The Protector

by Dee Henderson

  “We should have brought Jack to carry the packages,” Rachel said ruefully as she unloaded the department store sacks from the car trunk and prepared to carry them to her apartment. Snow swirled across the open trunk. The wind cut through her wool coat and even with earmuffs, hat, and gloves she found the weather unbearable.

  “I’ve never seen a man more delighted to be able to say he was working than Jack over breakfast when he heard our plans for the day,” Jennifer agreed, picking up the shoe boxes and the sweater box.

  Rachel wasn’t so sure Jack was having a good day, not with holiday traffic, snowy roads, and this cold. She would be surprised if he got time to thaw out between dispatches.

  Jennifer nudged the trunk closed. “This has been so much fun. I always love to shop with you.”

  “I notice it’s primarily my wardrobe getting extended again.”

  “Cole will like the peach sweater.”

  “Jenny.”

  “Don’t look at me like that. You were the one who had me up until 2 A.M. on the phone while you debated the implications of giving him that baseball.”

  “I still don’t know if it was smart. He acted like I’d given away a priceless heirloom or something.” Rachel shivered as she stepped inside the building and the warmth hit her. She held the door for Jennifer and then led the way upstairs.

  “After having his place trashed, I suspect having the one item that would be the hardest to replace taken care of first meant a lot.” Jennifer retrieved Rachel’s keys and unlocked the apartment. “The door wreath is beautiful.”

  “Thanks. Gage gave it to me.” It was a spectacular Christmas wreath with dried white rosebuds woven into the evergreen and a satin red ribbon wrapping it. “Toss the keys in the bowl,” she suggested to Jennifer. Rachel maneuvered with her packages through the apartment as best she could without knocking items off the tables.

  She had been in a rush this morning. She was able to make the bed, had pushed the dark green comforter up, but her numerous pillows were scattered, some on the bed and others on the floor. Two plastic storage tubs were pushed against the wall near the closet. She’d been exchanging her fall lightweight sweaters for the heavier sweaters for the winter.

  Rachel lowered the packages onto the bed.

  “How’s Gage really doing? Last night he was being his charming self, but it was hard to tell how deep that calm extended.”

  “Gage is…well, let’s put it this way. He’s decided to pretend Christmas Day tomorrow doesn’t exist on the calendar. It’s a decent way to get through the day, I suppose.”

  Jennifer set her packages down on the floor beside the bed. “Worried about him?”

  Ice crystals had formed on the inside of the windowpane. Rachel frowned when she saw it and knew she’d have to check the weather stripping again.

  “I’ll always be worried about him. But no, I think Gage turned the corner this last month. His grief has less anger in it.” She tugged open the closet door and pushed clothes around, sorting through her closet to find empty hangers. “Did you hear Jack bought Cassie a kitten?”

  Jennifer piled pillows against the headboard and sat down on the bed, leaning against them. “He told me he was going to. I think Jack likes her.”

  “Whatever gave you that idea?” Rachel shot her sister a grin as she opened the first box and folded back the tissue paper to retrieve the new amber blouse with pearl buttons. “The fact it’s the first time he’s ever brought someone to a Christmas family gathering?”

  “He cheated and told her to come so I could meet her. I thought that was interesting. I liked her.”

  “So do I.”

  Jennifer picked up the book on the nightstand. “Rae, I thought you were going to do light reading for the holidays. Causes of School Violence?”

  “I’m trying to get ready for the commission next year.”

  “I wish you had passed on that assignment.”

  “It’s what I do for a living, Jennifer. Someone has to figure out a way to get around the problem. And you know quite well that I was chosen because I’m an unknown and can manage the volume of material so others can be the face of the committee.”

  “It’s a lot of stress.”

  “Had I known last spring what my new year would be like I would have graciously declined, but I said yes. I gave my word. I have to do it.” Rachel knew the concern for her was real, knew Cole would probably think the same thing as Jennifer if he learned what she had volunteered for. It was a prestigious assignment. She hoped she had the reserves to deal with the stress.

  “If there is anything I can do to help, you’ll ask?”

  “Of course.”

  Jennifer looked over at Rachel. “Without being intrusive, how bad were the burns on Cassie’s arms?”

  “Severe. I don’t think Jack cares,” Rachel replied.

  “She does.”

  “You noticed that too?”

  Jennifer nodded. “It’s more than vanity. She knows the subject often makes people uncomfortable.” Jennifer tugged her wig. “She’s got great empathy for my no-hair status.”

  “Jack gets protective around her.”

  “I thought it was cute.”

  Rachel started folding up the empty sacks. She’d cut tags off the new purchases later. “I thought I’d fix salad and soup for lunch.”

  “Sounds wonderful. Want help?”

  “Without wanting to say no, at the moment the kitchen only has room for one. I’ll call when it’s ready.”

  “Fair enough.” Jennifer tossed the pillow to the floor and stretched out. “How long of a nap did you promise Tom I would take?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  Jennifer looked at the clock on the bedside table. “Then wake me in twenty-one because I am not sleeping away my Christmas vacation.”

  “Deal. You still want to meet Kate and Lisa for Christmas Eve services?” Rachel was leery about going to church, but she knew it was a big deal for Jennifer and would go along for that reason.

  “Absolutely. And Rae?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m going to beat this cancer. Believe it.”

  Rachel was stunned by the unexpected comment, and by the fact Jennifer had obviously clicked into the subject that had been just off center stage all day as they shopped. Rachel was chagrined at the realization that her agreement with Tom to keep an unintrusive eye on Jennifer had not been so subtle after all. “If optimism can affect it, you will.”

  “Prayer will,” Jennifer said easily. “Wake me in twenty-one minutes.”

  “I’ll do that,” Rachel said quietly. She closed the bedroom door and leaned her head against it.

  She wished she felt comfortable calling Cole. Jennifer had an assurance inside that she would be okay. Cole was pointing toward that same assurance, encouraging Rachel to reach out and grasp it too. She needed to have someone to talk with who would listen to what she was thinking and just be a sounding board.

  She wanted so desperately to believe. She wiped at the tears. She had to talk to someone. Jack. He was a good sounding board, and he’d keep the conversation private. And better yet, he wouldn’t try to convince her God’s love existed. If anything he’d try to convince her she was wrong.

  The reality she feared was Jennifer heading back into the hospital, and Rachel was going to need to find the strength to go along and help her. Not to do so…it wasn’t an option.

  A decision had to be made. She couldn’t carry on like this much longer; the weight of what was going on was too heavy. How many people had she seen break under the weight of impending grief? Too many. She couldn’t do that to her family. She had to be strong enough to get through this.

  But her sister was dying…and Rachel was dying along with her.

  Jack stretched out in Cole’s spare office chair, trying to relax while he could because this shift had the markings of a hard one. They’d been out on four calls already. He tried to find a clear spot to set his soda, couldn’t, and ended up sett
ing it on the floor under his chair. The piles of file folders, books, and printouts had grown into mountains.

  The map on the wall tracking the location of the arson fires was new. Jack studied it. There was no clear clockwise or counter-clockwise to the pattern. “He’s going to do something over Christmas.”

  Cole used both hands to wrestle a file cabinet drawer back on track. “Very likely.”

  “Who’s setting these fires?”

  “Not you.” Cole shoved the file cabinet drawer one last time, gave up, and propped his foot on it. “I don’t know, Jack. It’s the same answer as the last five times you landed in that chair to ask me.”

  “It wasn’t Christmas weekend last time. I don’t want my men hurt.”

  “Join the crowd.”

  “You’ve got to at least have some suspicions.”

  “Several.”

  “Names? Someone I know?”

  “None you need to know about, and not when you’re going on shift. I don’t need you distracted, Jack.”

  “I’m trying to help here, Cole, and you’re not making it easy.”

  “Live with it.”

  “I don’t want Cassie rolling out with us today.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “I don’t need her getting hurt on Christmas Eve,” Jack replied, ready to argue the point.

  Cole just held up his hand. “She’ll ride with me today. I don’t particularly want her in the middle of this either. Did you read that nursing home report I gave you?”

  “Yes. I wish you would tell me what you’re looking for.”

  “The words murderer, coward, liar. He’s angry. And he’s leaving popcorn with a flourish. The nursing home was the fire where popcorn became a calling card. There were other signatures he could have copied: the gas can and red bandanna for a fuse, padlocks on the doors. Why not the fireworks signature that made such a splash in the press last year? He chose popcorn for a reason.”

  “We’ve already looked at the people who died in the nursing home fire, their relatives.”

  “It’s time to rethink it. Something is there.”

  “Ash disappeared,” Jack said quietly.

  Cole just nodded. “Has Cassie said anything about that fire?”

  “No.”

  “She’s a key to this, Jack. Just like you are.”

  Jack scowled. “I don’t know why he’s focused on me, this shift. I’ve racked my brains for names. Does Ben have any ideas?” Tones sounded. Jack pushed himself to his feet.

  “Be careful.”

  “Always, boss.”

  There was new caulk around the sink in the fire station women’s locker room. Cassie added her toothbrush to the blue spin rack, opened the cabinet, and found on the shelf below the towels an empty basket with her name on it nestled between others overflowing with shampoo bottles, makeup, cotton balls, and hair dryers. She tossed her toothpaste and hairbrush into her basket.

  She had been on enough shifts she had finally decided to bring enough items to the station to effectively move in. She hadn’t wanted to appear presumptuous about her position for she knew it was day to day based on how long it took for them to find the arsonist.

  Living at a fire station wasn’t all that different from her days living in a college dorm with the exception of a few unique realities—behind her, hung on a shower curtain rod, one of Margaret’s uniform shirts dripped dry. It had been soaked to remove blood stains acquired while working at the car accident earlier that morning.

  Cassie walked back into the women’s dorm room. Bunks were made with precision; rugs covered the concrete floor. The room had been turned into more than just a place to sleep. There wasn’t much privacy to be found at a fire station, but an effort had been made here to make it a place to relax. Two comfortable chairs had been moved in along with a small television. Bookshelves had been built along one wall. A desk had been squeezed in.

  Cassie picked up the folded yellow T-shirt that had been waiting for her on her bunk. Jack had snuck in a gift. The shirt was one from last year’s chili contest, boldly proclaiming Company 81’s standing as the hottest company. The Post-it note simply said Jack. He’d begun the effort to shift her loyalty to Company 81.

  It was trivial, but she thought it was his way to add something light to counter what had felt like an awkward parting. She had seen him only briefly today, and only long enough to casually pass a few general remarks. He was out on another dispatch.

  It was another day where she was stuck at the station while Gold Shift rolled out numerous times to car accidents caused by the snowy day. She hated being stuck in the station.

  Lord, is there anything different I could do to help find this man?

  She could feel the tension that grew with every shift and the awareness that a fire would come. With the two holidays what was normally a festive time of the year was markedly different this year, almost grim. She was worried about Jack. But there were many other families equally being affected by the threat this arsonist presented.

  They needed a different game plan. They had to be able to find him.

  Cassie went to find Cole to see what she could do for the rest of the shift. If it was paperwork… She sighed at the idea. She was coming to be proficient at it, and she knew Cole was relying on her and giving her more and more to do. It was a love-hate relationship. When Jack was here at the station, being here to work on paperwork was a nice reason to be in his world. When Jack was out on a dispatch, she found herself watching the clock and paying close attention to anything over the dispatch radio.

  Maybe if Cole didn’t have anything really urgent for her to do, she could retreat to the kitchen and do some baking. The guys always relished having big, fresh cookies available. They had all the ingredients for Italian beef sandwiches that could be left in the Crock-Pot and kept hot for when the guys returned. It would be great to also get a soup started. The guys coming in and out of the station through the night would be cold and very likely hungry. A bite to eat and some desperately needed shut-eye would be high on their list of priorities.

  “Got an extra one of those?”

  Cassie looked up from the sandwiches she was cutting to see Ben had paused to lean around the kitchen door. “Sure, Lieutenant. Roast beef, mustard, and hot peppers? Heated?”

  “Perfect. Cole around?”

  “His office I think.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Cassie fixed Ben a thick sandwich and turned to take out of the oven the pan of brownies she had left there to keep warm. She wasn’t surprised to see Ben, even though it was only eight hours since he’d gone off duty. He’d been home, gotten some sleep, and come back to where he was needed most.

  Ben rejoined her as she was peeling apples for a pie.

  “Cole’s a miracle worker. He may have found Chad a job.”

  Cassie slid Ben the sandwich. “Not the arson investigator slot he hoped for, but a community safety officer is a pretty good option.” She’d helped Cole find a way to get it created. “Think Chad will accept?”

  “He should. It’s a good job, but will he?” Ben looked uncertain, and in the tightness around his mouth a touch of anger. “If he’s ready to accept he won’t be able to fight fires any more.”

  Cassie studied the older man, knowing how hard he’d been trying to help his nephew, understanding also how hard it would be for Chad to adjust to the disability. “He’s depressed?”

  The man’s discomfort increased. “It’s the holidays.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  Ben shook his head as he wadded up his napkin. “You adjusted; he’s got to do the same. It’s time he faced reality and got back to work. Would you do me a favor and make two pies? Black Shift loves your baking.”

  “Glad to.”

  The phone rang. Ben motioned for her to stay put and got up to answer it. Cassie wondered if she should point out Chad had been making those steps back—the application to Cole, stopping by to s
ee Cole. Chad was trying, but she knew the job offer that would have him talking about fires instead of fighting them would hurt. It would really hurt.

  “Jack!”

  He struggled to turn in the ditch where the blue sedan had flipped. He squinted against the blowing snow, holding up his hand to block the wind as best he could. Daylight was dwindling, vehicle headlights were becoming brighter in the fading light. Traffic was rushing by and throwing up dirty snow and ice creating a background of constant noise.

  “No joy on the tow,” Bruce shouted to be heard over the traffic. “Mark the car to be pulled out later.”

  Jack waved his hand acknowledging that he heard the message. He struggled to get the top pocket of his winter gear open. He took out a bright red fluorescent seal and unfolded it.

  Christmas Eve was proving to be the day that would not end. Jack marked the wreck by putting the red seal on the shattered back window so patrolling cops would know the vehicle had been checked out. This car was trashed, but the driver had walked away once they had been able to get the door pulled open. He was on his way to the area hospital to be checked out as a precaution.

  Jack struggled to work his way back up the slick incline. Snow had begun to fall midafternoon and already his boot tops were disappearing as he walked. It wasn’t expected to let up for hours. Snow-packed treads, slick roads where salt melted the snow into mush, drivers hurrying to get home—as the temperature fell, the wind picked up, and as the snow got heavier the number of accidents grew exponentially. The spinouts and fender benders were coming faster than dispatch could take the calls.

  He was cold and miserable, and the odds were good he was going to be cold and miserable for the next several hours. Jack slipped and jarred his wrist as he stopped the fall. He brushed snow off and tried to get it out of his glove.

  Cole had arrived, his SUV parked behind Engine 81, red and blue lights flashing to warn traffic. His friend had come back to work shortly after 4 P.M. to help out Frank with command and control. Prioritizing scenes was crucial when bad weather hit.

  He wished traffic would slow down to a moderate speed so they didn’t have someone else end up in a ditch before they got done packing up from this one.