Redemption

Chapter 55

Okay, that’s a problem.

The reception area was on fire, which meant the only way out was blocked.

Decker called 911 and reported the fire and calmly asked for the fire department to get there before he was burned to nothing.

He peered around the edge of the hall to see the reception area filling up with smoke. Next, he looked to the ceiling. There were sprinkler heads mounted there. So why the hell weren’t they going off?

He coughed and fell back from the flames.

Well, this told him that he’d been right. There was something here that someone didn’t want discovered. They had searched the place, but out of an abundance of caution, they’d decided to then burn it down and somehow had disengaged the sprinkler system.

He retreated to Katz’s office and looked desperately around. He was on the fifth floor, so breaking the window and going out that way was not going to cut it.

He put all the items he’d found behind the panel in a cardboard box, ran into the workroom with it, grabbed bubble wrap off the shelf, and taped it all around the box. He rushed back into Katz’s office, ran to the window, and looked out, to make sure no one was walking down below on the sidewalk. He picked up her chair, carried it over to the window, and pounded it against the glass until the window shattered and fell away. He used the chair to scrape the rest of the glass away.

He looked down to make sure it was still clear and dropped the box. It fell to the sidewalk. He could hear the bubble wrap air pouches collectively pop when it hit the pavement. He hadn’t been concerned about anything in the box shattering on impact. Paper didn’t break. But it was very windy outside and if the box had burst open, he would have been running around the city trying to find the contents.

The problem was, his opening the window had let the wind and, with it, enormous amounts of oxygen into the space from the outside.

He turned and saw the flames right at the door of the office. Okay, this was getting damn tight.

He heard sirens and the screech of brakes from below and saw two fire engines pull up. He leaned out of the window and cried out, “The fire’s coming into this space. I need to get out. Now!”

The fireman signaled to him and four of them rushed to one of the trucks and pulled out an inflatable jump cushion, which they quickly pumped up and positioned under the window.

Decker looked down at it. From up here it seemed about the size of a twin bed.

Shit!

“Jump!” yelled one of the firemen.

“I’m a big guy. Will that hold me, or do you have a larger size?” Decker called back.

“This will hold you, don’t worry,” the fireman yelled back. “Just jump away from the building. Back to the ground. We’ll reposition if need be.”

Reposition if need be. Well that’s comforting.

He wondered when these guys had done their last refresher course on catching huge guys falling from great heights. He hoped it was this morning.

Decker turned to look at the flames.

Do I take my chances there?

Suddenly an explosion racked the office space and a gust of hot air blew embers over him.

Here goes nothing.

He climbed up on the windowsill, looked down to make sure he was lined up as best he could be with the cushion, said a silent prayer, and jumped.

He was looking up at the sky, which was better than looking at where he was going. Were they repositioning right now? Or were they freaking out because they’d totally screwed up? Was he about to slam into the pavement?

Unsettling thoughts, but he needed something to pass the time because it felt like he was falling for about five miles, instead of five floors.

When he hit the cushion instead of the pavement, all the air was still knocked out of him. Hands grabbed at him and hoisted him quickly to his feet.

“You okay?” asked one of the firemen.

“I am now.”

“Anybody else in there?”

“Not in the office I was in now. I don’t know about the rest of the building.”

“Any idea how it started?”

“Yeah, which is why I’m calling in the arson squad.” Decker showed the stunned firemen his creds. “Someone turned off the sprinkler system in the building,” he said.

Another fireman came up with the box Decker had dropped. “We found this on the street.”

Decker took the box from him. “Right where I dropped it. Thanks.”

As the men were fighting the fire, Decker sat on the opposite curb and called up Burlington’s arson squad and filled them in. Then he called Lancaster and did the same.

“You jumped out of a building?” she said.

“Well, not by choice. It was either that or be quick fried. I wouldn’t recommend either, actually.”

“What the hell is going on, Decker?” she said. “It feels like the whole town is under siege.”

“That’s because I think it is.”

“I’m still filling out forms. I’m starting to regret shooting the guy.”

“I’m heading back with a box of stuff I collected from Katz’s office. I’ll meet you at the station.”

Decker hefted the box and looked at the ladders and hoses and men combatting the fire. He set off down the street, climbed into his car, and drove to the police station.

Decker met Lancaster inside. He followed her into the same small conference room, set the box on the table, cut away the bubble wrap, and opened it. He handed Lancaster a stack of stuff and put another stack in front of himself.

“Her laptop wasn’t there. I think whoever searched her office took it. Or maybe she has it somewhere else. When she comes out of surgery and regains consciousness, we can ask her.”

Lancaster looked at him doubtfully. “You think she’s going to cooperate?”

“Considering somebody just tried to kill her, what choice does she have?”

“You might be surprised.”

“Well, life is just full of surprises. That’s why we play the game.” He turned his attention to the stack in front of him. Financial documents, construction plans, Excel spreadsheets.

“She had a lot of business going on,” commented Lancaster as she started going over her set of files.

“Did you have any luck running down any of her backers?”

“Not really. But we did find out that they were shell companies for the most part with locations in countries where they believe transparency is a bad word.”

“I wonder why that is.”

“It would seem that her financial backers don’t want to be publicly known. But they might still be legit.”

“And I might be short and skinny,” said Decker. “Is there any way we can find out who’s behind those companies?”

“How about your people at the FBI?”

“I’m not sure they’re my people anymore.”

“Then you’re stuck with the resources of a small-town police force.”

“Great.”

Lancaster glanced up. “I heard you shoot when I was coming up the stairs. How’d you get a sightline on the guy?”

“His laser worked against him in that environment. I followed it back to its source thanks to a bunch of dust in the air. Katz was lucky that Melvin knocked her down when he did. I saw the guy’s scope. Sucker was super sophisticated. He could have made that shot from a mile away—”

Lancaster looked up from what she was doing. “What is it? You okay?”

“I’ll be right back,” said Decker, who was not even looking at her. He got up and hustled out of the room.

He hurried down the hall to the evidence room and checked in with the officer manning it. He told the man what he wanted and was let into the cage, where the officer took him over to a shelf against the wall. The officer held up the rifle with the scope still attached. It was in a large plastic evidence bag with the department tag.

Decker looked at the rifle and scope. Then he thought back to the moment it had been used.

He rushed back to the room where Lancaster was.

“What is going on with you?” said Lancaster.

“I wasn’t the target, Mary, that night outside McArthur Park.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sally Brimmer was.”