The Protector

by Dee Henderson

  “I didn’t want to.”

  Jack reached over, avoiding her left hand wrapped in a cold towel and settled for touching the grimy knee of her jeans. “You went in anyway.” There was admiration and lingering fear in that. She had been touched by fire once, and she still went in. She’d been touched by it again because they hadn’t been in time to help her. “It makes you even more of a hero.”

  “Heroine.”

  “You’re still lady blue,” he corrected.

  “Thanks.” She sounded pleased…even touched.

  “You’re one of us. Even if you aren’t around nearly as often as we would like.”

  “The guys crowd me,” she said softly. “And it’s hard on their families.”

  Jack hurt to hear that even though he understood it. She was the walking reminder of what families feared would happen. “They don’t mean it to be.”

  “It’s just reality. I’m not complaining.”

  “And it’s hard to be around what you once had.”

  “Yes.” She shifted Cole’s coat. “I smell like smoke. I don’t miss that at all.”

  As a way to lighten the conversation, she had chosen a great point to make. “We both do.” The vehicle now smelled like a campfire gone bad. It was not exactly the way to make a good impression on a lady.

  “Did you see where my leather jacket went?”

  Jack was grateful she hadn’t asked how it had fared. The leather had done its job, deflecting burning embers, but it had been destroyed in the process. “Cole had it. I think he tossed it in your car.”

  She eased open the cold towel to look at her blisters.

  “Don’t start playing with the bandage and messing up Neal’s work.” The cold towel kept the gauze wet and the burns moist, a major factor for how it healed.

  “Would you relax? They’re just blisters. A day or two and they will be calluses.”

  “What did they give you for the pain?”

  “I’ve no idea, but whatever was in the shot, it’s working.”

  “Your words are slurring.”

  “I don’t make much sense at this time of night anyway, so it’s probably not much of a loss.” She lost her voice on another coughing fit.

  “I wish you had seen a doctor.”

  “At this time of night they wouldn’t have let me go home.”

  “That’s a big deal?”

  “Yes.”

  It wasn’t much of an explanation, but the emotions under the word were deep. Home was critical to her now. He tucked that fact away. Did she dream about the fire, need the comfort of her own bed to help her sleep?

  “How are your forearms?”

  “They hurt.”

  She raised her hand, then stopped. “I wish I could rub my eyes.”

  “There’s a clean handkerchief in my shirt pocket if you want it.” Jack would have reached for it and given it to her, but his hands were far from clean.

  Cassie leaned over and tugged it out with her right hand. “Thanks.” She slipped off her glasses and wiped at her eyes.

  “Need more eyedrops?”

  “When we get to the station.” She slipped her glasses back on.

  Jack rolled his shoulders and did his best to cover a yawn. It was embarrassing to admit how adrenaline sapped his energy.

  “I can’t say I miss the middle of the night rollouts.”

  He heard the amusement under her words. He glanced at the dashboard clock. 12:05 A.M. He could forget sleep again tonight, and it was getting to be a bad pattern. When he was in his twenties it hadn’t been so hard to deal with. As he neared thirty-four he now felt every minute of the lost sleep. “At least you got me out of cleanup at the scene.”

  “Oh, great.”

  “What?”

  She lifted her right knee and braced her foot against the dash. “These were my comfortable tennis shoes.” There was a hole in the canvas fabric at the top of her right shoe just above her little toes.

  “They look like they were fit for the trash bin before this.”

  “I like old shoes. New clothes, but old shoes.” She tugged at the laces with one finger. “Do you know who has my watch?”

  “My pocket,” he reassured.

  “I feel like I’ve left bits and pieces of me all over the place. I’m not sure what happened with the leftovers I was taking home. I probably tossed the sack in the backseat of my car when I smelled the smoke and managed to spill the food.”

  “Cole will deal with it.”

  “I hope he notices that the car needs gas.”

  “I’m sure he will notice.”

  “Is Cole coming back to the office? Or is he going to be at the scene for a while?”

  “I’d guess he’ll be there until he can get the first look inside and get the security in place to close the scene. Regardless, I’m giving you a lift home. You don’t need to be driving with that hand.”

  “I would appreciate it. I need my hair washed and a change of clothes.”

  “You look like you walked out of a fire.”

  “I feel like it. Just don’t bump us into someone I know or I’m going to be spending forever explaining.”

  Jack turned into the Station 81 complex and pulled around to the parking lot behind the building. He parked the SUV beside Cole’s personal car. “Stay put. I’ll get the door for you.”

  The cold air swirled in as he opened the driver’s door and stepped out. He circled the vehicle and opened the passenger door. Cassie braced her uninjured hand on his shoulder to keep her balance as she stepped down. He leaned in to make it easier. She was hurting, and he wished he had the right to lean in and kiss it better. Her hand tightened on his shoulder. “Don’t look like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Interested,” she muttered.

  “I am.”

  “Your timing is awful.”

  He hadn’t placed her as easily embarrassed, but she was now. “I think my timing is just fine,” he smiled tenderly, rubbing her chin with his thumb. “But I’ll let you think about it a bit.” Before she could pull back he turned to lead instead. “Come on, this way.”

  The light at the back door to the station was on. Jack used his key, then held the heavy steel door open for her. He was here more often than home, and it was a comfortable if spartan place. They walked into a wide spacious corridor, the floor tiled and the walls painted cinder block. The corridor was lined with hooks for coats and jackets. To the right was a spacious kitchen with an extra large refrigerator, stove, two sinks, two microwaves, and a large work area. Whichever firefighter had KP duty for the day was cooking for fifteen to twenty for any particular meal.

  To the left was the lounge where guys could hang out while off duty, past it the dorm rooms. The architects had changed the historical layout for this station, and instead put the dorms on the first floor, eliminating the much-loved fire pole. Too many men ended up with shin-splint injuries from repeatedly hitting the concrete floor to make it worth having.

  The equipment bays were ahead, a huge part of the building, fifty-two feet long, forty feet deep, with twenty feet high ceilings and fastrising doors. As large as the bays were, they still felt cramped when two engines, a ladder truck, and two rescue squads were pulled inside at the same time.

  He eased the coat from around her shoulders. “Okay?” She just nodded. Nothing could hide the fresh tears. Her arms were really hurting. “I’m so sorry, Cassie.”

  She sniffed and smiled. “Just get me some Kleenex.”

  “And I’ll go grab more eyedrops and another ice pack.”

  “Cole’s office?”

  Jack was surprised to realize she hadn’t been here before. “Next door in the district offices. Hang a left when you enter the equipment bay and go through the connecting corridor. His office is on the left past the conference room.”

  Jack watched her turn that way, her steps slow and measured. The only thing he could do was ease the hurt as best he could and hope she didn’t end up with nightmar
es because of tonight.

  The station was quiet, a radio was on somewhere as well as the muted sounds of the TV left on in the lounge. Before he headed to the medical cabinet, Jack paused to nudge the magnet by his name on the status board over to show he was in the offices. He got eyedrops, burn cream, and broke out another ice pack for her hand.

  Cassie had turned on lights on her way through the dark office building.

  There wasn’t room to shove another desk into the packed open office area. There had been an attempt last month to squeeze in a desk for the police liaison by angling it in by the emergency exit, sparking a heated debate over whether the fire department should comply with the letter of the law regarding fire safety or the spirit of the law which was to make sure the exits weren’t blocked.

  The pragmatic people working on the arson squad suggested if fire crews twenty feet away couldn’t deal with the fire, having an exit with clearance of more than eighteen inches was irrelevant. The desk had been put in.

  Jack found Cassie in Cole’s office. She had settled into his desk chair, slouched to be comfortable. It was cool in this building. Jack wished he had thought to grab a sweatshirt from his locker for her.

  “I see he’s been decorating,” Cassie noted.

  Children’s hand-drawn pictures of a fireman and engine were taped in a rather haphazard montage on the wall.

  “He’s been doing a series of presentations at the local schools.” Jack pulled out a chair at the small table, swiveling it around and setting down the supplies he carried. The pictures clashed with the pile of books on the table. Two of them—Investigating the Fireground and Fire Investigation—Jack recognized as course books that Cole was using in his current academy training class.

  “What are the latest numbers? Eleven percent of fires are juvenile arsons?”

  “Closer to 15 percent.”

  “Ouch.”

  Jack reached over for the Kleenex box and set it in her lap. “Eye-drops.”

  She reluctantly slid off her glasses. “Don’t drown me.”

  Jack chuckled at the warning. “Can’t swim?”

  “Not funny.”

  “Bad pun. Tilt your head back.”

  She leaned her head back but did so by slouching in the chair and looking up. He smiled at her but had his doubts about her ability to see his expression without her glasses. “Don’t trust me?”

  “What do you think?” She reluctantly leaned farther back.

  He missed with the first drop, then got the next four drops sort of in as her blinking messed up his aim. He didn’t have the heart to hold her eyes open anymore. “Done.”

  She didn’t comment, just pulled a tissue from the box…and another one and another.

  He wisely didn’t say anything either as she dried her eyes and slipped on her glasses. He was relieved to see the redness was beginning to clear. “What can you tolerate to drink? More ice water? Juice?”

  “Something with sugar. See if Cole has any of his favorite pineappleorange left.”

  Jack opened the small refrigerator Cole kept tucked under the side table. He found two bottles of the juice and opened one of them for her.

  Cassie accepted it with a quiet thanks, then used the toe of one tennis shoe against the heel of the other to pry off her shoes. “Does Cole like the arson job?” she asked as she looked around the office, sipping the cold juice.

  Jack had the odd feeling that Cassie did not want to talk about the fire yet. He set his juice bottle on the table and laced his fingers across his chest. “He’s good at it.”

  “He would be. He’s thorough. How are the latest station consolidations working out?”

  She was definitely stalling. “There are challenges with learning the new streets and buildings within the expanded district. The station is busier. We’re rolling out on probably 20 percent more calls, and it’s putting some strain on the paid oncall guys. We’ll probably need to move a couple up to salaried positions and put them into the full-time rotation. On the other hand, it is nice having another engine in the rotation for call outs.”

  “The Company 65 guys are fitting in?”

  “Friendly competition,” Jack replied, smiling slightly. The drills over the last months were killing them as one engine crew tried to outdo the other, but it was making them all better firefighters. “They seem to be making the transition just fine.”

  He wished he could read her body language, her expression, better to understand what was going on. He could sort of figure out what his sisters were thinking, but Cassie was a mystery. “What’s wrong?”

  “What?”

  “You’re chattering. This place is making you nervous.”

  She looked away. He waited.

  She checked the turned up cuff on her shirtsleeve. It was an interesting tell. He tipped his head to one side and considered why it might be happening. She hadn’t been to Cole’s office before. She was stalling, and he couldn’t figure out why. Curiosity overtook the concern. “Did you ever read the nursing home report?”

  “It was offered. I passed.”

  “I wondered.” She had never wanted to talk about the fire when he stopped by the hospital to visit. With Ash it had been the opposite; the fire was the only thing her partner had wanted to talk about.

  The nursing home fire had been an unfortunate fire in how it spread. Two of the automatic fire alarms were not working so the fire took hold and spread before other alarms triggered. Two patients died, six had been critically injured from the smoke, and Cassie paid a permanent price. It had been arson. The man suspected of setting it and three other fires had been killed in a car accident in New Jersey two months ago with an outstanding warrant pending for his arrest.

  Cassie shifted in her chair. “What do you need to know for your report?” There was grimness under her words, a reluctance to look at him, a tenseness that extended to her body language. She didn’t want to think about the fire tonight. He couldn’t blame her, not when he just had to think about that hallway and he saw her trying to crawl out clutching a teddy bear.

  “What did you see?”

  “Not much.”

  “Do you want to do this tomorrow?”

  “With a crowd around here…no thanks.” Jack saw her measure the open floor space with her eyes and shift forward in her chair as she thought about getting up to pace. Then she changed her mind and settled back. “I’m tired, Jack. Really tired. But I know how this guy has been hassling you. This is what, his third fire?”

  “Sixth,” Jack replied softly. He caught her startled gaze.

  “You’re serious.”

  “This makes his second house.” Jack found a blank pad of paper. “I need to know everything you saw, from the beginning.”

  She was distinctly subdued as she answered. “I smelled the smoke when I left the bookstore.”

  “Who were the spectators at the fire when you arrived?”

  Jack didn’t hurry as he took her through the evening up to the point when they found her in the house. Part of that pace was not to hit her with a question before she was ready for it. The more serious reason was the fact her answers made it hard for him to breathe.

  The fire had a powerful hold before she entered the house. Her description of the bedroom with the door blocked was frightening. A beam could have so easily come down behind her, trapping her in the hallway.

  “Tell me again about the man you saw.”

  “He was standing by the oak tree near the turn in the drive.”

  Cole had found popcorn near that oak tree. Jack didn’t mention that fact. That signature was going to remain a very closely held fact even from someone like Cassie.

  “Did you notice anything about him beyond the impression—” Jack checked his notes to get her exact words—“tall, brown jacket with pockets, jeans, black tennis shoes, not teens or early twenties, maybe in his late thirties or early forties?”

  “How he stood, watching the fire. It wasn’t like he had gone still from surprise o
r shock. I got the impression he was reflecting on it, like he was watching and thinking.”

  “Would you recognize him if you saw him?”

  She scowled at him. “Maybe. I was hoping you weren’t going to ask.”

  “Would you prefer to try to give a description to a sketch artist?”

  “I didn’t see him well enough to put it into words. I got an impression.”

  “You could look at the photos tomorrow.” They’d have to work around the delay, but if she wasn’t up to it Cole would understand.

  “No.” She rocked the chair back and forth. “Get the arson photo books and raid a candy bar stash somewhere.”

  Jack closed the pad of paper, understanding the reluctance, his smile one of sympathy. At this time of night he wouldn’t be looking forward to studying the photo books either. “I’ll see what I can find.”

  He left and went to find the keys to unlock the cabinet where the books were kept. He had to raid the receptionist’s desk to come up with the bite-sized candy bars. She kept a candy dish on the counter; it was a popular place to stop during the course of the day.

  He carried the two thick albums and the bag of candy with him back to Cole’s office. “Snickers or Milky Way?”

  Cassie opened the first photo album and propped her elbows on the table. “Leave the bag.”

  Jack did so and tugged a lock of her hair. “Thanks.”

  “Go away.”

  With a soft laugh, he left her to it.

  Jack placed a phone call as he paced through the quiet firehouse back to the dorm, past ready to change into a clean shirt. “Cole?”

  “Hold on a minute, Jack.” He heard a muffled conversation between Cole and Bruce. “Okay. What was Cassie able to give you?”

  “I’ve got the notes faxing to the captain’s car now. You’d best read them. I flagged page four. This fire sounds different—hotter, faster, probably a different accelerant.”