Chapter Four

My cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID and inhaled sharply. A piece of tamale got caught in my throat. I clutched my neck and dropped my cell phone. Shit! I couldn't breathe!

Grabbing me from behind, Dad did the Heimlich maneuver until a piece of tamale flew out of my mouth and hit Lucas in the face.

"Sonovabitch," he hollered.

I managed to suck in a lungful of air. Could this day get any worse?

"You okay, kitten?" Dad tilted my head up.

"Thompson. Calling. Me," I gasped. My cell phone stopped ringing.

Dad plopped me back in my chair. "Let's hope he leaves a message." He fished the cell phone out of my half-eaten dinner.

Mom handed him a napkin and watched as he cleaned it off.

"He must have found out you didn't die in the explosion," Julie put in angrily.

His eyes as grim as death, Logan grabbed a laptop off the counter. "It won't take me long to track his cellphone." His fingers flew across the keyboard.

I coughed and coughed and coughed.

"Drink some tea. It'll help, sweetie," Mom urged, rubbing my back.

I took careful swallows.

Sheriff Maxwell's index finger tapped impatiently on the table.

The icon for voicemail appeared on my screen.

Everyone tensed in anticipation. The moron had left a message. Dad typed in my supposedly secret passcode and put the phone on speaker.

"I was once a highly respected team leader of the best SWAT team in the state until you came along. Your filthy lies took everything from me. My job, my pride, and my family. You think you're lucky, don't you bitch?" Thompson growled. "But your luck just ran out. Check your monitors."

On the first security monitor, we watched Thompson give us the one-finger salute and hurl a Molotov cocktail at the front door. Boom! Flames erupted.

At the same time, the second monitor showed a short, bulked-up Hispanic male wearing a white T-shirt, and jeans throwing a Molotov cocktail at the back door. Within seconds fire engulfed the door.

Shit! I erupted to my feet. We were trapped.

The fire alarm began to wail.

Julie pointed at the monitors. "I think Valdez put something under the Sheriff's car too."

Boom! The building shook.

I stared in horror at the monitor. Sheriff Maxwell's patrol car and Dad's new Chev truck were infernos.

"Hey!" Benjamin shouted. "The building's on fire. Get me out of here."

I stuffed my phone in my back pocket and pulled a fire extinguisher off the wall.

"I'll release Benjamin," Frank said, grabbing the keys to the cell.

"The fire department is en route," Dad announced.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

Rage etched into his features, Sheriff Maxwell spat, "Thompson and Valdez are dead men." He took the fire extinguisher from me and started foaming the front door.

"Are we trapped? Are we trapped?" Benjamin shrieked.

Lucas slammed him against the wall. "Yes, we are." He shoved a fire extinguisher into his hands. "Fight the fire or die."

"Okay." Benjamin pulled the pin and squeezed the handle. A stream of foam hit him in the face.

Mom took the extinguisher away from him. "Gotta a death wish, dontcha?"

Logan, Dad and Jacob expertly doused the flames on the walls.

Smoke began to fill the rooms.

"We need help now!" Julie hit the emergency button on her radio and keyed her radio mic, "999."

Now everyone on our frequency would know we were in big trouble and our chances of getting out alive weren't good.

"Charlie-24 state the nature of your emergency," the dispatcher commanded.

Julie's eyes darted nervously around the room. The fire was getting worse. "The substation has been bombed, the exits are on fire, and we are trapped inside." Julie grabbed a bag of face masks from a drawer.

"Copy, Charlie-24," the dispatcher replied a little too calmly and repeated everything Julie had just said.

A jumble of voices shouted their call signs on the radio.

"Charlie-30 and Charlie-34 block off the street," Sergeant Bergman ordered.

Charlie-34 replied, "Blocking Del Rio."

"Shutting down 90 th Avenue," Charlie-30 said in her sex kitten voice.

George-20, show me en route to the substation," Sergeant Bergman advised.

"Copy, George-20."

Dante asked grimly, "Dispatch, has the bomb squad been dispatched?"

"They are being notified now, David-22," the dispatcher answered.

"Copy, show me out at the substation."

Mom yelled, "Sergeant Bergman just pulled up."

Thick, black smoke rolled across the ceiling.

"Here, these will help some," Julie said, handing out KN95 face masks.

The unbelievably hot fire spread from the back door to the walls.

Julie grimaced. "This must be what hell feels like."

Quickly pulling the mask on, I turned on the decontamination shower hose and sprayed everyone except Benjamin who was darting from one side of the room to the other, screaming, "I don't want to die. I don't want to die."

"Shut it," Sheriff Maxwell shouted.

Benjamin kept screaming.

"Shut up, now!" Mom commanded.

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

The fire trucks' sirens cut off abruptly.

Bam! The front door shuddered from a blow.

Bam! "Gemma! Can you hear me?" Dante shouted and kicked the door again.

"Yes! Get us out of here. C'mon. C'mon. It's getting hot in here."

"Back away from the door, detective," a male voice commanded.

Julie hollered "Hey! It's getting hard to breathe!"

The door suddenly shook as the fire department turned their hoses on the substation. The flames died and steam rose from the door.

"Hurry up!" It was like being trapped in an overheated sauna.

Thud! The door was kicked open.

A fireman appeared out of the thick white vapor and motioned to us, "This way."

All of us followed the fireman out the door. Julie and I almost got trampled by Benjamin in his haste to escape.

"If that bastard runs…" Julie doubled over and wheezed like an old lady. "I'm gonna… shoot his sorry ass."

Tripping over a hose, Benjamin slammed into Dante, knocking him to the ground.

"Do not make me chase you down, Benjamin," I rasped.

Did he listen? Hell, no. Wild-eyed, he fled across the parking lot.

Sergeant Bergman straight-armed Benjamin, dropping him to the pavement.

"Thanks." I rolled Benjamin over and cuffed him. "Did you really think you would get very far?"

"I don't want to die! I don't want to die," Benjamin wailed.

Dante hauled him to his feet. "Where do we put him?"

"In the back of my patrol car for now," Sergeant said, opening the backdoor. "The air is still on." His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID. "I've got to take this." Sarge walked over to the meager shade of an orange tree and answered the call.

Dante stuffed Benjamin in the backseat. "Does the sergeant have a girlfriend?"

"Dunno." Sergeant Bergman was a very private person. I had recently found out that he had been a Catholic priest for two years before becoming a cop. Priest to cop, who would have thunk it. I would love to know what triggered the sudden career change.

I was amazed at how fast the fire department extinguished the fire. Sergeant Thompson was going to have a meltdown when he discovered all of us had survived.

"Let's not do this again," Julie groaned.

"Deal."

Benjamin pressed his face against the window. "I need some water."

"So do I, but gee, our bottled water got destroyed in the fire. Deal with it," I spat.

"But I'm so thirsty."

"How about I turn off the air and let you swelter like we are. "Julie pulled at the shirt. "I'm burning up."

Lucas turned the car wash hose on Julie until she was sopping wet. "Better?"

"No." Streaks of black soot running down her face, Julie stomped over to him and pulled her fist back. "You are a grade-A bastard!"

Mom dragged her away. "You can sit in the front seat and cool off." She stuffed Julie inside the car and gave Lucas her death stare.

A giggle escaped me. "The Sarge is gonna be pissed when he notices Julie got sooty water all over his car seat."

"How are you feeling?" Dante pushed wet hair out of my eyes. "You've had a lot to deal with today."

I pulled off my mask. "What can I say? It's a Monday. It's hotter than hell. I got beat up by a bunch of kids. And… and…"

"You came very close to dying today," Dante replied, rubbing my neck.

A sudden chill crawled up my back. "Two times."

"Those jackasses attacked my family and for that they will pay," Mom said way too calmly.

Every inch a predator, Dante nodded. "Yes, they will."

"I need to talk with your father." Mom walked off.

There wasn't a doubt in my mind. The Alpha Dogs were going to war.

Sergeant Bergman's eyes narrowed when he spotted Julie in his front seat. With an exasperated sigh, he stomped over to me. "Why are you wearing camouflage face paint? It doesn't even cover the bruises."

"It's soot and mom's healing cream. Not face paint." I frowned. Why was I suddenly croaking like I was a hundred years old?

Sergeant Bergman gestured at what was left of the substation and demanded, "Do we know who did this?"

"Yes, we do. Sergeant Thompson and his buddy Valdez were caught on tape throwing the Molotov cocktails and he was kind enough to leave me a threatening message too," I replied.

Rage flared in Sergeant Bergman's eyes. "And the car bomb?"

"We didn't see them plant it. We'll have to check the security tapes," I answered.

Sergent Bergman's left eye twitched. "If they weren't destroyed by the fire."

"I'm pretty sure Logan saved everything to the Cloud. Why don't you ask him."

Nodding, Sergeant Bergman stalked over to where my red-eyed and soot-covered family had gathered.

Sheriff Maxwell shook the fire captain's hand and followed Sergeant Bergman.

Dante pulled out a handkerchief and gently cleaned my face. "A minor scuffle, huh?"

"Yep." I coughed up a lung.

An ambulance pulled into the parking lot.

"Let's get you checked out." Dante motioned at the paramedics and urged me over to them.

I quickly surveyed the parking lot. Frank's personal car had some damage, but Julie's Ford and my Sonata looked okay. "I'm not going to the hospital. It's just too dangerous."

Dante's eyebrows rose. "Is it?"

"Yeah, look at how many times I've been attacked there," I shot back.

"If the paramedics think you need to go to the emergency room, you're going," Dante said firmly.

"I'm fine." I broke into a coughing fit. "Really."

Dante cocked his head in obvious disbelief. "No, you're not fine."

My shoulders drooped. "With my battered face, we might have to drop out of the dance competition this weekend."

"It's a bit early for the Day of the Dead, but we'll make do with the day of the ghouls."

"Ghouls, huh?" It would work.

Dante kissed the tip of my nose. "The perfect disguise."

"Have I told you how much I love you?"

His white teeth flashed in a devastating smile. "Not today."

"Well, I do." God, I loved his dimples.

Dante pulled Julie out of the patrol car. "C'mon, you're getting checked out too."

"I'm not going to the hospital. Bad things happen there," Julie stated.

Dante urged us over to the waiting paramedics and sat us on a gurney. "Both of them inhaled a lot of smoke, Jerry."

"I'm good." Right on cue, another coughing fit hit me.

Jerry pulled the stethoscope off his neck. "Martha, check Deputy Garza's breathing."

"Yes, sir."

To my annoyance, Martha kept staring at Dante like he was prime rib at an all-you-can-eat banquet. I gave her the stink eye, but the bitch didn't even notice.

"Let's have a listen." Jerry placed his scope on my back. "Deep breath."

I took a deep breath. My anger grew when Martha made no effort to help Julie.

"Deep breath," Jerry ordered again.

Julie grabbed Martha's face, leaving big black streaks on her cheeks. "Help me." Coughing like she was trying to hack up a hairball, Julie managed to get soot all over Martha's arms and clothing.

"What are you doing? Let go of me," Martha gasped.

Wrapping her arms around Martha, Julie moaned, "Can't breathe. Need oxygen."

"Fine." Martha broke free, grabbed an oxygen bottle out of the ambulance and shoved the mask over Julie's face. "Better?"

Julie stared at her for a long moment, then nodded.

I knew that look. Down the road, Martha was going to get a very expensive speeding ticket.

Martha quickly turned her attention to Dante. "I'll be happy to check you over too."

"Not necessary. I wasn't in the building." Totally oblivious to the fact she was flirting with him, Dante's gaze was fixed on Sergeant Bergman, Sheriff Maxwell and my family as they examined the remains of their cars. "I'll be right back, Gemma."

"Sure thing, sugar."

Dante hurried off.

"Your lungs are a bit irritated from the smoke, but they're clear. If you're still coughing tomorrow, see your family doctor," Jerry advised.

"Will do. Can you check my mother over too? She's just getting over a cold."

"I'll be happy to." Jerry picked up his kit. "Let's go Martha. Gemma has five brothers for you to hit on."

A big smile on her face, Martha trotted after him.

More ambulances arrived, along with a horde of cops from several jurisdictions and the press.

After several reporters yelled questions at us, Julie and I retreated to Sergeant Bergman's patrol car and watched the circus.

"Where's my water?" Benjamin asked.

"Dunno."

"I'd kill for a big glass of iced tea," Julie sighed.

"Me too."

Sergeant Bergman motioned to us.

"I guess we had better see what he wants," I said.

We hurried over to him. "Yes, sir?"

"We are moving our substation to your family's training center until we can find a new facility."

"That's a great idea. Our security is the best."

Julie frowned when Benjamin banged his head on the window. "What do we do with our prisoner?"

"Once he has been checked out by the paramedics transport him to the ranch and put him in one of the holding cells until we get this mess sorted out. Your mother and Logan will work on locating Thompson and Valdez."

"What about our vehicles?" I asked.

"After they've been checked for bombs, your brothers will start moving them to the ranch."

"Gotcha."

"Be very careful. Thompson placed a bomb under Lieutenant Gaston's car. He's in critical condition," Sergeant Bergman said grimly.

"Oh, my God, "Julie gasped.

Horror roiled my stomach. "But Lieutenant Gaston had nothing to do with Thompson being fired."

"I know."