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Into the Fire

Page 41

by Morgan Brice

Bystanders shouted. Cars swerved to avoid the fire. Vic saw a chance and took it. He avoided getting hit as he maneuvered between vehicles, trying to put distance between himself and the fire.

Sirens screamed in the distance. Rattled, Vic pulled off and parked. Most of the other cars that had been nearest to the burning truck continued on their way. One or two also stopped a safe distance away.

“You okay?” a firefighter asked Vic. Behind him, he could see the man’s companions battling the flames.

“Yeah. A little singed, but not bad.” Vic’s coat had scorch marks, and he was grateful that his face shield protected him from the worst of the blast. “Was there anyone in the truck? Did anyone get hurt?”

“We’re not sure yet,” the firefighter replied. “There shouldn’t have been any flammable cargo. Witnesses say the truck just went up like a torch. We’d like to get a statement.”

Vic flashed his badge. “Happy to help, but there’s somewhere else I need to be. Call me at the police station, and I’ll tell you what little I saw.”

He revved his bike and got back on the road, proud that his hands no longer shook. When he reached the station, he stopped to call Simon before he went inside.

“Watch your back even more than usual,” he told his husband before telling him about the fiery truck. “Tell Pete to be careful too.” Vic figured he could tell Simon the whole story about Ferretti once they were home.

“Fuck. Do you think it was a personal attack?” Simon asked.

“Seems like too much of a coincidence not to be. But is it the Mob or the entity?”

“Where are you now?”

“Just parked at the station. I’m going to finish my shift and then head home.”

“Vic, please take the threat seriously,” Simon begged.

“I am. You too.”

Vic headed into the station and found Ross waiting for an update.

“Well?” his partner asked.

No one else was in hearing range, so Vic gave him an abbreviated version that still covered the essential points.

“Fuck. That was too close,” Ross said after hearing the recap.

Vic rubbed the back of his neck where the skin felt sunburned. “Tell me about it.”

“What’s the next move?”

“Keep digging until we find something we can use,” Vic replied. “The thing was bound once. It’s got to have a weakness.”

“Since you were going to see Ferretti, I ran a report of all the known Dixie Mafia members who were known to be involved with the Ocean Visions casino. Ferretti is the last one alive,” Ross said.

“All within the last few months? Like the others?” Vic already knew the answer before Ross spoke.

“Yep. Within the window of time that you think the entity was breaking loose.”

Vic’s desk phone rang. He exchanged a puzzled look with Ross before he picked it up. “D’Amato here.”

“You have a visitor. Federal agent. He’s heading up now.”

Vic hung up and muttered a string of curses. “There’s a fed here to see me. Stick around.”

Ross sat down at his desk, looking busy. Vic shuffled papers, not wanting to give the impression he was waiting for his visitor.

“Vic D’Amato?” A man in a black suit stood in front of Vic’s desk and showed his ID.

“Yeah. Who are you?” Vic’s tone walked a careful line between busyness and rudeness.