and wielded fire hoses attached to pumper trucks, pointing them toward the blaze, but it looked like a losing battle.
Police tried to keep people back as the locals continued to crowd the scene.
Doc located Tina off to the side with several men, watching the horrific scene unfold. One of them he recognized as her brother Rick. The others bore a similar resemblance, and Doc knew he was looking at Gunther and Kiefer.
When Tina spotted him, she ran over and wrapped her arms around him. Her brothers glared at him, their expressions none too friendly. Doc enclosed Tina in his arms and glared right back over the top of her head.
“I got here as fast as I could. Are you okay?” Doc asked quietly.
She was cold and wet and shivering. He quickly removed his flannel and draped it around her.
“Physically, I’m fine. Emotionally, not so much. Thanks for coming so quickly.”
“What the fuck is he doing here?” asked Rick.
Tina turned in his arms and faced her brothers. “I called him.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Figure it out.”
Had the situation not been so serious, it might have been funny, watching Rick Obermacher put the pieces together. Apparently, the other two were a little quicker and glowered at him with narrowed eyes.
“Oh, hell no,” Rick bellowed when he figured it out, taking a step forward.
“You want to get into this right here, right now?” Tina hissed.
“You’re goddamn right I do.”
“My mill is going up in flames.”
“You have insurance, don’t you?”
There was something in the way Gunther had said it that set off warning bells in Doc’s head. Apparently, Tina picked up on it, too. One second, she was with Doc. The next, she was pushing hard against her brother’s chest, shoving him backward as if he wasn’t ten inches taller and at least fifty pounds heavier.
“Did you have something to do with this? Is this another one of your schemes?”
Rick grabbed Tina by the back of her shirt and yanked her away from Gunther. Doc saw red. Before he realized what he was doing, Doc had one hand on the pressure point at the base of Rick’s neck, the other twisting Rick’s arm behind his back. Close as he was, he got a whiff of whiskey and something else—something that smelled suspiciously like gasoline.
“Don’t fucking touch her again.” Doc shoved Rick away, placing himself between Tina and her brothers.
Gunther and Kiefer moved forward, but Church was suddenly there beside him.
“Think very carefully about what you do next,” Church said, his voice low and deadly.
Several seconds passed in a standoff before Daryl Freed joined them. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, looking between the men and then narrowing his eyes at Tina, who’d moved back to Doc’s side.
“No, there’s no problem,” Church said. “Just saying hello. Weren’t we?”
Rick turned his head and spit off to the side, noticing that they were drawing a crowd. “What are you looking at?” he growled. “Go on now; mind your business.”
A few shuffled away, but most remained, curious to see what would happen next.
“Tina,” Chief Freed said, puffing up his chest, “the fire chief and I are going to need you to answer a few questions.”
Doc felt Tina stiffen.
“What questions?”
“Whatever they are, they can wait until tomorrow, Daryl,” Church said, handing Tina a rain slicker. “Tina’s had a rough night.”
Freed bristled. Whether it was Church’s quiet, commanding tone or the fact that he’d called the police chief by his first name, Doc didn’t know, but Freed was clearly pissed.
“Show some respect,” Lenny Petraski said, appearing out of the darkness. “That’s the chief of police you’re talking to.”
“I know exactly who I’m talking to,” Church said evenly without taking his eyes off of Freed. “Tomorrow.”
It was the first time Doc had seen Church engage with Freed one-on-one. On those few occasions Church had felt compelled to do something—as was the case when Dwayne Freed had shown up in Heff’s cabin, shooting out his mouth and a gun—Church had gone alone.
Of the two men, there was no question who commanded—and deserved—respect. Doc knew it. Freed knew it. And judging by the expressions on the people watching in undisguised interest, they knew it, too.
The former SEAL commander was calm, in control, and focused. The hate in Freed’s eyes was palpable. He looked like he wanted a reason, any reason, to yank out his night stick and start beating Church with it.
Doc could’ve told him not to waste his time. Nothing Freed carried would be effective against Church, including the Glock. Church