Page 103 of Not A Whisper

Trip gives me a hard look before he nods. He kneels beside Josh, and he and Cory lift the unconscious man. I follow behind the two of them as they carry Josh’s body around the burning building. In the front, two fire trucks have already pulled up. An ambulance is peeling down the road, lights and siren on full blast. Behind it, are two cop cars. Firefighters are moving around in coordinated chaos. Someone is barking orders, and a hose is unraveling.

“Hey!” Trip bellows. “We need some help here!”

Suddenly there’s a flurry of activity around us. Josh is carted away into the ambulance while Cory and I are checked over by another set of EMTs. While my hand is being tended to, a police officer comes over and takes my statement.

The officer’s in his sixties, probably close to retirement. Given the bored look on his pudgy face, this isn’t the first arson he’s had to deal with. He ignores me as he takes his time flipping through his notepad for a fresh piece of paper. The clacking ofhis gum is loud and obnoxious. When he’s found paper to write on, he pats himself down looking for a pen. He finds one and clicks it open.

“Alright, ma’am. Let’s start from the beginning.” He blows a large bubble. When it pops, he drags the deflated pink material back between his lips. “Let’s start with your name.”

Wincing through the rawness of my throat, I croak out. “Briella Wilson.”

“Hm.” He scribbles my answer down. “What was your business here today, Miss?—”

“Actually, it’sMrs.Briella Wilson-Gipson,” Trip corrects sharply from beside me.

The police officer blinks rapidly in surprise. His eyes flicker from Trip back to me. Under the graying scruff, his cheeks pale.

“Gipson? As in?—”

“The Gipson Family, you know Groveton’sroyalty,” Trip offers up between clenched teeth. “Yeah, she belongs tothatGipson family.”

The police officer, whose last name reads O’Neil, sputters before he clears his throat and straightens his spine.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize who I was talking to,” he apologizes, life flickering behind those eyes now.

Does it matter who you’re talking to?

I give him a tight smile. “My marriage to Grant is a new thing. I’m still getting used to the name change.”

The police officer gapes for a full thirty seconds before closing his mouth and swallowing hard. When it opens again, his expression shifts to determination. “We’ll doeverythingin our power to find out who was behind this, Mrs. Gipson. You’ll get to face the person behind this in court soon.”

I blink in surprise before looking over at Trip. Pale and trembling with unbridled fury, he looks like he’s considering murder. Apparently, he’s noticed the sudden turnaround in theofficer too. To avoid that, I decide to get back to the issue at hand.

Turning to O’Neil, I offer up, “I got the license plate of the people responsible for the fire.”

By the timeTrip and I are alone, all that’s left of his and his father’s company is charred remains. I stand there, leaning against the side of my car, staring at the remains, while Trip speaks to his dad on the phone. He paces back and forth a few feet away by the back of my car, but I can feel his gaze caress my face every once in a while.

Now that the adrenaline has worn off and we’re safe, I feel utterly drained.

On top of everything, someone decided to slash my tires. It had to have been the guy who set the place on the fire. Did he circle back around? A shiver runs down my back. Did he come back while I was inside to see if I’d stuck around? If so, why?

Thanks to Trip, I have four new tires coming to my apartment within the next few days, with the promise that he’ll change them for me. It’s a sweet gesture, especially since he has his own mess to deal with.

“—yeah, I know. Dad, Iknow. Cops are gonna pull the security footage and Bri managed to grab the license plate of the SUV, so that should help us catch the guy.” He stops and listens to whatever Carlos has to say. Whatever it is causes Trip to sigh.

Trying to be quiet about it, I cough. My throat feels as charred as the building in front of us. Actually, my whole body feels that way. Thankfully, after a thorough examination by the EMTs, I’ve been declared ok. The burn on my hand, though, was a cause of concern. It took me nearlywalking away before the EMTs conceded to treating me here rather than taking me to the hospital. Wrapped tight and slathered with ointment, I hold my injured hand close to my chest.

Trip’s voice grows a little louder before dropping back to a normal volume.

I can’t imagine the stress he and Carlos are both under now. Carlos built his company from the ground up and planned to hand it over to his son. I bet he never dreamed that they’d both walk away with nothing. All that hard work down the drain. My heart sinks.

“Alright, I’ll call you later or tomorrow.”

Trip’s voice snaps me out of my depressing thoughts.

I look over to watch him hang up and shove his phone in his pocket. He doesn’t look at where his business once stood. Instead, he stomps over to me.

“I have another water bottle in the van.” He shakes his head with annoyance as he stops beside me. “I can’t believe you ran into a fucking burning building.”

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