Page 34 of The Finding Series: Vol. 1

Rhys shook his head in disbelief, but couldn’t find the words to ask the obvious question.

“How?” Callan asked for him.

“ME’s report says self-inflicted gunshot wound,” Jaxon said.

“Bullshit,” Rhys heard himself saying. “Fucker was too in love with himself to blow his brains out.”

“I said that was what was in the ME’s report,” Jaxon said with the faintest hint of a smile. A chill went through Rhys as he realized what the man wasn’t saying. Jesus, was he standing in front of the man who’d done what Rhys had dreamed of doing for so long?

“Was it you?” Rhys asked without preamble.

Jaxon studied him for a long time, then turned and opened his car door. He handed Rhys a manila envelope. “Give that to your attorney.”

“What is it?” Rhys asked as he opened the envelope, though he didn’t need an answer once he saw what was on the pages that spilled out into his hand. A CD slipped out too.

“Rhys?” Callan asked as he examined the pages.

“Money transfers, transcripts of wire taps, surveillance,” Rhys said in awe as he flipped through the pages. He stopped when he saw his name on one of the transcripts. “They caught him on tape admitting to stealing the location of the safe house from me,” he whispered as the truth hit him. Was it really going to be this easy? He looked up at Jaxon. “How did you get this?”

The man again evaded his question and said, “The DA that prosecuted you has already started the processing of having the charges dismissed, but you should still have an attorney take a look at those. I think you’re looking at a pretty hefty settlement from the city of Chicago. They’re not going to like having to explain to the public why they sent an innocent cop to jail.”

Rhys looked up at Callan and smiled. “It’s over, Callan. It’s really over.” An overwhelming sense of relief flooded through his body as Callan pulled him into his arms. He didn’t give a shit that the other man was watching as he kissed Callan hard.

The sound of several neighing horses had Callan tensing in his arms, then suddenly releasing him as the noise from the barn grew. Callan was already running toward the barn when the scent of smoke filled Rhys’ nostrils. “Oh God,” he said as he took off after Callan.

“Wendy!” he heard Callan shout as he neared the barn. Black smoke started to billow between the slats of the wooden roof as the sound of panicked horses filled the air. Rhys’ heart stopped as Callan raced into the barn. He felt Jaxon right on his heels and they both reached the building just as flames began ripping through the ceiling. The hayloft.

“Callan!” Rhys shouted as he tried to see through the thick, black smoke that was drifting down from the ceiling.

“I’ve got her!” Callan shouted and Rhys felt a punch of relief as Callan carried Wendy past him. Blood trickled from an injury on her forehead.

The sound of terrified horses over the roar of flames had Rhys racing into the barn. He heard Callan screaming his name, but ignored him and tore open the first stall door. West flew past him the second he opened the door and he saw that Jaxon had managed to free Kirby from the opposite stall. Getting Callan’s gelding and two more horses out took only seconds, but the rescue horse clung to the back of its stall and refused to budge. Rhys’ eyes burned as he shouted at the horse, but it just reared up and slammed its body into the back of the stall as if trying to break through it. Flames rolled over his head and he heard wood cracking as the support beams started to weaken. He guessed that he had less than a minute before the roof came crashing down.

“Rhys! We have to get out now!” Jaxon shouted from somewhere on the other side of the barn. Rhys glanced at the barn doors which were both nearly obliterated from the black cloud of smoke that plunged the barn into darkness. Decision made, Rhys rushed into the stall and waved his arms at the huge horse. The panicked animal lunged at him, then slammed into him with its huge body as it raced past him. He hit the floor hard and sucked in a mouthful of smoke, then started choking.

“Rhys!”

“Here!” he shouted, then strong arms were lifting him. Callan.

He felt himself being half lifted, half dragged as another set of hands grabbed him and Callan and Jaxon pulled him out the door. The oxygen burned his lungs as it mixed with smoke.

“Jesus,” Callan said as he clung to Rhys. “You fucking son of a bitch!” he snarled as he clutched Rhys to him. Then his voice softened, the words so quiet among the popping, crackling sounds of the fire that Rhys barely heard them. “God, I thought I’d lost you.”

* * *

Callan couldn’t hold on to Rhys tight enough. He’d watched as horse after horse had come flying through the doors, but no Rhys. Jaxon had managed to get out, but hadn’t hesitated to go back in with Callan when they realized Rhys was still in the burning building. Pieces of the roof had started to fall around them as embers rained down on their shoulders and lit up the hay that was strewn around the aisle and stalls. They’d managed to get Rhys to his feet, but the back door was engulfed in flames so they’d had to work their way back to the front of the barn.

“I’m okay,” he heard Rhys say against his chest, his voice hoarse from the smoke. “Is Wendy okay?” he asked.

“Callan!” he heard Jaxon calling out to him. The man was kneeling next to Wendy, examining the gash on her head. “She’s waking up.”

Callan helped Rhys to his feet and then hurried over to Wendy’s side. “Wendy, honey, can you hear me?”

The sound of an approaching vehicle had them all looking up as a black SUV tore up the driveway. It screeched to a stop at the point where the driveway widened. Dane climbed out of the driver’s side and hurried around the front, a black bag in his hand. He ran straight for Wendy.

Finn clambered out of the passenger side, his wide eyes taking in the barn, then finally finding them and Callan saw the relief flood through him.

“Finn, can you get Emma?” Dane shouted and Callan could see Finn was torn between getting to their sides and getting the baby.

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