Detached (Saphera Nyx #1) - Elicia Hyder Page 0,2

carefully searching my brother for blood.

Ransom shook my hand off his arm. “I’m fine. You?” he asked Essex.

My boss’s face was covered with ash and a few small cuts. “Yeah, I’m OK.” His limp down the hill said otherwise.

Ransom peeled off his jacket and tossed it to the ground. His ruined shirt was only recognizable as white by its sleeves. “Damn, that was close though.”

I looked back toward my car. “Everly! There’s a case of water in my trunk. Bring some over.”

He nodded.

Officer Jadon Rivera jogged down the hill behind them. Rivera was our shift’s reigning asshole, but I was thankful to see him in one piece.

“You good?” Essex asked him.

Rivera gave a thumbs-up. Soot streaked his face.

“What the hell happened?” Jones asked.

Essex took a few deep breaths. “Some people walking on the beach heard screaming inside the unit. They called hotel security.” He tipped his head toward my brother. “When Ransom couldn’t get an answer, they called us.”

“There was nothing but silence by the time I got here,” Ransom said.

“Why didn’t you go in?” I asked him.

“I knocked, even tried my master key, but the lock was disabled. It was like all the power was out in the chalet.”

My brow lifted with surprise. “You didn’t break down the door?”

In his wilder days, my brother had been an MMA fighter. And at six two and two hundred five pounds of solid muscle, a door couldn’t have stood in his way if Ransom had been determined to get through it.

“It’s company policy to call the police before forcing entry.” He looked back at the building. “Maybe that was a mistake.”

“Or maybe it would have gotten you killed too.” I squeezed his arm, thankful he was alive.

Rivera looked from Ransom to me and back again. “You two know each other?”

“My brother.” There was no time for formal introductions.

Everly came over, cradling an armful of water bottles. As he passed out water, Corporal Mason Baker joined us.

A former semi-pro linebacker, Baker towered over the rest of us, even Ransom. In addition to our normal patrol shift, Baker and I were both part of the SWAT team, a specialty unit called out to resolve high-risk tactical situations.

Baker swiped the back of his hand over his brow, leaving a sweat smear through the ash speckling his forehead. “Sarge, I’ve got units blocking the roads up here, but we probably should put someone on the beach.”

“Everly, go down and block beach access—”

I stopped Essex. “Everly’s busy.”

“With?”

“Guarding my suspect in custody.”

“Babysitting seems about Everly’s speed,” Rivera said with an eye roll.

Essex spoke into his radio. “Delta One, I need units blocking beach access. Nobody on or off the golf course.”

“Delta Five, en route,” Chris McCollum responded.

“Delta Six, en route,” Cameron Legieza said.

“Ransom, does the hotel have barriers handy?” Essex asked.

“Already on the way,” Ransom answered.

The firefighters were knocking down the flames, but it was clear the chalet was a total loss.

“What caused the explosion?” Jones asked.

Essex turned toward the dying inferno and shook his head. “No clue. I was looking in the front window when it blew. In seconds, the whole place went up in flames.”

“Gas leak?” Rivera asked.

“The hotel doesn’t use gas,” Ransom answered between sips of water.

“Did you see anything inside?” I asked Essex.

“Just the glass blowing at me.”

I walked closer to him and examined his face. Blood drizzled from a cut across his cheek. “You’re bleeding.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the napkin left from the gas-station dinner I didn’t get to finish. I dabbed it against the cut.

“I’m fine, Nyx.” He took the napkin from me and held it against the cut himself. “No way the same is true for whoever was inside.”

“Who was it?” I asked.

“We didn’t get that far.” Essex looked at Ransom. “Who was staying in this chalet?”

Ransom looked nervous, a rare emotion for my brother. “Ryder Stone.”

“Who?” Essex asked, because if someone was famous for anything outside ESPN or crime action drama, he was lost.

I leaned toward him. “The son of country singer Shooter Stone. They had a reality show called The Family Stones.”

Essex lifted both shoulders.

Baker looked down at me and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m a little surprised you know that, Nyx.”

“Our grandfather loves that show,” Ransom said.

“I heard he was in town with his girlfriend, filming an episode of Romancing the Stars,” Jones said.

We all turned to look at him.

My mouth gaped. “Big fan, are you, Jonesy?”

“Hey, I have teenage girls,” Jones said.

Rivera laughed and crossed his arms. “Whatever you say, man.”

Essex shot us