Page 99 of The Night Belongs To Fireman

Stop that, she ordered herself. No need for panic. Focus on getting your ass to the Refuge.

Dusk was creeping in by the time she reached the big iron-work gates of the Refuge. Even though San Gabriel was a smallish city, it had rush hour traffic like anywhere else. Never had the crawl across town been so torturous. She couldn’t help sneaking glances at the people in the cars next to her, wondering if anyone was going to try to cut her off and ram into her or drop a construction crane on her. But she saw nothing more than the occasional rude gesture in an intersection.

For once, she welcomed the sight of the ugly cement block walls topped with barbed wire that surrounded the Refuge. She pressed the button to alert the security guard, and turned her face toward the video camera. Unlike most video cameras, this one was her friend. This camera wouldn’t allow any unwelcome visitors to enter her Refuge. When the gate had opened all the way, she drove in, more quickly than usual, checking her rearview mirror to make sure no one snuck in after her.

All clear.

She heaved a huge sigh of relief as she made her way down the driveway. Maybe it had all been a false alarm. Maybe someone from BEAST had unearthed the “To be continued” tidbit, even though it had never been released to the media. Maybe they were trying to spook her because they hadn’t gotten what they wanted out of her interview with Melissa.

She caught sight of someone leaving the security shack and making his way toward her car. Must be Mick, who had the kind of physique she found very reassuring at the moment. Wide, brawny shoulders, a bit of a paunch to his belly, a no-nonsense stride. The kind of man you wanted on your side in a situation like this. After pulling into her usual parking spot, she jumped out. Not wanting to take the time to put Greta on her leash, she signaled her to stay put inside the Saab, and closed the door.

“Hi Mick. I’m really glad you’re still here. Did Marsden call you? We have a potential emergency on our hands.”

“Mick’s checking the perimeter,” the man answered. “I’m Officer Lee with the San Gabriel PD. I was here earlier, left my card.”

Embarrassed, she peered at him. Of course it wasn’t Mick; Mick had a good thirty pounds on this policeman. “Oh. Right. Sorry, I was going to call you back, but—”

“Mick called me in, said you had an emergency.”

“Yes, um …” Rachel hesitated. The man wore a San Gabriel PD uniform, but should she ask to see a badge anyway? Before she could do so, he handed it to her.

“You should always ask,” he told her. “Lots of crazies out there.”

It was definitely a real SGPD badge. Relieved, she handed it back. “Thank you. And I’m glad you’re here. I need someone to check out this bumper sticker on my car. Maybe dust it for fingerprints. It would be great if we could figure out where it came from.”

He came closer, playing his flashlight over the door of the car. “Funny thing for a bumper sticker to say. Sounds like a comic book.”

“Yeah, well, it would have to be one of those scary comic books where people die gruesomely.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, you don’t need to know the whole story. It’s basically a warning. A warning I intend to take very seriously. Did Mick secure the grounds?”

“He did.”

“Whew. I don’t mind saying I was a little scared out there. I almost didn’t get back in my car.”

“That would have been smart.”

“What?” She peered at him, confused. “You mean it wouldn’t have been?”

He said nothing, walking around the car as if looking for something else unusual. Kneeling down, he plucked a small black object from the undercarriage.

“Oh my God.” Without him saying a word, she knew what the object must be. A tracking device. Panic fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird.

“They know I’m here. I mean he. I assume it’s a he, but I don’t really know anything for sure. Except we’re not safe here. You’re right, I shouldn’t have gotten back in my car. If they could put a bumper sticker on it, why not a tracking device?”

She was babbling, damn it.

“Relax. I’m not worried,” Officer Lee told her. He lifted the tracking device high overhead and smashed it to the ground, then crunched it under his foot. The sudden violence of the act made Rachel shy away. “No one can get in here, I made sure of that.”

She couldn’t drag her gaze away from the shattered object on the ground. “Don’t you think we should save that tracker as evidence?”

He shrugged, his wide shoulders shifting in the shadows. It was nearly full dark by now, the blackness of the night concentrated under the trees just outside the fence, then graduating to a deep violet overhead. “No need.”

“But … why not? There could have been fingerprints on it.”

“Probably were.”

Confusion flashed through her, following by a sense of horror, the threat of knowledge her mind refused to accept. She was missing something. Something so obvious. And yet she was rooted to the ground. Unable to move, unable to react. “What …” She stopped. Unable to speak.

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