“I believe they definitely took advantage of the price drop on properties they acquired after wildfires destroyed the timber.I don’t see arson, though.”
“The fire in Oregon two months ago,” he says, his eyes finally landing on me.It’s then he removes a hand from his jacket pocket, cradling a flash drive.“That’s the one where a pair of campers died.I knew I couldn’t keep quiet after that.”
This was the reason he reached out to me to begin with.He knew his employer was participating in the horrible act of setting wildfires to grab land cheaply, but when one of those fires killed… his conscience couldn’t take it anymore.
My eyes drop to the supposed proof in his hand.“And what’s on that?”
He offers it to me and I take it.“Everything you need to show that it was arson and it came down from the top dog in the company.”
I tuck the flash drive into my front pocket.“I’ll need to verify what’s on here but—”
He focuses on something past my shoulder, face draining of color.“Fuck.”
“What?”I turn, scanning the garage.
Through the concrete pillars, I see a black SUV is starting up the ramp from the first floor.
I look back to Erik, now pale as a ghost.“They found me.”
I’m dubious but his fear seems genuine.“How do you know—”
He spins on me, eyes hardened.“Follow the burn patterns and you’ll see what I’m saying is true.I’m going to lie low, but I’ll be in touch.”
“Erik, wait—”
But he’s already backing away, one step, then another.He walks straight, attempts a confident stroll up the ramp leading to the third level.The SUV turns the corner and its lights sweep over Erik.His pace quickens and my heart rate mimics his steps.I instinctively step back into the shadows, right between a concrete three-quarter wall and the stairwell door.I hold my breath as the SUV rolls forward, slow and deliberate, tires whispering over wet pavement.
Nothing aggressive, perhaps just looking for a parking spot.
Then, without warning, the engine roars.
My heart leaps into my throat as Erik freezes in place, the wash of headlights revealing the gut-wrenching fear in his eyes.The SUV surges forward, engine growling, and Erik just stands there, feet rooted to concrete.
I want to scream for him to run but I’m equally frozen, the words lodged in my throat.
It all happens so fast.The front bumper hits him hard enough to lift him off the ground, the sickening crack of bone echoing off the concrete walls.I drop down into a low crouch, scuttle sideways behind the rear of a dark sedan.Erik’s body flies through the air, landing twenty feet from where I’m hiding.I go down to my hands and knees, wanting nothing more than to flatten myself into oblivion so I won’t be found, but also understanding that I need to be able to jump and run if necessary.
I crane my neck to peer under the car and past the front wheels.I can see Erik lying there like a limp rag doll.His head is turned away from me, but I can tell by the utter stillness he’s dead.
The SUV skids to a stop and my mind blanks.Do I run?Do I try to help Erik?My legs won’t move and my heart is hammering so hard, I can feel the pulse of it in my eardrums.
The driver’s door opens and a figure steps out.I can see the bottom of a dark coat, black dress shoes.The man walks to Erik’s body and nudges him with his foot, then crouches.I can’t see the man’s face, only from his mid back down.He presses two fingers to Erik’s throat, and I know he’s confirming that Erik isn’t going to live to rat anyone out.
The man stands and now I can only see him from the knees down, but I can tell he’s tall.And because he just brutally killed a man, I can tell he’s without a conscience.
For a heartbeat, the killer waits, and I imagine he’s ensuring there are no witnesses, perhaps head tilted and listening for any sound.I hold my breath, willing him to get back in that SUV and leave.
The man turns slowly until he’s angled in my direction.He takes a few steps toward me, one after another, the hard soles of his shoes scraping over the concrete like nails on a chalkboard.
I hold my breath until my lungs burn.
One floor up, two people enter the garage, laughing with each other.The sound freezes the man mid-step and his shoes angle away, back toward Erik.
I seize the moment while his attention shifts and make a run for it.Crouched low, I hurry behind the three cars that abut a propped-open stairwell door, about ten feet away, praying the murderer doesn’t look back in my direction.
I slip inside, thankful my boots aren’t so loud enough they give me away.I tiptoe down one flight of stairs, pressing a shaking hand over my mouth to stifle the urge to sob.My heart is pounding so hard it feels audible.I force myself to breathe through my nose, slow and silent, but every inhale shudders.
Think.
