Saving Emmy by Rayne Lewis

Chapter 12

Ember didn’t like this plan. No, scratch that, she hated this plan. It was too early to discuss this plan...it wasn’t even sun up. The range wasn’t open yet, and this was not the way she wanted to start her day.

“Why do I have to go to the office with you every day? Why can’t I just stay here in my office?” Ember’s voice was working up to a whiney, shrill level even to her own ears. “I mean, we have security and every person in this place is strapped. I’m strapped,” she tapped the H&K holstered to her hip. “Someone would have to go through a hail of gunfire to get to my office. If anyone asks for me, I'll be super vigilant.”

Slate scoffed and ran his hands over his neck. “You think someone’s going to come in and politely ask you to step out of your office? You think this is the Old West, gunfight at high noon, OK Corral? There's myriad ways someone can get to you.”

Ember gave him a disdainful look. She didn’t like Eli belittling her. Of course she didn’t think someone would just walk in, ask for her, and announce they were there to hurt her.

Mitch joined in. “I think it’s a good plan, honey. Are you safe here? Probably. Will you be safer at Hellforce? Absolutely. Should you take a chance? Absolutely not.”

“But what about the range? I just can’t just up and leave. I have to be here to manage things.”

“You have a competent, reliable staff. Most all your accounting, payroll, ordering and purchasing can be done online,” her father added. “There’s almost nothing that can’t be done, office wise, remotely. All staff can do training classes, firearm sales, and background checks. You’ve trained them well. Rely on that training. ”

Ember paced her small office. Her father and Eli were overreacting. She couldn’t deny she felt like there was more to this than just a random shooting. Her gut said she hadn’t seen the last of the Bazwar family. But, she was never one to run and hide. She wasn’t a coward, and she could take care of herself. She didn’t need to be sheltered by Eli and his friends. If hell was going to come knocking, then she would be geared up to face the devil.

“I’m not going to run and hide. You both know that’s the last thing I’d do. I’ve been in tighter spots than this, and I’ve always held my own.” Ember felt the fire burning within her. “Thank you, but I can take care of myself.”

“We’re not asking you to run and hide. We’re asking you to be smart and safe. And yes, you are competent and capable. You’ve proven that over and over, time and again. And, yes, you have been in more dangerous spots than this, but you’ve also had a team at your back.” Her father took a moment to let his words settle. “You're a warrior, you always have been, but you don’t have to be an army of one. Please, baby girl. I need you to do this.”

“Your staff took care of things while you were gone earlier for two weeks, and they managed just fine. King will set you up with an office at his place. You’ll be able to run things just like you do from here.” Eli gestured around the room with his hand. “And, for anything that you can’t do there, we’ll make time for you to come back during the week.” He hoped Ember would do the right thing and take King up on his offer to give her an office space at Hellforce.

“Baby girl, even the devil himself isn't crazy enough to come into Hellforce. It’s the safest place for you to be right now.”

Ember mulled it over in her head. From an office standpoint, there really was no difference where she worked. Paperwork was paperwork, whether it was done from the range office or a remote office. But, this was her range. Her business. Her dream. She built the business and wasn’t going to let someone make her run from it. The fire built inside her and was now raging.

”No!” She spat out the word. “I’m not leaving. You two are blowing this whole situation out of proportion. You're conjuring up demons where there aren’t any. I'm not in any more danger than any other random person on the street.” She felt the anger radiating throughout her. She wasn’t letting their paranoia run her out.

Mitch looked to Eli and gave him a nod. Eli pulled a piece of paper from a manila envelope. Walking over to Ember, he handed her the photocopied letter.

Ember lifted her eyes to him. “What’s this?”

Eli pushed the paper towards her gesturing her to take it. She grasped it, holding Eli’s stare. Her dad had his eyes on her and she knew whatever this was, she wasn’t going to like it.

“Wrong one gone. Resemblance dead. Next not wrong. Take from ours, we take from yours. No shadows dark to hide. Time is patient. Both you and loves no more.”

“What the hell is this?” Ember read it again, confusion marring her face.

“This came to the range.”

“What? When did this come in the mail? Why didn’t I see this?” Ember was trying to make sense of the situation. “Who opened this?”

Eli shook his head. “It wasn't mailed. It was left yesterday on the sales counter up front.”

Ember read the note again. “This doesn’t even make sense. It’s gibberish. It’s not even a poem. Probably someone being a dick...trying to pull a prank.” She turned to her father, looking for agreement. She didn’t find it with him.

“It’s no joke, honey.”

“Why wasn’t I made aware of this? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Now, she was pissed.

“John found it on the counter. He thought it was just trash until he read it, and then he showed it to me.” Her father shifted his weight. “Ranger Matthews came and took it into the station for examination and processing. This is a copy.”

“Again, I wasn’t told about it?” Her voice was laced with ire.

Her father showed no remorse. “I didn’t want to worry you. Like you said, it could have been a prank.”

“Could have? And, is it?”

Eli rubbed the back of his head and caught the look from Mitch, jockeying to see who would tell her.

“Well?” A single word filled with scorn as she volleyed back and forth between the two men. “Stop whatever you two are hiding and just tell me!”

Slate spoke. “Husani Bazwar’s brother, Omar’s prints were found on the face and back of the note.”

Ember staved off her rage and adrenaline filled her. She kept her bearings, staying in control of herself. Her eyes darted between Eli and her father. “No mistake? Are they positive?”

“The prints match. No doubt about that. They match his prints on his immigration form. Matthews would like to comb the security footage and see if they can make an identification of anyone dropping that on the counter.” Mitch pointed at the letter she was still holding.

“If Cy could get a copy of the footage as well…”

“You mean he hasn’t helped himself to a copy yet?” She pinned Eli with a look of ire.

Eli didn’t say anything, but shook his head no. He, as well as everyone in the room, knew Cy could get a copy if he wanted, but his team wouldn’t do that without her consent since this was personal.

She looked back at the letter in hand. “I’ll get the footage,” then added, “for Matthews and Cy.”

Her father took her by the shoulders and held her in front of him. “Please, baby girl. I'm not above begging. Please, just tell me you’ll at least try the arrangement at Hellforce. I need to know you're safe.”

The plea in her father’s eyes was heart wrenching. She wanted to say no, she could handle this on her own, but she knew in all honesty she needed to have someone at her back. At least until the Bazwar family was found, she would give this to her father.

“Okay, Daddy.”

The words were a blessing to his ears. He knew Eli and all the men at Hellforce would protect her.

“I’ll work remotely until the family is found, then I'm coming back here. I don’t run. I'm not going to let fear run my life.”

Taking his hands from her shoulders, Mitch engulfed her in a hug. “Thank you, baby girl.”

“This is only temporary,” she spoke into his chest.

Neither her father nor Eli responded.

Eli broke into the conversation. “Do you need to box any of this up?” He scanned the office, looking at the various things she may need to bring.

“I’ll get a box and we can load up the essentials. I’ll send the security footage before we leave.”

* * *

“Omar Bazwar made four stops to the range prior to dropping off the letter.” Cy had gone over the security footage and swept from the date of the shooting to when the letter was found. “All the same week before he dropped the note.”

“No one found it peculiar that the same guy browses the counter and makes no purchases?” Arctic questioned from the table discussion.

“That’s not all that uncommon,” Ember said. “We have some customers who come in multiple times before making a purchase. The decision to have or carry a firearm isn’t made lightly. I actually prefer customers that come in multiple times and customers that ask a lot of questions.”

“So, a looky-loo wouldn’t have raised any flags with the staff?”

“No, happens all the time,” she answered.

Cypher pointed to the wall where the security footage was projected. “If you watch him,” he pointed to Omar, “he enters and kinda hangs back while the other customers are being helped. Then, he walks past the counter and is looking down the back corridors. Seems odd to me.” Cy switched the video to the next visit. “See...here, again, he wanders around before browsing the cases. Seems to me that if you’re coming to purchase a gun, or are considering it, you’d go straight to the case.” He let the footage play out a little longer. “This guy,” he points to a sales rep, “he addresses him multiple times, and Omar refuses the help.”

“That’s Marcus. He was the one that remembered Omar coming in on the day the letter was found.” Ember watched the footage intently. “He said Omar told him he was just browsing. Matthews came in and questioned Marcus, and he said he definitely remembers him.”

Cypher changed the video, and again, Omar wandered throughout the sales floor.

“The front end isn’t that large, so he has to imagine he’d be seen by someone.” Trip said.

“There were a lot of people in the second and third video, and it was really busy the day he dropped the note, so maybe he thought he wouldn’t be suspicious. I mean, we see him because we’re looking for him, but on an average day, in shop, we see so many faces they kinda all blend together with one another,” Ember spoke while watching the video.

“He has to know there are security cameras watching like hawks.” Slate added.

King piped in, “He’s an amateur. Probably hasn’t thought his plan through.”

“Those are the easiest to catch.” This came from T-BAR who for the most part was keeping to himself. “Too many mistakes...leads us right to them.”

Slate and T hadn’t spoken since his return, and King assigned them to neutral corners. Slate figured King didn’t want animosity between them boiling up and all hell to break loose. T was holding his own, but Slate wanted to have a face-to-face with him. Slate knew the talk would come sooner or later, but he wasn’t going to have the discussion in front of Ember. She was already placing the blame of T’s injury on herself because Slate left to protect her. That thought was bullshit, because Ember didn’t make his decision when he walked out. That was on him.

“This is the day he dropped the letter.” Cy was pointing to the screen. “When he wrote it, probably wore gloves, but, see...he pulls the paper out already folded in half —”

“No gloves.” A few guys said in unison.

“Dumbass,” was Trip’s contribution to the conversation.

“That's why no prints were found as they normally would, say if you were writing a letter, you’d have palm prints, smudges, partials. His prints would be all over the face of that thing.” Arctic was thinking out loud.

King swiveled in his chair. “Majority of the prints were on the folded face. Wrote the letter with gloved hands, folded it, didn’t wear gloves after that. It’s an imbecile criminal.”

The new guy, Creed spoke up, “Unless he wants to be caught?” He let the question hang in the air.

“Naw. He’s just stupid,” Slate added.

“Would have been pretty suspicious if he’d have been in the shop with latex gloves on.” Trip huffed a quick laugh, “Or any gloves in ninety-degree Texas heat.”

“Question now, where is he? And, where’s the family?” King asked, running his hand down his short beard.

Trip raised his brows. “If we can figure that out, then we grab ‘em and nab ‘em, then make him talk. Don’t let him clam up like his brother.”

“If only,” came Arctic’s response. The guys in the room gave head nods and murmurs of agreement.

“Gotta do this one by the books, boys. I promised Matthews no interference.”

“Why would he expect that? Does he know us at all?” Cy quipped back, giving the room a well-needed chuckle.

“Serious as shit, boys. By. The. Book.” King punctuated each word and leaned into the table giving a glance to each of the men, and Ember, sitting around the conference table. “Don’t want this fucked up. Recon only. Call in what you see. Do not handle this ourselves.”

“Can we be concerned citizens making a citizen’s arrest?” Trip laughed.

“Yeah, citizens who carry a Carbine as their EDC, no questions asked!” Creed added, while everyone continued to laugh.