Redemption (Amos Decker #5)(86)

Decker looked down at it. From up here it seemed about the size of a twin bed.

Shit!

“Jump!” yelled one of the firemen.

“I’m a big guy. Will that hold me, or do you have a larger size?” Decker called back.

“This will hold you, don’t worry,” the fireman yelled back. “Just jump away from the building. Back to the ground. We’ll reposition if need be.”

Reposition if need be. Well that’s comforting.

He wondered when these guys had done their last refresher course on catching huge guys falling from great heights. He hoped it was this morning.

Decker turned to look at the flames.

Do I take my chances there?

Suddenly an explosion racked the office space and a gust of hot air blew embers over him.

Here goes nothing.

He climbed up on the windowsill, looked down to make sure he was lined up as best he could be with the cushion, said a silent prayer, and jumped.

He was looking up at the sky, which was better than looking at where he was going. Were they repositioning right now? Or were they freaking out because they’d totally screwed up? Was he about to slam into the pavement?

Unsettling thoughts, but he needed something to pass the time because it felt like he was falling for about five miles, instead of five floors.

When he hit the cushion instead of the pavement, all the air was still knocked out of him. Hands grabbed at him and hoisted him quickly to his feet.

“You okay?” asked one of the firemen.

“I am now.”

“Anybody else in there?”

“Not in the office I was in now. I don’t know about the rest of the building.”

“Any idea how it started?”

“Yeah, which is why I’m calling in the arson squad.” Decker showed the stunned firemen his creds. “Someone turned off the sprinkler system in the building,” he said.

Another fireman came up with the box Decker had dropped. “We found this on the street.”

Decker took the box from him. “Right where I dropped it. Thanks.”

As the men were fighting the fire, Decker sat on the opposite curb and called up Burlington’s arson squad and filled them in. Then he called Lancaster and did the same.

“You jumped out of a building?” she said.

“Well, not by choice. It was either that or be quick fried. I wouldn’t recommend either, actually.”

“What the hell is going on, Decker?” she said. “It feels like the whole town is under siege.”

“That’s because I think it is.”

“I’m still filling out forms. I’m starting to regret shooting the guy.”

“I’m heading back with a box of stuff I collected from Katz’s office. I’ll meet you at the station.”

Decker hefted the box and looked at the ladders and hoses and men combatting the fire. He set off down the street, climbed into his car, and drove to the police station.

Decker met Lancaster inside. He followed her into the same small conference room, set the box on the table, cut away the bubble wrap, and opened it. He handed Lancaster a stack of stuff and put another stack in front of himself.

“Her laptop wasn’t there. I think whoever searched her office took it. Or maybe she has it somewhere else. When she comes out of surgery and regains consciousness, we can ask her.”

Lancaster looked at him doubtfully. “You think she’s going to cooperate?”

“Considering somebody just tried to kill her, what choice does she have?”

“You might be surprised.”

“Well, life is just full of surprises. That’s why we play the game.”

He turned his attention to the stack in front of him. Financial documents, construction plans, Excel spreadsheets.

“She had a lot of business going on,” commented Lancaster as she started going over her set of files.

“Did you have any luck running down any of her backers?”

“Not really. But we did find out that they were shell companies for the most part with locations in countries where they believe transparency is a bad word.”

“I wonder why that is.”

“It would seem that her financial backers don’t want to be publicly known. But they might still be legit.”

“And I might be short and skinny,” said Decker. “Is there any way we can find out who’s behind those companies?”

“How about your people at the FBI?”

“I’m not sure they’re my people anymore.”

“Then you’re stuck with the resources of a small-town police force.”

“Great.”

Lancaster glanced up. “I heard you shoot when I was coming up the stairs. How’d you get a sightline on the guy?”

“His laser worked against him in that environment. I followed it back to its source thanks to a bunch of dust in the air. Katz was lucky that Melvin knocked her down when he did. I saw the guy’s scope. Sucker was super sophisticated. He could have made that shot from a mile away—”

Lancaster looked up from what she was doing. “What is it? You okay?”

“I’ll be right back,” said Decker, who was not even looking at her. He got up and hustled out of the room.

He hurried down the hall to the evidence room and checked in with the officer manning it. He told the man what he wanted and was let into the cage, where the officer took him over to a shelf against the wall. The officer held up the rifle with the scope still attached. It was in a large plastic evidence bag with the department tag.