Page 44 of Fear of Flames
“Like I said, I’m not taking the fall for your incompetence. Listen to me.”
Ralph clenched his teeth. He felt his circulation heat as crimson filled his neck and cheeks. “Rick, I’ll call you when I have news. Until then, shut the fuck up.”
“Do you know what I could do to your department or more specifically, take away from it? Federal funding goes through the appropriations committee. And that’s a light punishment. If you upset those above me, it could be worse.”
Ralph’s knuckles blanched as he gripped the receiver tighter. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just threaten me. You’re going to pretend everything is going as planned.” With that he slammed the receiver on the base.
Hanging up on someone was more satisfying with a good old-fashioned landline. Hitting a red button wasn’t near as fulfilling.
Ralph pulled his private phone from his pocket and brought the screen to life. Three missed calls from Rick Lehman—not twenty. No calls or text messages from Deputy Wilcox. Matt Wilcox had been with the Iron Falls Sheriff’s Department for nearly ten years. He understood the way things worked. Ralph trusted him with special duties—those off the books. He sent Wilcox to Indianapolis Monday morning on a plane out of Boston, even before the report of the stolen snowmobile. The assignment Wilcox was on wouldn’t appear in any official documentation.
Lehman was a hot-headed asshole. Calling Ralph on his office phone was reckless. Of course, it would have been avoided if Ralph had simply answered his earlier calls.
Pouring himself another cup of Britney’s coffee, Ralph went to the window in his office and stared down the three stories to the courthouse lawn. The bright sunshine combined with the snow was blinding. The snowstorm the night in question left over fourteen new inches of accumulation. The sidewalks and streets were clear and wet.
The last seventy-two hours ran through his brain. Rick was right that Ralph fucked up. If he’d known Shelly was with her father, executing the plan could have waited. It couldn’t have waited long. Denny was up to something. According to Lehman’s contact, the IP geolocator or whatever was never wrong.
This side gig was too lucrative to lose, after Ralph’s financial woes. It was the answer to his problems. What concerned Ralph the most was that the people above Rick didn’t give a fuck who they eliminated. If he didn’t get Shelly, he could end up like Denny.
Denny was a retired cop with too much time on his hands. He shouldn’t have stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.
A knock on the door brought Ralph back to the present. “Who is it?”
Deputy Tom Skiles appeared as the door opened, his forehead wrinkled, and eyes opened wide. “Have you seen the news out of Indianapolis?”
“Come in, Deputy.” Ralph narrowed his eyes. “What news?”
Tom lifted his phone, showing Ralph the screen. “House explosion.”
“What?” Ralph grabbed the phone. “What the hell?” He quickly scrolled through the news article.
* * *
Massive explosion rocks Indianapolis, Indiana, suburb. At 5:18 a.m., residents in this neighborhood on Indianapolis’s South Side were awakened by a loud blast. One home was destroyed. Witnesses say it sounded as if a bomb went off. Two nearby homes were damaged by debris. No injuries in the neighboring homes. At this time, it isn’t known if the resident was present at the time of the explosion. No names will be released until family members are contacted. This is an active investigation and ongoing story. WTHR will update the story when more facts become available.
* * *
“Tell me it’s not Shelly’s house.”
Tom nodded soberly. “I confirmed the address with IMPD.” He lowered his tone. “What the hell was Matt thinking? He was supposed to go in and get her. Nothing to bring attention to her disappearance.” He grasped Ralph’s arm. “This is getting out of hand.”
Ralph looked down at Tom’s hand and back up, sending a wordless threat from his dark orbs.
Slowly, Tom released the sheriff.
“Rick has already chewed my ass this morning. I haven’t heard from Wilcox and now this shit.” Ralph threw Tom’s phone onto the worn leather couch piled high with case files.
“When did you last speak with Matt?” Tom asked.
Ralph found his phone where he’d left it on his desk and scrolled his recent calls and text messages. “I spoke to him at one this morning, after I got the call from IMPD. He said he’d staked out her house all day and didn’t see anyone. He said he’d go over to see if things changed.” Ralph inhaled and met Tom’s gaze. “I told him to make an extraction. Not to set off any alarms.”
“He fucking blew up her house,” Tom said in an angry whisper. “That’s a mighty loud alarm.”
“At 3:47 a.m.,” Ralph said, “he sent a text saying he was going in.”
Tom shook his head. “Why blow up the house an hour and a half later? He should have been on his way back here.”
Ralph’s cell phone vibrated. “It’s Matt.” He hit the green button. “What the fuck happened?”
