over and laid a hand on Leslie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don’t have more information for you.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

The nurse crossed the room and disappeared behind a set of double doors. Only then did Leslie allow herself to drop into her chair.

Nurse Humphrey hadn’t said much, but it sounded like Danny’s condition wasn’t good. She prayed for guidance and steady hands for the surgeon, that Becca would arrive as quickly as possible, and that the bullet might give the police a lead toward finding Danny’s shooter.