All our heads whipped in the direction of the lake. Smoke billowed up through the moonlight from somewhere around the Drexler Resort and Casino.
“That wasn’t me,” Teek said, breaking our stunned silence.
“Officer down!” Corporal Mason Baker yelled, breathless, over the frequency.
My heart stopped.
“Explosion at the Drexler, north side, near the chalets. We need medical!”
Jones tossed what was left of his corndog into his car.
“Who else is there?” I demanded as I hurried Teek into the back seat.
“Sarge and Rivera, I think,” Jones replied, getting in his driver’s seat.
Everly was still frozen to the concrete. “Get in your damn car!” I yelled at him as I got behind my wheel.
“I’ve never driven Code Three by myself.” His eyes were as wide as the moon above us.
“Go!” I slammed my door and flipped on my lights and siren. Then I floored the gas pedal.
My radio beeped as I followed Jones onto the highway. “Delta One,” a deep, winded voice said.
My heart eased a bit.
“Go ahead, Delta One,” dispatch replied.
“All officers are OK and accounted for,” Sergeant “Sarge” Essex said.
I exhaled fully for the first time since the explosion.
“Roll medical and fire. Possible casualties inside Chalet One-Ten on the golf course.”
At ninety miles per hour down the winding mountain pass, Jones, Everly, and I peeled through the entrance of the Drexler before Sergeant Tyler Essex even stopped reporting over the radio. In my back seat, Teek wailed along with the siren, the perfect soundtrack for the adrenaline surging through my veins.
“Holy shit!” I said when I rounded the steep curve toward the back of the golf course.
The chalet, once a bi-level, wood-and-stone marvel that faced the sixteenth hole on one side and Sapphire Lake on the other, was now split down the middle. Raging flames devoured the crevice, pumping black-and-gray smoke toward the few visible stars. Even at the bottom of the hill, the smoke stung my eyes, giving the flecks of rising embers a watery glow.
I parked beside Sergeant Essex’s unmarked black SUV and opened my door. “Teek, sit tight.”
He didn’t answer; his face was plastered to the polycarbonate front wall of my caged back seat, the flames dancing in his pupils.
I pulled my undershirt up over my nose to block the acrid smoke. “Everly, watch Teek!” I yelled as I ran past him toward the scene. Jones was right behind me as the first fire truck pulled in.
The silhouettes of two men, one significantly larger than the other, were coming down the hill toward us. The smaller one was limping. When I was close enough, I made out a black police uniform and a black suit. The officer was my boss, and the giant dressed like a penguin was my older brother, Ransom, head of night security for the hotel.
Ransom had grown a short beard since last I’d seen him, and his dark-walnut hair had some kind of faux hawk thing happening in the center. Something I’d definitely give him shit about later.
For now, all I cared about was that he and Essex were safe. “You all right?” I asked both of them, carefully searching my brother for blood.
Ransom shook my hand off his arm. “I’m fine. You?” he asked Essex.
My boss’s face was covered with ash and a few small cuts. “Yeah, I’m OK.” His limp down the hill said otherwise.
Ransom peeled off his jacket and tossed it to the ground. His ruined shirt was only recognizable as white by its sleeves. “Damn, that was close though.”
I looked back toward my car. “Everly! There’s a case of water in my trunk. Bring some over.”
He nodded.
Officer Jadon Rivera jogged down the hill behind them. Rivera was our shift’s reigning asshole, but I was thankful to see him in one piece.
“You good?” Essex asked him.
Rivera gave a thumbs-up. Soot streaked his face.
“What the hell happened?” Jones asked.
Essex took a few deep breaths. “Some people walking on the beach heard screaming inside the unit. They called hotel security.” He tipped his head toward my brother. “When Ransom couldn’t get an answer, they called us.”
“There was nothing but silence by the time I got here,” Ransom said.
“Why didn’t you go in?” I asked him.
“I knocked, even tried my master key, but the lock was disabled. It was like all the power was out in the chalet.”
My brow lifted with surprise. “You didn’t break down the door?”
In his wilder days, my brother had been an MMA fighter. And at six two and two hundred five pounds of solid muscle, a door couldn’t have stood in his way if Ransom had been determined to get through it.
“It’s company policy to call the police before forcing entry.” He looked back at the building. “Maybe that was a mistake.”
“Or maybe it would have gotten you killed too.” I squeezed his arm, thankful he was alive.
Rivera looked from Ransom to me and back again. “You two know each other?”
“My brother.” There was no time for formal introductions.
Everly came over, cradling an armful of water bottles. As he passed out water, Corporal Mason Baker joined us.
A former semi-pro linebacker, Baker towered over the rest of us, even Ransom. In addition to our normal patrol shift, Baker and I were both part of the SWAT team, a specialty unit called out to resolve high-risk tactical situations.
Baker swiped the back of his hand over his brow, leaving a sweat smear through the ash speckling his forehead. “Sarge, I’ve got units blocking the roads up here, but we probably should put someone on the beach.”
“Everly, go down and block beach access—”
I stopped Essex. “Everly’s busy.”
“With?”
“Guarding my suspect in custody.”
“Babysitting seems about Everly’s speed,” Rivera said with an eye roll.
Essex spoke into his radio. “Delta One, I need units blocking beach access. Nobody on or off the golf course.”
“Delta Five, en route,” Chris McCollum responded.
“Delta Six, en route,” Cameron Legieza said.
“Ransom, does the hotel have barriers handy?” Essex asked.
“Already on the way,” Ransom answered.
The firefighters were knocking down the flames, but it was clear the chalet was a total loss.
“What caused the explosion?” Jones asked.
Essex turned toward the dying inferno and shook his head. “No clue. I was looking in the front window when it blew. In seconds, the whole place went up in flames.”
“Gas leak?” Rivera asked.
“The hotel doesn’t use gas,” Ransom answered between sips of water.
“Did you see anything inside?” I asked Essex.
“Just the glass blowing at me.”
I walked closer to him and examined his face. Blood drizzled from a cut across his cheek. “You’re bleeding.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the napkin left from the gas-station dinner I didn’t get to finish. I dabbed it against the cut.
“I’m fine, Nyx.” He took the napkin from me and held it against the cut himself. “No way the same is true for whoever was inside.”