Page 6 of Outlaw Ridge: Hayes

People whispered that she wasThe Godfather’sdaughter.

And she was.

Her father did indeed have plenty of connections to organized crime, and while Jemma had never been part of the “family business,” there was still guilt by mere association. But in her case, the apple did fall pretty damn far from the tree, and the responders were going to have to put that distrust aside as they stepped into this nightmare.

“Trace and Clayton are dead inside the breakroom,” Jemma managed to say as she met the three firemen in the parking lot.

“Dead,” one of them repeated. Hal Franklin. He went pale. The other two, Stella Mendoza and Lyle Perkins, didn’t fare well with the news either. Stella gasped, and Lyle cursed and staggered back a step.

“Did they die in the fire?” Hal asked.

Jemma shook her head but didn’t tell them about the causes of death. They’d see that soon enough for themselves. “As far as I can tell, there’s no actual fire at the moment. Just smoke. The overhead sprinklers were running when I arrived for my shift,” Jemma tacked onto that.

That seemed to be all the info the trio needed because, gathering up their gear, they rushed inside. She raced in after them, hoping to preserve anything she could of the crime scene.

Because that might be key to solving this.

So far, this looked like a well-organized attack, what with Trace, Clayton, and the sheriff all murdered and with the attacks on Owen and her. But the most careful killers could leave something of themselves behind. And that meant she had to get CSIs on scene. Some extra help, too. Even when the other deputies showed up, they would all be in shock.

Jemma took out her phone again and called the county sheriff’s office, and much to her relief, someone actually answered. “This is Deputy Jemma Salvetti from Outlaw Ridge PD,” she told the dispatcher. “I need the county CSI team.” She paused. Had to. “Sheriff Bonetti and two deputies are dead.”

“Dead?” the dispatcher repeated, but he thankfully didn’t ask her any questions. “All right, I’ll inform County Sheriff Jeb Harlan so he can get the CSI team to you. Do you also need additional manpower?”

“I need anything you can send me,” Jemma settled for saying.

After thanking him, she ended the call and continued to follow the fire responders as they made their way from room toroom. She saw her own workspace, not in the bullpen but the small records office next to the sheriff’s. Like everything else in the building, the desk, computer, and all the paper files that she’d been digitizing were drenched.

She whirled around when she heard the footsteps behind her, and for a heart stopping moment or two, Jemma thought this was maybe the killer returning to finish her off.

But it was Hayes.

She felt the slam of relief. But it was short-lived though once she got a good look at his expression.

“What’s wrong?” she couldn’t ask fast enough.

Hayes took his time, gathering his breath before he spoke. “We, uh, just got updates from my three brothers.”

“The ones who were checking on the deputies,” she muttered. Jemma stopped herself from saying anything else, from asking if her co-workers were all right.

Because she knew.

Oh, God.

She knew they were far from all right. And even though Jemma didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want it to be true. Hayes still spelled it out for her.

“Except for Owen and you, all the other Outlaw Ridge deputies are dead.”

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Chapter Three

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In the couple of hours of sleep that Hayes had managed to get, he’d dreamed about hell. About missions years ago where he’d waded through hot sand and warm blood. Where people had died, and he’d come close to dying right along with them.

Then, he’d awakened in an unfamiliar room to another kind of hell.

No hot sand here in the Sunset Inn at the edge of town. No military mission but there had been plenty of blood.

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