“Hold on.” Chief Johnson walked over and put his hand on my arm. “This is a confidential matter. We have to notify the family first. That’s protocol.”
“You don’t understand.” I looked at Chief Johnson with panic in my eyes. “This may be a big fucking deal.”
“Yeah.” Rand threw the file down on the table. “If this is the same woman that Brylee told us about, then this may not be arson—this could be murder.”
“Fucking hell.” Chief Johnson took a step back. “I need to notify the police. Okay, call your friend, but let her know we may need her to meet us at the police station tomorrow morning.”
It felt like my world was crashing down around me as I listened to Brylee’s phone ring and go to voicemail. It was after hours. She wouldn’t be at work. I needed her to pick up so I could confirm that she was okay. I just needed to hear her voice—and not the one on her voicemail. I left a quick message asking for her to call me, sent a text message that said the same thing, and then started trying to call her again. My stomach twisted into a knot and I saw Rand’s face getting more worried by the second. He grabbed his phone and started calling someone, but I wasn’t sure who he was trying to reach. Brylee’s phone went to voicemail again and I immediately dialed a third time. I started to pace and my jaw clenched. My worry was growing by the second, especially considering what she told us the previous night.
“I called Mike at the front desk. He’s heading up to Brylee’s apartment to knock on the door.”
“Fuck, she could be anywhere.” I ended the call when it went to voicemail again.
“If Mike doesn’t get an answer, we’ll go home. I’m sure Chief Johnson will understand.” Rand exhaled sharply and shook his head.
“This is madness!” I slammed the phone against the table in frustration.
“Guys, we got a problem.” Chief Johnson came running back into the common room.
“What’s going on?” I turned towards him immediately.
“It’s Dunkirk Accounting.” He motioned towards the trucks. “It’s on fire—you have to go.”
“Oh my god.” Rand took a step back. “Okay, we’ll suit up.”
“She wouldn’t still be at work—right?” I ran towards the lockers with Rand on my heels.
“There’s no way. She’s always home by this time.” Rand grabbed his gear and started putting it on.
“I just wish she would call.” I glared at my phone and growled under my breath.
“Wait, my phone’s ring.” Rand grabbed his phone off the bench. “Mike? Did you check her apartment? Fuck!”
“What?” I stared at Rand as he ended the call.
“She’s not there.” Rand grabbed his helmet and started running towards the fire truck. “Come on.”
The engine screamed out of the station with sirens blaring. Rand put his foot on the gas pedal and kept it pressed to the floorboard. We blew through red lights, ignored stop signs, and didn’t say a word to each other the whole ride. The silence in the cab of the truck said everything. If someone at Dunkirk Accounting was behind Dana’s murder, and they found out Brylee knew about the fraud, she could be in real danger. I didn’t want to think about the possibilities, especially when we got close and saw how bad the fire was. There was no way it was an accident. The bottom floor was completely engulfed and the building should have had a sprinkler system to keep it from spreading. I was glad several trucks had followed us because we were going to need all the help we could get.
If you’re in there, Brylee—we’re coming for you.
Chapter Twenty
Brylee
Earlier that morning
“Has anyone seen Paul?” I walked up to Paul’s desk and looked around at our other co-workers.
“No, I think he called in sick.” Gina, one of the women who sat near Paul, tilted her head and shrugged.
Just like Dana? Oh no…
“Okay, thanks.” My knees started to wobble as I walked towards my desk, and my stomach started doing flips.
I thought about just getting my stuff and leaving once I got to my desk. There was no way Paul called in sick—unless it was a cover because he was reporting what he found. I started thinking about the discussion I had with Rand and Jett the night before. Was it possible that Dana accepted some kind of bribe to keep quiet? Was it possible that Paul was offered one too? I pulled out my phone and sent Paul a message on Facebook. He was online when I sent the message, and I got confirmation that he read it, but there was no reply. A few seconds later, he logged off. It was an eerie familiarity—it was exactly what Dana did when I tried to reach out to her. I put my phone away and tried to focus on my work, although I wasn’t sure I was going to be very productive with my thoughts so jumbled.
“Brylee, can you come into my office for a moment?” Mr. Smith opened his door and motioned to me.