Montana Fire (32 page)

“Fuck you.”

Max looked over at Hank. “Jamie okay?” His vision suddenly blurred, and his mind fogged.

“She’s safe, but I imagine is scared to death.” Hank stepped toward Max. “You need
to get inside. I’ll call the sheriff and wait for him.”

“No. I can—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Max’s knees buckled, and he crashed to the graveled
lot. His vision turned black.

*     *     *

At the sound of gunshots, Jamie had frozen. Before she could move to see if Max was
okay, the glass on the front door came crashing down. Scared out of her mind, she’d
dropped to her knees between the aisles and covered her head. Chills had raced up
her body, and her heart banged against her ribs.

After what seemed like ten more shots, silence filled the air, her mind jumping to
every bad conclusion. She knew that if anything happened to Max, she’d crack. The
man had claimed her heart—totally, completely. When she’d fallen in love with him,
she couldn’t say. All she knew was that she had.

Footsteps sounded a minute later, and Trent had staggered in. Hank raced up to him,
grabbed a hold of the injured man and warned her to stay still. Not understanding
what was happening outside, she followed his instruction. It was only when she’d heard
Max call for Hank that she began to breathe again.

Because she hadn’t been sure if it was safe to leave her spot, she’d remained huddled
near the loaves of bread and waited. Hank ran past her, a gun in his hand.

When she heard Max tell Hank to call the sheriff, she shot to her feet. Miraculously,
she had the strength to make it to the end of the aisle and peek out. Oh, my God.
Max was on the ground and Hank was standing over him, a phone against his ear.

Trent appeared at the end of the aisle and looked over at her. His neck was caked
in blood, but he didn’t seem to be bleeding. His eye was swollen shut and his lip
cut, but he was alert.

“Do you know what happened?” From where he stood, he would have been able to see the
exchange outside.

“No, but we better get the first aid kit. It’s on the counter.” Glass crunched. Trent
was going out to help.

Happy to be useful, she rushed toward the back of the store. She hoped they’d called
911, though she had no idea where the nearest hospital or fire station might be.

With bandages in hand, she ran outside. Cold air blasted her, but she couldn’t worry
about freezing to death right now.

Trent drew his weapon and aimed at the other man on the ground.

“I’ll get something to secure this fucker,” Hank said. He rushed back inside.

Jamie’s gaze shot to Max. Oh, no. His thigh was spurting blood. The bullet must have
nicked an artery. Her pulse pounded. If she couldn’t stop the bleeding soon, he’d
die.

Don’t fall apart on him now.

She was trained for this. Then why were her fingers trembling?

Jamie dropped down next to him. The rough gravel bit into her knees. “Max?” He didn’t
respond. She pinched his shoulder, trying to rouse him. He was going into volume shock.
“Max?”

He groaned. Damn. Grabbing a handful of gauze pads, she opened the packages then placed
them on top as well as underneath his thigh. The through and through was on the outer
edge of his leg. She applied pressure and prayed.

Hank returned and quickly used tie wraps to secure the downed man.

“Watch it, fucker.” He glanced at her. “I’m shot, too. Hey chickie. When you’re done
with him, come help me.”

She didn’t answer. “Hank did you call for an ambulance. Max really needs help.”

“Called for two. Sheriff should be here any minute to take this scum off our hands.”

The captive let out a series of expletives, but it was nothing she hadn’t heard before.

“How close is the nearest hospital?” Max was losing blood fast.

“Less than ten minutes away.”

Jamie nodded. She lifted the pad on Max’s thigh, but she didn’t seem able to slow
the flow.

“Jamie?” Max opened his eyes and tried to smile, but his lips wavered.

“I’m here. You’re going to be okay. Help is on the way.”

He lifted up on his elbows and grunted. “I’m good.”

“You are not good.” Stubborn man. “You’re bleeding badly.”

With a herculean effort, Max sat up. He glanced down at her hand holding the pad on
his upper thigh. He swatted her arm away and lifted the bloody bandage. “Hmm. Just
a scratch.” He looked up at Hank, barely able to lift his eyelids. “Where’s the sheriff?”

“He’s coming.”

“Hold this and apply pressure,” she said to Max. With her free hand she grabbed the
roll of tape, and wound it around his leg.

Max looked at Jamie. “Where’s your coat? You’ll… get c…cold.” It was as if Max was
having a hard time finding the right words. This wasn’t good.

“I’m fine.”

Flashing lights and a sudden siren made her jump. A Sheriff’s vehicle pulled to a
stop in the lot, and a tall, thin man eased out of the driver’s side while a second
man exited the passenger side.

They both trotted over. Trent explained who the criminal was, but Max interrupted.
“Need to… frisk him for the stolen property,” Max’s words came out slurred.

“I didn’t steal nothing.”

The sheriff searched the man, but came up empty handed.

“Then his partner has it,” Trent said.

The man still didn’t respond. More sirens sounded in the background. Thank God the
ambulance was here.

A minute later, two ambulances skidded into the lot. Paramedics jumped out, pulled
out a stretcher, and rushed over. Jamie relayed what had happened, despite Max complaining
the whole way.

She stood back and let the emergency team do their job. She then joined Hank. “I want
to follow Max to the hospital.”

Hank withdrew the keys to Max’s SUV. “His car will get you there faster. Go north
on the main road here. As soon as you cross US 2, take a right on Sunnyview road.
Can’t miss it.”

“You need the keys to Edith.” She ran up to ambulance. “Max. We need Hank’s keys.”

Max pressed his lips together, dug into his pocket, and handed them to one of EMTs
who gave them to her. “We need to take him, ma’am.”

Her heart ached. Max was strong. He would make it.

Once the second ambulance loaded the prisoner, the deputy hopped in back. Max’s ambulance
drove off, followed by the second one.

Jamie strode up to Max’s friend. “Trent you need someone to look at your injuries.”

“I’m good.”

What was up with all this macho shit? “Don’t be silly.”

“Hey, Sheriff. We need to find that drive,” Trent said.

They headed down the road in the direction of the headlights that were illuminating
part of the forest.

“Trent needs medical help, too,” she told Hank. “I’m not leaving without him.”

“He’ll be back soon.”

Jamie rushed inside to grab her coat and purse then waited by the broken door until
they returned.

The sheriff stepped over to his car, and Trent walked up to her. “I’m going to follow
you to the hospital in Kalispell. I want to be there for Max,” he said.

Trent was in no shape to be behind the wheel. “How about I drive? I want the company.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but Trent seemed as pigheaded as Max.

“Give me a sec, then.”

She bet he wouldn’t have given in so easily if he’d been able to see out of both eyes.
He stepped next to his Jeep, squatted down in front, and ran his fingers under the
front bumper. He moved to the back, and repeated the check.

“Fuckers.” He stood, dropped something on the ground, and smashed it with the heel
of his boot. Trent returned to her. “Those assholes must have been watching me. They
put a tracking device on my car. That was how come I didn’t see them follow me.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault.”

“Like hell it isn’t.”

It was too late now to be doling out blame. “There’s nothing you can do. Come on.
We need to get to the hospital.”

Her stomach wouldn’t stop churning. If these two found them, how many more would learn
of their location? The men’s superiors would surely expect a call saying the drive
had been secured. Damn. When was this going to end?

Chapter Twenty-Six

I
t took Jamie twenty minutes to get to the hospital. After Trent showed the ward clerk
his badge, the woman called someone to check on Max’s status. Sympathy filled her
face. “He’s being prepped for surgery now.”

Jamie hoped they could repair the damaged artery in time.

A nurse came up to Trent and placed a hand on his arm. “Sir, how about I take a look
at that neck and lip?” She ran her gaze around his face.

“I’m good.”

Men
. “Trent. Please,” Jamie pleaded. “That cut on your neck could get infected, as could
your lip. As long as we’re waiting, you might as well let her tend to you.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” He slipped his hand in his pocket and faced
Jamie. “When Agent Forbes gets here, give him this. Tell him about the other man who’s
at the hospital.”

She took the flash drive disguised as a yellow toy and deposited it in her pocket.
She couldn’t wait to turn it over to the authorities. She wasn’t so naïve to think
she’d suddenly be out of danger. Far from it. With one of their men dead, and another
injured, the terrorist cell might come after her with renewed vengeance.

“I’m coming with you.” She decided it might not be safe being in the waiting room
herself.

He nodded. “You’re right. Guess my brains got scrambled.”

The nurse escorted Trent inside, and Jamie followed. She took the seat in the corner
of the exam room. Now that Max was in good hands, and Trent was being taken care of,
exhaustion finally claimed her. Her nerves had been taut the entire drive up.

Jamie closed her eyes and couldn’t help but relive the shots over and over again.
Each time a gun had fired, her pulse skyrocketed. Poor Max. She still couldn’t believe
he’d put himself in that kind of danger. What had he been thinking running after two
armed men? It didn’t matter that he had a weapon, too. What if he’d been killed?

She opened her eyes to stop the nightmare. Max had been a real hero. In truth, if
he hadn’t stopped those men, the FBI might not have learned some of the names of the
terrorists until it was too late.

On the drive up here, Trent had relayed what he remembered. Max was about to go into
the store when a man came out of nowhere, drew a knife blade across Trent’s throat,
and then smashed his elbow into his face. Trent said it had happened so fast, he didn’t
have time to react. He was lucky he hadn’t been hurt worse.

Jaime checked the time. “When did you call Agent Forbes?”

“Over an hour and a half ago.”

He’d be here shortly. “Maybe I should wait for him in the other room.”

Trent’s jaw hardened. “No.” He turned to the nurse. “You almost done?”

The nurse had placed a few stitches above his brow and was now tending to his lip.

“Just about,” the nurse said.

Max still had the paper copy of what was on the file. Until the agent could find a
computer, he’d have to be satisfied with her memory, which at the moment was having
a hard time staying focused.

“All finished.” The nurse stepped back.

Trent got up from the exam table. “Thanks.”

After he filled out some paperwork, they returned to the waiting room. Even though
Trent was a cop, Jamie scanned the waiting room. There were only three other people
waiting. One was a mother and her young son, and the other was an older man who appeared
asleep. None were males in their twenties or thirties, but she wouldn’t discount these
three as being associated with terrorists. At this point, she might question her own
mother.

Trent stretched out his legs and winced, as if more than just his head had received
a pummeling. “So you and Max are tight?” he asked.

Jamie hadn’t expected that question. She wasn’t even sure what she should say. Trent
might be a good friend, but she wasn’t about to tell him that she was falling in love
with Max. She hadn’t even told Max! “I like him.”