Take the Key and Lock Her Up (32 page)

Devlin didn’t have time to check for a pulse or give CPR. He had to get Austin out,
now, or they’d both die in here. He couldn’t see the window anymore. Thick smoke and
flames from the walls obscured everything. Even practically lying on the floor to
get beneath the smoke, he could barely breath. The faint sound of sirens sounded from
somewhere outside.

“We’re—” He coughed violently and tried again, to let Pierce know to blast the extinguisher
inside the room. “We’re coming out!”

A tiny hiss sounded from the window. “My extinguisher is empty!” Pierce yelled.

Damn it
. Devlin grabbed the back of Austin’s collar and dragged him behind him as he used
short bursts from his extinguisher to clear the way. When he reached the window, he
handed out Austin’s limp body to Pierce.

He was about to follow Austin out when flames shot up in front of him, blocking the
window and forcing him to back up to the center of the room.

“Devlin!” Pierce yelled from what sounded like far away. “Get out of there!”

Devlin pressed the extinguisher, aiming at the wall of flames in front of him. It
shot a short burst, then fizzled. Empty.

Ah hell.

“Dev!”

Searing heat forced him to the right side of the room. He coughed and fell to the
floor, desperate for some air. The black smoke on this side of the room was so dark
he couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him. He tried to picture Alex’s bedroom
the last time he’d been in it. Alex was fastidious about putting everything where
it belonged. And he always had a blanket neatly folded over the top of the recliner.

He scrambled toward where he thought the recliner might be, coughing and struggling
to breathe. He bumped against it. Yes! The blanket was there.
Thank you, Dad.
He held it up in front of himself, surged to his feet, and made a Hail Mary run toward
the window. Using the blanket like a shield, he vaulted through the opening and dropped
to the ground outside.

“Roll, Dev! You’re on fire!”

As soon as Pierce said it, Devlin’s nerve endings screamed the same message. White-hot
agony raced up the back of his left leg. He rolled back and forth on the ground. Pierce
fell on top of him, smothering the last of the flames with a soaking-wet cloth.

Devlin coughed. The movement rubbed his burned calf against the ground and sent a
fiery burst of pain spiking through him. He arched off the ground, hissing through
his teeth.

“How bad?” Pierce demanded.

Devlin forced a smile. It hurt like a son of a bitch. “I’ll be fine. Where’s your
shirt?”

“I sacrificed it to save your sorry ass. You owe me another one.” He held out his
hand to help Devlin up.

“Where’s Austin? Is he still alive?”

Pierce winced. “Barely. He’s by the pond. Come on.”

The burns on Devlin’s leg throbbed as he ran beside Pierce to the water’s edge. But
his pain was forgotten when he saw his baby brother lying on his back. His upper body
had suffered only minor burns, but the lower half must have practically cooked in
the metal wheelchair. And his legs . . . God, his legs.

They both knelt down beside him.

Devlin checked his pulse; weak. Austin’s chest rose and fell in short bursts, his
breath wheezing like a severe asthmatic in the middle of an attack. “Thank God he’s
unconscious or he’d be in agony.” He frowned and turned Austin’s head. “He’s bleeding.”
He shot a glance at Pierce. “Are you sure Matt and the others are safe?”

“I called three times on the way here,” Pierce said. “Tessa and Madison are both armed
to the teeth. Matt’s got his hands full keeping them from running over here. But they’re
fine.”

Austin moaned, then stiffened.

“We’ve got to get him to the hospital,” Devlin said.

“And once we’re there, you’re going to tell me who did this.”

From the angry, determined look on Pierce’s face, Devlin knew he wouldn’t be able
to lie his way out of this one. He gave his brother a stiff nod, hoping to hold him
off for now.

They debated how to pick Austin up without hurting him, but just as they were about
to try, two EMTs and a fireman hurried around the far corner of the house, pushing
a rolling gurney. Behind them were Lieutenant Drier and Devlin’s least favorite detective,
Tuck.

Devlin slid his holster out of his waistband and chucked it into the pond with his
gun still in it, hoping the weeds and tall grass at the edge of the water had kept
the cops from seeing what he’d done.

Pierce stared at him in shock. “Since when do you carry a gun?”

“I never had a gun.” He nodded toward Drier, still forty feet away.

Pierce looked over his shoulder, then narrowed his eyes. “We need to talk.”

Devlin sighed. “Yeah. I know.” He looked down at his baby brother, his heart seizing
in his chest. “Austin has to make it. He
has
to.”

Pierce’s hands curled into fists. “I’m going to
kill
whoever did this.”

“No,” Devlin said quietly. “I am.”

D
EVLIN AND
P
IERCE
ducked down beneath the rotors of the LifeStar helicopter perched in the field in
front of Alex’s house and followed the EMTs to the chopper’s open door. Tuck, Devlin’s
newly acquired shadow, yelled at him to stay back. Devlin didn’t bother to waste a
glare on the detective. No one was going to stop him from making sure his baby brother
was taken care of.

The EMTs slid the gurney holding Austin into the helicopter and began securing him
for the flight.

“Can a family member accompany him?” Pierce shouted above the whine of the rotors.

One of the EMTs shook his head. “Sorry, no room. You’ll have to follow in your own
vehicle. We’re taking him to the trauma center at Memorial. Once he’s stabilized,
we’ll fly him to the Joseph M. Still Burn Center in Augusta.”

“Is he going to make it?” Devlin shouted.

The grim look on the EMT’s face told Devlin more than he’d wanted to know.

“We have to go, sir. Please step back.”

Pierce pulled Devlin with him up the hill to where Tuck waited.

The pitch of the rotors changed as the helicopter accelerated and lifted off. The
three of them held their hands up to protect their faces from the dust kicked up by
the blades. When the chopper was a speck on the horizon, Pierce and Devlin turned
to check on the rest of their family.

Tuck deliberately stepped in Devlin’s way.

Devlin tensed, ready to knock the smaller man to the ground if he had to in order
to reach Alex and Braedon.

Pierce stepped between the two of them and held his hand out. “I don’t think we’ve
met. I’m Special Agent Pierce Buchanan.”

The tactic worked. Tuck shook Pierce’s hand and introduced himself. By then, Devlin
was halfway up the hill. His burned leg still hurt like the devil and forced him to
go slower than he wanted. It felt like someone was shoving a poker into the back of
his calf every time he took a step.

Since no one was standing by the first ambulance, he wasn’t surprised to see the back
was empty as he hurried past. Emily stood with her boss, about ten feet back from
the second ambulance. Her eyes widened when she saw him, but he didn’t know why.

He rounded the open doors to see Braedon sitting beside an EMT on the right, breathing
into an oxygen mask, while Alex lay unconscious on a gurney on the other side, being
tended by the second EMT for this ambulance. Although Alex didn’t look much better
than when Devlin last saw him, the rise and fall of his chest was reassuring. When
the EMT taking care of him gave Devlin the thumbs-up sign, his shoulders sagged with
relief.

“How are you, Braedon?” Devlin asked.

Braedon pulled his mask off. “I’ll be fine. I doubt I even need to go to the hospital,
but I’ll go so I can be with Alex.”

The EMT put Braedon’s mask back on and received an irritated look in response.

“His oxygen saturation levels are way down,” the EMT said. “He needs to stay on oxygen
and be closely monitored in case his airway becomes inflamed and he has trouble breathing.
He’ll probably have to stay at the hospital overnight.” He motioned toward Alex. “Your
father is doing surprisingly well for someone who had a heart attack.”

Devlin stilled. “There’s no family history of heart disease. He’s only fifty-one.”

The EMT shrugged. “He had no other injuries. Heart disease exacerbated by smoke inhalation
seems the most likely explanation. I’m sure the doctors will run some tests and be
able to tell you more.”

Only if they look for a puncture wound from a needle and run a tox screen.

Devlin’s hands curled into fists. If Ace were standing in front of him right now,
Devlin would tear him apart, limb by limb.

Alex’s eyes were open now. He tugged at his oxygen mask and pointed at Devlin.

“No, sir,” the EMT said. “You can’t talk right now.” He replaced the mask and motioned
to the other EMT. “He’s as stable as I can make him. We need to go.”

Alex’s agitation increased. Devlin was pretty sure he knew why. He leaned in, ignoring
the EMT’s frown, and squeezed Alex’s hand.

“He’s alive, Dad. Austin is alive. He’s on his way to the hospital right now.”

A look of relief swept over Alex’s face as Devlin let go of his hand and moved back
out of the way.

Pierce stepped up beside him. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He supposedly had a heart attack.”

“You’re kidding. He’s fit as a horse.”

Which was why Devlin was so certain this was Ace’s handiwork. It wouldn’t be the first
time an assassin had used drugs to fake a heart attack. And unless a coroner had a
reason to search for an injection site, those kinds of deaths usually passed muster
without raising any suspicions.

“Excuse me, sir.” The EMT who’d been sitting with Braedon was outside the ambulance
now, ready to close the doors, but Devlin and Pierce were in the way.

“Wait,” Pierce said. “I’m going with you.”

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s against hospital—”

Pierce climbed into the back and sat beside Braedon, silently daring the EMT to stop
him.

The EMT aimed a frown at Devlin as if to warn him. “No one else. I could lose my job.”

“Meet us at the hospital,” Pierce called out to Devlin as the other EMT closed the
doors and then jogged to the front. Soon the ambulance was racing down the long driveway.

“Devlin.”

He turned around to see Emily frowning up at him, her brows furrowed with concern.
“You need to sit in the other ambulance and get checked out. Half your hair is singed
off, and I saw you limping earlier.”

He was about to argue when her subtle head shake had him glancing past her to see
Lieutenant Drier and Tuck deep in conversation a few yards away. She obviously wanted
to tell him something and didn’t want the others to hear it.

“I could probably use something for the pain.” Certainly not a lie, but it would have
to be a local anesthetic. He couldn’t risk taking anything that might slow his reaction
times or dull his thinking, not with Ace still out there somewhere, probably close
by.

He and Emily moved to the remaining ambulance and sat in the back with one of the
EMTs for that ambulance. The second EMT was already in the driver’s seat, his image
distorted by the fogged glass that separated the cab from the back.

After the EMT examined Devlin’s scalp, he tried to get him to lie facedown on the
gurney so he could check his burned calf. Devlin insisted on sitting upright but compromised
by lifting his foot onto the opposite seat to elevate it for the EMT.

“Scale of one to ten,” Emily asked, “how much does it hurt?”

“Barely a two, maybe two and a half,” he lied. It was closer to an eight.

The EMT arched a brow. “You must have a high pain threshold. The burns on your scalp
are only first degree, but your calf has second- and third-degree burns. We’ll need
to take you to the hospital for treatment.”

“I don’t have time to—”

Emily put her hand on his knee. “Dev, if you saw yourself in a mirror, you wouldn’t
question that you need to get checked out. Your face looks sunburned. Half your hair
is gone. And third-degree burns are nothing to ignore. Not to mention my boss and
Tuck look like they’re plotting to put you in jail if they can figure out a charge
that will stick. They’re both ticked off that you never gave a statement about the
shooting in the alley. They’ll be over here any minute.”

“Where’s my go bag?” he asked, his voice low.

She aimed a glance at the EMT, who was kneeling on the floor, cutting away the charred
portion of Devlin’s jeans. She lifted her shirt a few inches, revealing a thick pack
of papers hidden underneath, half-shoved into the top of her pants.

Devlin raised a brow and grinned. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Probably.”

The contents of the binder.

He leaned over and squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Em.”

She smiled and looked toward the EMT again. “Drier asked how we got here.” She winked
before continuing. “Of course I told him the truth, that we drove up here with Pierce
in his GTO. When he asked who owned the Charger, I told him I thought it belonged
to one of your brothers’ friends.”

Her quick thinking and willingness to cover for him was a surprise. If Drier ran the
plates on the Charger, he’d find it belonged to one of Devlin’s aliases. That would
have been hard to explain if Drier thought he and Emily had driven the car. But since
there was no legal reason to search a car owned by someone else, Drier wouldn’t find
the burn phones and guns still inside.

Devlin deeply regretted the loss of the guns, but thanks to Emily’s quick thinking,
at least he still had the EXIT documents. Having those go public could have been disastrous.
And it would have hampered his ability to figure out who was holding Kelly. Not that
he’d made any headway on that. Being shot at and having to run into burning buildings
was wreaking havoc on his plans.