An Inner Fire (33 page)

“Drop it, Davis. That’s an order.”

Davis stepped closer to the desk. “Why? I’ve got the time.”

“Just leave Benson’s death the fuck alone.” Maclean shoved his chair back and stood up. “And since you’ve got time, I’ve got a job for you. Show up for Ladder Seven’s technical rescue tomorrow on the Space Needle. Bill Summerton’s wife went into labor.”

Maclean leaned over his desk. “Whit recommended you. Heard you’re quite the mountain man. This will give you a chance to prove it.”

The tiny hairs lifted on Davis’ neck. “What time?”

“The schedule is posted. You’ll be in the second group. I’ll need you to dangle from the Space Needle.”

Maclean’s smirk was in his voice. The bastard was hoping to scare him.

“I’ll be there.”

“And Davis, drop the wharf fire. Let the insurance company waste their money trying to figure it out.”

Davis turned and walked out. Frustration surged through him. His bluff to identify Maclean on the DVR tapes had failed. He didn’t have access to the security tapes or the police reports. Maclean did.

He doubted the boys downtown would share their investigation. Damn turf wars between the FI’s and the police.

Maclean wouldn’t try to harm him on the Space Needle in front of the entire crew of Ladder Seven. Or would he?

* * *

Davis needed to put some distance between himself and headquarters. He raced down the steps, wanting to move, to shake the bad feeling about the department’s traitor.

Grayce had accused him of delusions of invincibility. If only she could see him now, in deep shit and nowhere to turn. The department had no guidelines for accusing a superior of heinous crimes.

He would need to confide in the chief that his close friend and colleague had ties to the mob and might be a murderer. But he had no smoking gun to link Maclean to Benson. And no proof that Maclean had ties with the Russians.

If he spoke with the chief, he would precipitate an investigation by the feds with no loyalty to the department. He could see the media circus if there was a federal investigation of the fire department.

The rain had intensified since he left his office. Head down, he walked straight into someone. He felt the give of a plump body and heard a whoosh of exhaled breath.

“Davis, what the hell? Are you still in a bad mood about the Huskies’ loss? Or should I say slaughter?”

Niles hovered over Davis. The tall Dane made Davis’ six foot two inches feel short. As the biggest man in the department, Niles was also the softest. His round face, although lined, glowed with the exuberance of a puppy.

Davis’ feelings of paranoia grew when he looked up at headquarters. “Don’t remind me of the Huskies.” He shook his head. “It’s worse than the damn football game. There’s someone dirty in the department.”

Nothing registered on Niles’ face when Davis blurted the shocking allegation. As the chaplain, Niles must be immune to bad news.

“Let’s get out of the rain.” Niles pointed to their coffee shop across Jackson. “You look like you could do with some java. If you’re going to accuse someone in the department, you’re going to need an ally.”

* * *

Niles folded his oversized body into a beat up chair. He put half of a glazed doughnut into his mouth. He spoke while chewing, “Best doughnut in town.”

“You eat too many of those and you might have to start working out.” Davis tried to lighten the serious mood. He regretted his outburst and wished he could escape Niles’ grave looks.

“What’s this about someone being dirty?” Niles wiped his hands on the napkin.

Davis damned his impulse to confide in the chaplain. Now, he was trapped.

Niles’ round face was filled with concern, his familiar calm voice reassuring. “You can trust me.”

“I’m not one for conspiracy theories, but a higher-up may be involved in arson for hire. There may be a connection between the wharf fire and the Russian mob’s drug trafficking. Once I bring in the feds about the drugs, I lose all control of the investigation. I’m trying to find evidence to take to the chief before the feds take over and it becomes a bloody mess.”

Niles kept his eyes trained on him. “What made you suspect someone in the department?”

“A friend was suspicious and alerted me to the possible connections with the brass.”

“A friend in the department?” Niles asked.

“No. Someone outside.”

Niles shook his head. “I can’t imagine anyone outside understands how we work.”

Davis felt defensive when Niles put it that way. Davis gripped his thighs. He sat forward. “She’s very insightful.”

“She? Meaning Grayce Walters?”

He hadn’t planned to mention Grayce, but if he couldn’t trust the chaplain, who could he trust? He couldn’t grasp why he was hesitant to talk with Niles. He needed to bounce his ideas off of someone in the department, someone who understood the taboo about raising the possibility of a traitor.

“She doesn’t know anyone in the department, does she?” Niles asked.

“She met him at the party. I don’t know what alerted her, but she followed him to a Casino.”

“A witness followed one of our officers?”

He had the same shocked reaction as Niles when Grayce described following Maclean. He still didn’t understand why she had followed him.

“Our man has a gambling problem, might be bartering his skills for his debts.”

“Does Grayce work as an investigator? I thought she was a vet.”

“She went off and followed…” Davis almost slipped and said Maclean’s name.

Davis told Niles about the threats against Grayce and his suspicions about Benson’s death. He hadn’t planned to replay Grayce’s close brush with death or his failure to protect her. He felt better recounting the entire case. Niles was a good listener with his quiet acceptance.

“You’re sure you haven’t been watching too many crime shows?”

“If you’re giving me shit, just think what the chief’s reaction will be?”

“What are you planning, Davis?”

“I need evidence to link the brass to the wharf fire and Benson’s death.”

Niles lowered his voice, “This is serious business.”

Davis took a gulp of his coffee.

“What about Grayce?” Niles asked.

“What about her?”

“Is she still investigating?”

“Grayce better not be involved.” Davis couldn’t control the surge of anger slipping into his voice, his body. He didn’t want Grayce near the Russian mob. They were ruthless. “Today, I confronted the brass. I tried to refocus the heat on me.”

“You’re playing a treacherous game.” Niles’ eyes darted back and forth, searching each person who walked into the coffee shop.

Niles’ sudden apprehension made Davis tense. His gut clenched around the doughnut he had eaten. Niles didn’t offer his usual encouragement for Davis’ plan. Everyone seemed different today, or were his suspicions making him doubt everyone? “If anything happens to me…”

“Davis, nothing is going to happen to you. You need to rethink this before you make any accusations.”

Davis had made a mistake, confiding in his friend. This wasn’t the time for re-thinking. It was the time for action. He needed to get the evidence. “I’m not planning to accuse anyone until I have real evidence.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay out of it, Niles.”

“But…”

Davis shook his head. “If I’m wrong, what then? If I’m right, I think my man will show himself tomorrow. I’m assigned to assist in a technical practice, he’ll be there.”

Niles let out a slow whistle and shook his head.

Davis stood to leave. “Whit, on Ladder Seven, is a mountain-climbing friend. He’ll watch my back.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

The cars in front of Grayce snaked slowly down Mercer Street. Like in her nightmare, she couldn’t reach Davis, couldn’t warn him. She swallowed hard against the panic gripping her throat and stomach, twisting them into tangled knots.

She had gone to Davis’ office to return Mitzi as they had agreed, but hoped for the chance to talk with him. He wasn’t in his office but had gone to the Space Needle to practice a technical rescue. Why would a fire investigator be part of a rescue exercise on the Space Needle?

He wasn’t answering his cell phone and, according to the office assistant, he had left for the Space Needle an hour ago and Assistant Chief Maclean was in charge of the drill. She was living her nightmare.

Mitzi, on alert, her head and eyes pointed straight ahead, sat next to Grayce in the passenger seat.

Waiting in line to cross the bridge under repair, Grayce dialed her cell phone. “James…pick up…”

The phone continued to ring.

“Darlin’, I’m in the middle of waxing my legs, I’ll call you later.”

“James, meet me at the Space Needle.”

No response. Had she lost service? Then she heard James’ throaty chuckle. “Is this a surprise party? It’s not my birthday…”

“James, this isn’t a joke.”

“I can’t meet you. I need all day to get ready for Gay Bingo.”

“Maclean has lured Davis to the Needle. He’s in danger.”

“But, Darlin’, Tony is here and we’re testing my make-up with my new fabulous wig. We’re on the final touches.”

“Forget Gay Bingo.” She didn’t mean to shout, but she was wound tight.

“But…”

“You have to help me. Davis could die.”

“All right, all right. LaBete is on her way.”

“Call me when you get there.”

Grayce drove faster than she should’ve down Westlake. The fear that she might be too late pressed against her diaphragm, making it hard to catch her breath. As if sensing her panic, Mitzi licked Grayce’s face, trying to soothe her.

“We’ll save him, Mitzi.”

* * *

Grayce and Mitzi ran between the long lines of tour busses to the Space Needle’s visitor’s entrance. Chinese tourists filled the entire waiting area. Rapid-fire Mandarin echoed throughout the cavernous space as if she were in Beijing.

She couldn’t see where the line to the elevator began. Squaring her shoulders, she started toward the elevator. No one responded to her gentle nudges. She pushed Beijing style, using elbows, shoulders, hands. Smiling and nodding, she made her way to the front of the line-queue Kung Fu.

Sweat beaded on her neck under her ponytail. She had worn her business suit and Jimmy Choos as a gentle reminder to Davis that she was a highly-regarded scientist. It was part of her plan for when she revealed her non-scientific abilities to Davis. This was her strategy before she discovered that Davis was on the Space Needle. Her professional image would work to her advantage. The burly security guard, earpiece in place, towered over everyone.

“Excuse me. I’m Dr. Grayce Walters. I’m part of the fire department’s rescue team. Can you direct me to the area where I’m to join the fire department?”

The hefty man inspected her and Mitzi. “Assistant Chief Maclean didn’t say anything about a dog.”

“Mitzi works with Ladder Seven. She’s a rescue dog. He may not have thought to mention her.”

The guard scanned the crowd like a Doberman; his eyes darted back and forth.

“I need to get up there. Assistant Chief Maclean isn’t going to be happy that we’re late,” she said in her most authoritative voice.

A rush of tourists pressed from behind when the elevator door opened. The security guard stepped between her and the tourists. He walked the few steps to the elevator and spoke with the operator. “Take Dr. Walters to the mezzanine level. She’s joining the fire department.”

She and Mitzi walked to the back of the elevator. She had no interest in the view from the glass doors. The tourists filled the elevator, taking pictures of Seattle Center and Queen Anne Hill from their cell phones. She caught a glimpse of the security guard on a walkie-talkie.

The elevator lurched and so did her stomach. She hated heights and had no need to watch their ascent. She closed her eyes. “Mezzanine level, ma’am.” A path opened between the sea of tourists. Assistant Chief Maclean stood waiting.

“Dr. Walters and Mitzi, what a pleasant surprise.”

Maclean stepped forward and grasped her by the elbow. His face was expressionless, but his fingers dug into her elbow.

Mitzi’s low growl was in rhythm with the low rumble of the elevator.

“You’re part of the department’s rescue team? How convenient.” He dragged Grayce along the corridor.

Mitzi continued her low grumble and pulled on her lead toward Maclean.

“Keep that mongrel away from me, or you’ll regret it.”

Grayce pulled Mitzi closer.

“Why in the hell are you here?”

“Where’s Davis?” She asked.

“A little desperate, following your boyfriend to his job?”

Panic rippled through her body, making her shaky. “I need to see him.”

Maclean’s laugh echoed down the narrow hallway. “This is a rescue. No one is allowed to waltz up here. Either you can take the elevator down or wait for him in the mechanical room. What will it be, Dr. Walters?”