If Gabe Rossiter was dead…
Fuck.
“Where did Jack say Kat was going?” he asked.
“On her way down the canyon toward the Boulder County Fairgrounds,” McBride answered.
Darcangelo pulled out his cell phone. “We should let the others know.”
“You’re right.” McBride gave Darcangelo a friendly slap on the back.
Darcangelo gasped, winced.
McBride stared at him. “I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“Burns from embers. I took off my shirt and wrapped Crank in it when I carried him outside.” Darcangelo lifted the back of his shirt, exposing red, blistered burns the size of quarters scattered across his back and shoulders.
“Why didn’t you say something?” McBride asked.
“He’s stubborn,” Marc offered.
“It’s not that serious.”
McBride wasn’t convinced. “You should get checked out by medical.”
“And what will they do? They’ll tell me I have second-degree burns and do nothing. You two just keep your manly affection to yourselves.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Marc drew out his cell phone, typed a quick text message to Sophie.
Gabe and six others missing after fire burned through camp where he was staying. Kat knows. She evacuated to the BoCo Fairgrounds with the kids. Thought you’d want to know. We’re safe. See you soon. Love you.
Sophie replied almost immediately.
OMG! How awful. Please stay safe!!!! I love you, too!
Deputy Marcs pulled up beside them in her vehicle.
“Thank God you’re still here.” For the first time all day, she looked shaken, her voice trembling. “Some fucking idiot was flying a drone over the fire. It hit the helicopter that Hawke was in and took out the tail rotor. The chopper crashed right in front of the fire. Four men were aboard—Hawke, Silver, a photojournalist, and the pilot. Help me find the son of a bitch responsible for that drone.”
Marc stomach sank. “Photojournalist?”
Ramirez had been hanging with Hawke. It had to be him.
Please don’t let it be him!
Deputy Marcs nodded. “I think they said he was from the Denver Independent.”
“Fucking hell.” Marc wanted to hit something.
Not Joaquin, too.
“Mierda.” Darcangelo closed his eyes.
“Any idea who the little puke is or where we can look for him?” McBride asked.
“Witnesses said they saw two college-aged guys in the Food Mart parking lot holding what looked like a drone controller. They were wearing T-shirts and hiking shorts.”
Marc didn’t know what they could do with that kind of description. “That describes every young person in Colorado today.”